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Christina Georgina Rossetti - Maude ClareChristina Georgina Rossetti - Maude Clare
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Out of the church she followed them  With a lofty step and mien: His bride was like a village maid,  Maude Clare was like a queen. `Son Thomas,` his lady mother said,  With smiles, almost with tears: `May Nell and you but live as true  As we have done for years; `Your father thirty years ago  Had just your tale to tell; But he was not so pale as you,  Nor I so pale as Nell.` My lord was pale with inward strife,  And Nell was pale with pride; My lord gazed long on pale Maude Clare  Or ever he kissed the bride. `Lo, I have brought my gift, my lord,  Have brought my gift,` she said: `To bless the hearth, to bless the board,  To bless the marriage-bed. `Here`s my half of the golden chain  You wore about your neck, That day we waded ankle-deep  For lilies in the beck: `Here`s my half of the faded leaves  We plucked from budding bough, With feet amongst the lily leaves,—  The lilies are budding now.` He strove to match her scorn with scorn,  He faltered in his place: `Lady,` he said,—`Maude Clare,` he said,—  `Maude Clare:`—and hid his face. She turn`d to Nell: `My Lady Nell,  I have a gift for you; Though, were it fruit, the bloom were gone,  Or, were it flowers, the dew. `Take my share of a fickle heart,  Mine of a paltry love: Take it or leave it as you will,  I wash my hands thereof.` `And what you leave,` said Nell, `I`ll take,  And what you spurn, I`ll wear; For he`s my lord for better and worse,  And him I love, Maude Clare. `Yea, though you`re taller by the head,  More wise, and much more fair; I`ll love him till he loves me best,  Me best of all, Maude Clare.`
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