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MARIANA IN THE SOUTH.
ii.
From brow and bosom slowly down
Thro' rosy taper fingers drew
Her streaming curls of deepest brown
To left and right, and made appear
Still-lighted in a secret shrine,
Her melancholy eyes divine,
The home of woe without a tear.
And "Ave Mary," was her moan,
"Madonna, sad is night and morn,"
And "Ah," she sang, "to be all alone,
To live forgotten, and love forlorn."
iii.
Into deep orange o'er the sea,
Low on her knees herself she cast,
Before Our Lady murmur'd she;