38
That hangs around, like dim futurity,
Tho' the eye may not pierce it, yet it may
Image ideal loveliness, and trace
Bright shapes, which if the shadows were dispell'd,
Might be but blanks; for never yet did life
Present the path of pleasantness we dream'd;
Tho' like the assurance the sweet moonlight gives
Of the reflected sun, our hopes shine forth,
And tell us all that fancy paints is true.
III.
She knelt before the altar, while around
Swell'd deep, slow, solemn music. She was robed,
As a young bride, in rich and rare attire:
The brilliants flash'd, amid the auburn waves
Of her luxuriant hair, and rosy wreathes
Fell with the glossy curls upon her neck.
