ISABEL. 1. EYES not down-dropt nor over bright, but fed 2. The intuitive decision of a bright And thorough-edged intellect to part Error from crime; a prudence to withhold The laws of marriage character'd in gold Upon the blanched tablets of her heart; A love still burning upward, giving light low To read those laws; an accent very Of subtle-paced counsel in distress, Winning its way with extreme gentleness 3. The mellow'd reflex of a winter moon; With swifter movement and in purer light The vexed eddies of its wayward brother : Of rich fruit-bunches leaning on each other- MARIANA. "Mariana in the moated grange."-Measure for Measure. WITH blackest moss the flower-plots Weeded and worn the ancient thatch Upon the lonely moated grange. She only said, "My life is dreary, He cometh not," she said; Her tears fell with the dews at even; Her tears fell ere the dews were dried; She could not look on the sweet heaven, Either at morn or eventide. After the flitting of the bats, When thickest dark did trance the sky, She said, "I am aweary, aweary, Upon the middle of the night, Waking she heard the night-fowl crow: The cock sung out an hour ere light : From the dark fen the oxen's low Came to her without hope of change, In sleep she seem'd to walk forlorn, Till cold winds woke the gray-eyed morn About the lonely moated grange. She only said, "The day is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, “I am aweary, aweary, About a stone-cast from the wall A sluice with blacken'd waters slept, And o'er it many, round and small, The cluster'd marish-mosses crept. Hard by a poplar shook alway, All silver-green with gnarled bark : She only said, "My life is dreary, And ever when the moon was low, She saw the gusty shadow sway. away, And wild winds bound within their cell, The shadow of the poplar fell Upon her bed, across her brow. She only said, "The night is dreary, He cometh not," she said; She said, "I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!" All day within the dreamy house, The doors upon their hinges creak'd; The blue fly sung in the pane; the mouse Behind the mouldering wainscot shriek'd, |