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THE FIRST.
A lovely and a languid hour,
Long is the shadow on the flower,
And twilight with her first soft tears
Amid the cypress grove appears.
Listening for one beloved foot,
Sweeter to her than song or lute,
The ladye leans above the chords,
Deep in those thoughts that ask not words.
A little while hath she been bride
To him who lingers at her side,
As life had nothing left to show
More than that fairy form below.
c 2
