ELAINE
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H, come again to Astolat!I will not ask you to be kind.And you may go when you will go,And I will stay behind. I will not say how dear you are,Or ask you if you hold me dear,Or trouble you with things for youThe way I did last year. So still the orchard, Lancelot,So very still the lake shall be,You could not guess--though you should guess--What is become of me. So wide shall be the garden-walk,The garden-seat so very wide,You needs must think--if you should think--The lily maid had died. Save that, a little way away,I'd watch you for a little while,To see you speak, the way you speak,And smile,--if you should smile.
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