Page:Poems Welby.djvu/92

And when sweet jasmine vines their wreaths were looping
 Around her bower, beneath their fragrant shade
With her fair head upon his bosom drooping,
 She'd list entranced to all the loved one said.

And at the hour, when silvery dew-drops slumbered
 Upon the whispering grass and young rose-leaves,
With restless heart each quiet star she numbered,
 For he would seek her side at starry eves;
And though beneath his glance her heart would quiver,
 And her voice, when to him she spoke or sung,
Seemed like the sad moan of a low-voiced river,
 Still in his presence tremblingly she hung.

But when she found he loved her as a brother
 Would love a gentle sister, with deep art
She tried each wild and wayward thought to smother,
 But 't was a bitter task—it broke her heart;
For, though her red lips woke a strain of sadness,
 A tear into her hazel eye would spring,
And in its depths there shone a dreamy sadness,
 That told of deep distress and sorrowing.

But, when far, far away o'er dell and mountain,
 He left her side to seek a distant land,
Love still hung weeping over Memory's fountain,
 And her young brow drooped on her pale thin hand;