Isabel Trevithoe; A Poem, by C.A.R.

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: If he should ask for me again, 'twas but A fevered fancy that I came, a dream Of fevered brain, so need he never know 'Twas true. To Lady Norah say that once, But that was passed, we had been friends, then No mischief done. She ceased, and down her face Coursed dropping tears. But as she spoke it chanced The Lady Norah, in th' adjoining room, That moment stood, and through the open door She could but hear these words of Isabel's, And, hearing, thought These words are nobly said. She deems her work is done, and now would go Without the joy of seeing Gilbert smile His thanks, as she has seen him smile. But now The Lady Norah would not be outdone In sacrifice, for stepping forth to where, Her face bedewed with tears, leant Isabel, Like fading lily, plucked and thrown aside, She said: Forgive my entrance here unbid, But passed your words to me through open door. I heard you speak of leaving Ancillou. That cannot be, for he might wake and ask For you again, and were you gone, far worse Than e'en before, the fever might return; You still must wait. 'Twas hard to speak like this, To beg her stay, and Norah's voice, thus tried, Grow hard, her manner cold, imperious, Like olden self. And Isabel, half-stunned, Obeyed, but scarce could think or feel. Houjrs fled, Still Gilbert slept, then woke, and slept again, Till on the following day, he woke refreshed, The restless fever gone, and clear his mind, He asked, with weak and trembling voice, how had All passed, how long ago ? And then he said He thought that Isabel Trevithoe came And spoke with him. Could that but be a dream ? And when they said no dream, but earnest truth, He begged to see her once again, but once. They called her in; he eager clasped her hands, But neither spoke at fi...