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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