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Amy Lowell:Pickthorn Manor

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XXIII
Her little taper made the room seem vast, Caverned
and empty. And her beating heart
Rapped through the silence all about her cast Like some loud,
dreadful death-watch taking part
In this sad vigil. Slowly she undrest, Put out the
light and crept into her bed.
The linen sheets were fragrant, but so cold. And
brimming tears she shed,
Sobbing and quivering in her barren nest,
Her weeping lips into the pillow prest,
Her eyes sealed fast within its smothering fold.

XXIV
The morning brought her a more stoic mind, And
sunshine struck across the polished floor.
She wondered whether this day she should find Gervase a-fishing,
and so listen more,
Much more again, to all he had to tell. And he was there, but
waiting to begin
Until she came. They fished awhile,
then went To the old seat within
The cherry's shade. He pleased her very well
By his discourse. But ever he must dwell
Upon Sir Everard. Each incident

XXV
Must be related and each term explained. How
troops were set in battle, how a siege
Was ordered and conducted. She complained Because
he bungled at the fall of Liege.
The curious names of parts of forts she knew, And aired with
conscious pride her ravelins,
And counterscarps, and lunes. The
day drew on, And his dead fish's fins
In the hot sunshine turned a mauve-green hue.
At last Gervase, guessing the hour, withdrew.
But she sat long in still oblivion.

XXVI
Then he would bring her books, and read to her The
poems of Dr. Donne, and the blue river
Would murmur through the reading, and a stir Of birds and bees
make the white petals shiver,
And one or two would flutter prone and lie Spotting the smooth-clipped
grass. The days went by
Threaded with talk and verses. Green
leaves pushed Through blossoms stubbornly.
Gervase, unconscious of dishonesty,
Fell into strong and watchful loving, free
He thought, since always would his lips be hushed.

XXVII
But lips do not stay silent at command, And
Gervase strove in vain to order his.
Luckily Eunice did not understand That he but read himself
aloud, for this
Their friendship would have snapped. She treated him And
spoilt him like a brother. It was now
"Gervase" and "Eunice" with them, and he dined Whenever
she'd allow,
In the oak parlour, underneath the dim
Old pictured Framptons, opposite her slim
Figure, so bright against the chair behind.

XXVIII
Eunice was happier than she had been For many
days, and yet the hours were long.
All Gervase told to her but made her lean More heavily upon
the past. Among
Her hopes she lived, even when she was giving Her morning orders,
even when she twined
Nosegays to deck her parlours. With
the thought Of Everard, her mind
Solaced its solitude, and in her striving
To do as he would wish was all her living.
She welcomed Gervase for the news he brought.

XXIX
Black-hearts and white-hearts, bubbled with the
sun, Hid in their leaves and knocked against each other.
Eunice was standing, panting with her run Up to the tool-house
just to get another
Basket. All those which she had brought were filled, And
still Gervase pelted her from above.
The buckles of his shoes flashed higher and higher Until
his shoulders strove
Quite through the top. "Eunice, your spirit's filled
This tree. White-hearts!" He shook, and cherries
spilled
And spat out from the leaves like falling fire.

XXX
The wide, sun-winged June morning spread itself Over
the quiet garden. And they packed
Full twenty baskets with the fruit. "My shelf Of
cordials will be stored with what it lacked.
In future, none of us will drink strong ale, But cherry-brandy." "Vastly
good, I vow,"
And Gervase gave the tree another shake. The
cherries seemed to flow
Out of the sky in cloudfuls, like blown hail.
Swift Lady Eunice ran, her farthingale,
Unnoticed, tangling in a fallen rake.

XXXI
She gave a little cry and fell quite prone In
the long grass, and lay there very still.
Gervase leapt from the tree at her soft moan, And kneeling
over her, with clumsy skill
Unloosed her bodice, fanned her with his hat, And his unguarded
lips pronounced his heart.
"Eunice, my Dearest Girl, where are you hurt?" His
trembling fingers dart
Over her limbs seeking some wound. She strove
To answer, opened wide her eyes, above
Her knelt Sir Everard, with face alert.

XXXII
Her eyelids fell again at that sweet sight, "My
Love!" she murmured, "Dearest! Oh, my Dear!"
He took her in his arms and bore her right And tenderly to
the old seat, and "Here
I have you mine at last," she said, and swooned Under his kisses. When
she came once more
To sight of him, she smiled in comfort knowing Herself
laid as before
Close covered on his breast. And all her glowing
Youth answered him, and ever nearer growing
She twined him in her arms and soft festooned



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