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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341747" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Lord of Burleigh</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">IN her ear he whispers gaily, <br> 'If my heart by signs can tell, <br>Maiden, I have watch'd thee daily, <br> And I think thou lov'st me well.' <br>She replies, in accents fainter, <br> 'There is none I love like thee.' <br>He is but a landscape-painter, <br> And a village maiden she. <br>He to lips, that fondly falter, <br> Presses his without reproof: <br>Leads her to the village altar, <br> And they leave her father's roo£ <br>'I can make no marriage present: <br> Little can I give my wife. <br>Love will make our cottage pleasant, <br> And I love thee more than life.' <br>They by parks and lodges going <br> See the lordly castles stand: <br>Summer woods, about them blowing, <br> Made a murmur in the land. <br>From deep thought himself he rouses, <br> Says to her that loves him well, <br>'Let us see these handsome houses <br> Where the wealthy nobles dwell.' <br>So she goes by him attended, <br> Hears him lovingly converse, <br>Sees whatever fair and splendid <br> Lay betwixt his home and hers; <br>Parks with oak and chestnut shady, <br> Parks and order'd gardens great, <br>Ancient homes of lord and lady, <br> Built for pleasure and for state. <br>All he shows her makes him dearer: <br> Evermore she seems to gaze <br>On that cottage growing nearer, <br> Where they twain will spend their days. <br>O but she will love him truly ! <br> He shall have a cheerful home; <br>She will order all things duly, <br> When beneath his roof they come. <br>Thus her heart rejoices greatly, <br> Till a gateway she discerns <br>With armorial bearings stately, <br> And beneath the gate she turns; <br>Sees a mansion more majestic <br> Than all those she saw before: <br>Many a gallant gay domestic <br> Bows before him at the door. <br>And they speak in gentle murmur, <br> When they answer to his call, <br>While he treads with footstep firmer, <br> Leading on from hall to hall. <br>And, while now she wonders blindly, <br> Nor the meaning can divine, <br>Proudly turns he round and kindly, <br> 'All of this is mine and thine.' <br>Here he lives in state and bounty, <br> Lord of Burleigh, fair and free, <br>Not a lord in all the county <br> Is so great a lord as he. <br>All at once the colour flushes <br> Her sweet face from brow to chin: <br>As it were with shame she blushes, <br> And her spirit changed within. <br>Then her countenance all over <br> Pale again as death did prove: <br>But he clasp'd her like a lover, <br> And he cheer'd her soul with love. <br>So she strove against her weakness, <br> Tho' at times her spirit sank: <br>Shaped her heart with woman's meekness <br> To all duties of her rank: <br>And a gentle consort made he, <br> And her gentle mind was such <br>That she grew a noble lady, <br> And the people loved her much. <br>But a trouble weigh'd upon her, <br> And perplex'd her, night and morn, <br>With the burthen of an honour <br> Unto which she was not born. <br>Faint she grew, and ever fainter, <br> And she murmur'd, 'Oh, that he <br>Were once more that landscape-painter, <br> Which did win my heart from me!' <br>So she droop'd and droop'd before him, <br> Fading slowly from his side: <br>Three fair children first she bore him, <br> Then before her time she died. <br>Weeping, weeping late and early, <br> Walking up and pacing down, <br>Deeply mourn'd the Lord of Burleigh, <br> Burleigh-house by Stamford-town. <br>And he came to look upon her, <br> And he look'd at her and said, <br>'Bring the dress and put it on her, <br> That she wore when she was wed.' <br>Then her people, softly treading, <br> Bore to earth her body, drest <br>In the dress that she was wed in, <br> That her spirit might have rest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Alfred+Lord+Tennyson">Alfred Lord Tennyson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=341747" data-title="The Lord of Burleigh de Alfred Lord Tennyson" data-description="IN her ear he whispers gaily, 
 'If my heart by signs can tell, 
Maiden, I have watch'd thee daily, 
 And I think thou lov'st me well.' 
She replies, in accents fainter, 
 'There is none I love like thee.' 
He is but a landscape-painter, 
 And a v..."></div>
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