human
I thought to freeze, the girl broke out with tears;
gpt
Kind sir, kind sir, and she held out the child, As praying him to take it; and he did; And gave to her the shawl, and swathed his charge In the foldings of his plaid; and when it thrust Its small round face against his breast, and felt With small red hands for warmth,--unbearable Pains of great pity rent his straitened heart, For the poor upland dwellers had been out Since morning dawn, at early milking-time, Wandering and stumbling in the drift. And now, Lamed with a fall, half crippled by the cold, Hardly prevailed his arm to drag her on, That ill-clad child, who yet the younger child Had motherly cared to shield. So toiling through The great white storm coming, and coming yet. And coming till the world confounded sat With all her fair familiar features gone, The mountains muffled in an eddying swirl, He led or bore them, and the little one Peered from her shelter, pleased; but oft would mourn The elder,
human
They will beat me: O my can, I left my can of milk upon the moor. And he compared her trouble with his own, And had no heart to speak. And yet 'twas keen; It filled her to the putting down of pain And hunger,--what could his do more? He brought The children to their home, and suddenly Regained himself, and wondering at himself, That he had borne, and yet been dumb so long, The weary wailing of the girl: he paid Money to buy her pardon; heard them say,
gpt
Peace, we have feared for you; forget the milk, It is no matter!
human
It is no matter! and he could not choose But mutter, though the weariness o'ercame His spirit,
gpt
Peace, it is no matter; peace, It is no matter! For he felt that all Was as it had been, and his father's heart Was easy, knowing not how that same day Hope with her tender colors and delight (He should not care to have him know) were dead; Yea, to all these, his nearest and most dear, It was no matter. And he heard them talk Of timber felled, of certain fruitful fields, And profitable markets. All for him Their plans, and yet the echoes swarmed and swam About his head, whenever there was pause;
human
It is no matter! And his greater self Arose in him and fought.
gpt
It matters much, It matters all to these, that not to-day Nor ever they should know it. I will hide The wound; ay, hide it with a sleepless care. What! shall I make these three to drink of rue, Because my cup is bitter? And he thrust Himself in thought away, and made his ears Hearken, and caused his voice, that yet did seem Another, to make answer, when they spoke, As there had been no snowstorm, and no porch, And no despair. So this went on awhile Until the snow had melted from the wold, And he, one noonday, wandering up a lane, Met on a turn the woman whom he loved. Then, even to trembling he was moved: his speech Faltered; but when the common kindly words Of greeting were all said, and she passed on, He could not bear her sweetness and his pain,
human
Muriel! he cried; and when she heard her name, She turned.
gpt
You know I love you, he broke out: She answered
human
Yes, and sighed.
gpt
O pardon me. Pardon me, quoth the lover;
human
gpt
I hope so, she replied; And over all her face the rose-bloom came, As thinking on that other, unaware Her eyes waxed tender. When he looked on her, Standing to answer him, with lovely shame, Submiss, and yet not his, a passionate, A quickened sense of his great impotence To drive away the doom got hold on him; He set his teeth to force the unbearable Misery back, his wide-awakened eyes Flashed as with flame. And she, all overawed And mastered by his manhood, waited yet, And trembled at the deep she could not sound; A passionate nature in a storm; a heart Wild with a mortal pain, and in the grasp Of an immortal love.
human
Farewell, he said, Recovering words, and when she gave her hand,
gpt
My thanks for your good candor; for I feel That it has cost you something. Then, the blush Yet on her face, she said:
human
It was your due: But keep this matter from your friends and kin, We would not have it known. Then cold and proud, Because there leaped from under his straight lids, And instantly was veiled, a keen surprise,--
gpt
He wills it, and I therefore think it well. Thereon they parted; but from that time forth, Whether they met on festal eve, in field, Or at the church, she ever bore herself Proudly, for she had felt a certain pain, The disapproval hastily betrayed And quickly hidden hurt her.
human
She thought,