Sow'd all their mystic gulfs with fleeting stars; But this whole hour your eyes have been intent On that veil'd picture-veil'd, for what it holds May not be dwelt on by the common day. This prelude has prepared thee. Raise thy soul; Make thine heart ready with thine eyes: the time Is come to raise the veil. Behold her there, As I beheld her ere she knew my heart, DORA. WITH farmer Allan at the farm abode William and Dora. William was his son, And she his niece. He often look'd at them, And often thought, 'I'll make them man and wife.' Now Dora felt her uncle's will in all, And yearn'd toward William; but the youth, because He had been always with her in the house, Thought not of Dora. Then there came a day When Allan call'd'his son, and said, 'My son : I married late, but I would wish to see In foreign lands; but for his sake I bred For many years.' But William answer'd short; 'I cannot marry Dora; by my life, I will not marry Dora.' Then the old man And broke away. The more he look'd at her Then, when the bells were ringing, Allan call'd His niece and said: 'My girl, I love you well; But if you speak with him that was my son, Or change a word with her he calls his wife, My home is none of yours. My will is law.' And Dora promised, being meek. She thought, 'It cannot be my uncle's mind will change!' And days went on, and there was born a boy To William; then distress came on him; And day by day he pass'd his father's gate, Heart-broken, and his father help'd him not. But Dora stored what little she could save, And sent it them by stealth, nor did they know Who sent it; till at last a fever seized On William, and in harvest time he died. Then Dora went to Mary. Mary sat And look'd with tears upon her boy, and thought Hard things of Dora. Dora came and said: 'I have obey'd my uncle until now, And I have sinn'd, for it was all thro' me This evil came on William at the first. But, Mary, for the sake of him that's gone, And for this orphan, I am come to you: You know there has not been for these five years So full a harvest let me take the boy, And I will set him in my uncle's eye Among the wheat; that when his heart is glad And Dora took the child, and went her way Across the wheat, and sat upon a mound That was unsown, where many poppies grew. And spied her not; for none of all his men But when the morrow came, she rose and took The child once more, and sat upon the mound; And made a little wreath of all the flowers That grew about, and tied it round his hat To make him pleasing in her uncle's eye. Then when the farmer pass'd into the field He spied her, and he left his men at work, And came and said: 'Where were you yesterday? Whose child is that? What are you doing here?' So Dora cast her eyes upon the ground, And answer'd softly, 'This is William's child!' 'And did I not,' said Allan, ' did I not Forbid you, Dora?' Dora said again : 'Do with me as you will, but take the child, And bless him for the sake of him that's gone!' And Allan said, 'I see it is a trick Got up betwixt you and the woman there. I must be taught my duty, and by you! You knew my word was law, and yet you dared |