The Works of George Eliot (Volume 18) (Paperback)

Book may have numerous typos, missing text, images, or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1900. Excerpt: ... Why, you would have consented too, at last. I said such things I was resolved to go, And see the streets, the shops, the men at work, The women, little children--everything, Just as it is when nobody looks on. And I have done it We were out four hours. I feel so wise. Don Silva. Had you but seen the town, You innocent naughtiness, not shown yourself-- Shown yourself dancing--you bewilder me -- Frustrate my judgment with strange negatives That seem like poverty, and yet are wealth In precious womanliness, beyond the dower Of other women: wealth in virgin gold, Outweighing all their petty currency. You daring modesty I You shrink no more From gazing men than from the gazing flowers That, dreaming sunshine, open as you pass. Fed Alma. No, I should like the world to look at me With eyes of love that make a second day. I think your eyes would keep the life in me Though I had nought to feed on else. Their blue Is better than the heavens--holds more love For me, Fedalma--is a little heaven For this one little world that looks up now. Don Silva. 0 precious little world you make the heaven As the earth makes the sky. But, dear, all eyes, Though looking even on you, have not a glance That cherishes . . . Fedalma. Ah no, I meant to tell you-- Tell how my dancing ended with a pang. There came a man, one among many more, But he came first, with iron on his limbs. And when the bell tolled, and the people prayed, And I stood pausing--then he looked at me. 0 Silva, such a man I I thought he rose From the dark place of long-imprisoned souls, To say that Christ had never come to them. It was a look to shame a seraph's joy, And make him sad in heaven. It found me there- Seemed to have travelled far to find me there And grasp me--claim this festal life of mine As heritage of sorrow, chill my blood W...