Our mother spoke--her counsels and commands--
For you were mine--my sister! So I tore
Your clinging hand from hers with rude constraint,
And took you to my chamber, where I played
With you, in selfish sense of property,
The whole bright afternoon.

And here again,
Within this same old chamber we are met.
We told our secrets to each other then;
Thus let us tell them now; and you shall be
To my grief-burdened soul what you have said,
So many times that I have been to yours.

_Mary_.

Alas! I never meant to tell my tale
To other ear than God's; but you have claims
Upon my confidence,--claims just rehearsed,
And other claims which you have never known.

_Grace_.

And other claims which I have never known!
You speak in riddles, love. I only know
You grew to womanhood, were beautiful,
Were loved and wooed, were married and were blest;--

That after passage of mysterious years
We heard sad stories of your misery,