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Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider), 1856-1925

"Beatrice"

The seed sown in that hour had
blossomed and borne fruit indeed. Who would have dreamed it possible
that he should thus have drawn Beatrice to him? Well, he ought to have
known. If it was possible that the words which floated through her
mind could arise in his as they had done upon that night, what was
not possible? And were there not other words, written by the same
master-hand, which told of such things as these:
"'Now--now,' the door is heard;
Hark, the stairs! and near--
Nearer--and here--
'Now'! and at call the third,
She enters without a word.
Like the doors of a casket shrine,
See on either side,
Her two arms divide
Till the heart betwixt makes sign,
'Take me, for I am thine.'
First, I will pray. Do Thou
That ownest the soul,
Yet wilt grant control
To another, nor disallow
For a time, restrain me now!"
Did they not run thus? Oh, he should have known! This he could plead,
and this only--that control had been granted to him.
But how would Beatrice fare? Would she come to herself safely? He
thought so, it was only a fainting fit.


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