To left and right, and made appear, The home of woe without a tear. III. Till all the crimson changed, and past Low on her knees herself she cast, To help me of And on the liquid mirror glowed The clear perfection of her face. "Is this the form," she made her moan, 6 IV. Nor bird would sing, nor lamb would bleat, cloud would cross the vault, Nor any But day increased from heat to heat, On stony drought and steaming salt; Till now at noon she slept again, And seemed knee-deep in mountain grass, She breathed in sleep a lower moan, V. Dreaming, she knew it was a dream: She felt he was and was not there. She woke the babble of the stream Fell, and without the steady glare Shrank the sick olive sere and small. The river-bed was dusty white; And all the furnace of the light Struck up against the blinding wall. She whispered, with a stifled moan VI. And, rising, from her bosom drew To look at her with slight, and say, "But now thy beauty flows away, So be alone for evermore." "O cruel heart," she changed her tone, "And cruel love, whose end is scorn, Is this the end to be left alone, To live forgotten, and die forlorn!" VII. But sometimes in the falling day An image seemed to pass the door, To look into her eyes and say, "But thou shalt be alone no more." And flaming downward over all And slowly rounded to the east "The day to night," she made her moan, To live forgotten, and love forlorn." VIII. At eve a dry cicala sung, There came a sound as of the sea; Large Hesper glittered on her tears, And weeping then she made her moan, "The night comes on that knows not morn, When I shall cease to be all alone, To live forgotten, and love forlorn." ELEANORE. THY dark eyes opened not, Nor first revealed themselves to English air, Which, from the outward to the inward brought, Far off from human neighborhood, Thou wert born, on a summer morn, A mile beneath the cedar-wood. Thy bounteous forehead was not fanned With breezes from our oaken glades, But thou wert nursed in some delicious land Of lavish lights, and floating shades: And flattering thy childish thought The oriental fairy brought, At the moment of thy birth, |