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AURORA LEIGH.
133
He sent her to a famous sempstress-house
Far off in London, there to work and hope.
With that they parted. She kept sight of Heaven,
But not of Romney.He had good to do
To others: through the days and through the nights,
She sewed and sewed and sewed.She drooped sometimes,
And wondered, while, along the tawny light,
She struck the new thread into her needle’s eye,
How people without mothers on the hills,
Could choose the town to live in!—then she drew
The stitch, and mused how Romney’s face would look,
And if ’twere likely he’d remember hers,
When they two had their meeting after death.
