In truth it was a change!—she had obey'd XXIV. Her grief and gall meanwhile were quite extreme, XXV. And here just here-as she began to heed The real world, her clock chimed out its score; A clock it was of the Venetian breed, That cried the hour from one to twenty-four; The works moreover standing in some need Of workmanship, it struck some dozens more; A warning voice that clench'd Bianca's fears, Such strokes referring doubtless to her years. XXVI. At fifteen chimes she was but half a nun, To paint that ruin where her charms would run; And thought no higher, as the late dream cross'd Of single blessedness, than single Gloster. XXVII. And so Bianca changed;—the next sweet even, Of course to break the ice upon the water. XXVIII. But what a puzzle is one's serious mind And Julio felt the declaration stick XXIX. But love is still the quickest of all readers; That English telegraphs and foreign pleaders, XXX. "Be thou my park, and I will be thy dear, (So he began at last to speak or quote ;) Be thou my bark, and I thy gondolier, (For passion takes this figurative note;) Be thou my light, and I thy chandelier; Be thou my dove, and I will be thy cote: XXXI. This, with more tender logic of the kind, Meanwhile her eyes glanced on the silver sphere That even now began to steal behind A dewy vapour, which was lingering near, Wherein the dull moon crept all dim and pale, Just like a virgin putting on the veil :— XXXII. Bidding adieu to all her sparks-the stars, That erst had woo'd and worshipp'd in her train, Saturn and Hesperus, and gallant Mars- XXXIII. He took the hint full speedily, and, back'd By love, and night, and the occasion's meetness, Bestow'd a something on her cheek that smack'd (Tho' quite in silence) of ambrosial 'sweetness; That made her think all other kisses lack'd Till then, but what she knew not, of completeness: Being used but sisterly salutes to feel, XXXIV. He took her hand, and soon she felt him wring The pretty fingers all instead of one; Anon his stealthy arm began to cling About her waist that had been clasp'd by none; Their dear confessions I forbear to sing, Since cold description would but be outrun ; For bliss and Irish watches have the pow'r, In twenty minutes, to lose half an hour! THE DEMON-SHIP. 'TWAS off the Wash-the sun went down-the sea look'd black and grim, For stormy clouds with murky fleece, were mustering at the brim ; Titanic shades! enormous gloom !—as if the solid night Of Erebus rose suddenly to seize upon the light! It was a time for mariners to bear a wary eye, With such a dark conspiracy between the sea and sky! Down went my helm-close reef'd—the tack held freely in my hand— With ballast snug-I put about, and scudded for the land. Loud hiss'd the sea beneath her lee-my little boat flew fast, But faster still the rushing storm came borne upon the blast. Lord! what a roaring hurricane beset the straining sail! What furious sleet, with level drift, and fierce assaults of hail! |