Love doth teach the young eye to seek
The shade of the lash, downcast on the cheek,—
Its darkness is brightened by gentle tears,
Its splendour is softened by tender fears;
But the lady's eye is stedfast and bright,
And its depths are solemn as those of the night.
Her beauty is that of a statue's face,
A calm, serene, and spiritual grace;
The mind on her lofty brow is bright
With a power that speaks not of earthly light;
And her raven locks o'er her white neck flow;
No throbbing pulse ever warmed its snow.
From an ancient line was the maiden sprung,
Haughty in deed, and daring in tongue,
She was as proud and as bold as the rest,
Though her spirit was turned to a higher quest,
Still the pride of her race was the only tie
That came between her soul and the sky.
She raised her voice, it was low and sweet,
Yet the wind sank down, as hushed at her feet;—
She drew around her a mystic line,
She named a name, and she signed a sign;—
At once to her charmed vision was given
The secrets the bright stars write upon heaven.
On her curved red lip was no sign of fear,
Though the phantom of future days drew near:
She watched, and saw a glorious band,
Spurs on the heel and swords in the hand;
L2
