and Frampton twined. Her heart felt lighter
When this was done. It seemed her
constant care Might some day cease to fright her.
Illness could be no crime, and dreadful harms
Did come from too much sunshine. Her alarms
Would lessen when she saw him standing there,
XLII
Simple and kind, a brother just returned From
journeying, and he would treat her so.
She knew his honest heart, and if there burned A spark in it
he would not let it show.
But when he really came, and stood beside Her underneath the
fruitless cherry boughs,
He seemed a tired man, gaunt, leaden-eyed. He
made her no more vows,
Nor did he mention one thing he had tried
To put into his letter. War supplied
Him topics. And his mind seemed occupied.
XLIII
Daily they met. And gravely walked and
talked. He read her no more verses, and he stayed
Only until their conversation, balked Of every natural channel,
fled dismayed.
Again the next day she would meet him, trying To give her tone
some healthy sprightliness,
But his uneager dignity soon chilled Her
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