THE FALSE ONE.
138
Literary Gazette 29th November 1823, Page 763
On rode the Bridegroom, to the breath of flutes
And the salute of trumpets. Suddenly
A gush of perfume and a sound of song
Rose slow and sweet,—they ushered in the Bride.
On came the Ladye, with her bright hair wreathed
Around with Indian pearls; a silver veil
Played o'er her jewelled waist. And they were wed,
That dark-eyed Cavalier, and that sweet dame.
And as the gay procession left the church,
Gathered a multitude around, and wished
All happiness to their Hero and his Bride;
And to the flourish of glad instruments,
A chorus of rich voices made reply.
Yet ever and anon a single song,
A low and melancholy song, was heard,
The very echo of a broken heart,
Like the swan dying in soft music. None
Of all the train could tell whence came that voice;
But each one felt its influence, as it waked
In each some sad forgotten memory;
But more than all, it seemed to call dark thought
Upon the Bridegroom's forehead, and his lip
Grew pale with some deep feeling. But it ceased,
And each felt as a weight had left his heart,
When died those tones of sorrow into silence;
But all remarked how strange a gloom had fallen
Over the Count. Yet on they rode, and reached
His palace, bright like day with perfumed lamps:
The stately banquet was spread gorgeously,
And in the glory of the festal hall,
And in the gladness of its melody,
All soon forgot the melancholy song. - - -
