miscellaneous poems.
145
She dreams, perchance, of grievous wrongs,
Of manhood's blighted truth,
Or fondly of her own lov'd France
And happy days of youth—
Of manhood's blighted truth,
Or fondly of her own lov'd France
And happy days of youth—
Or sadly muses o'er her lot,
With pensive step, and slow,
Wandering beneath that vaulted dome,
A beauteous form of woe.
With pensive step, and slow,
Wandering beneath that vaulted dome,
A beauteous form of woe.
The moon shines brightly o'er the scene,
And, by its mellow'd light,
Upon the ivy'd casement rests
An arm of ivory white.
And, by its mellow'd light,
Upon the ivy'd casement rests
An arm of ivory white.
And cautiously a female form
From that rude turret leant,
With stealthy glance, and anxious look
Upon the waters bent.
From that rude turret leant,
With stealthy glance, and anxious look
Upon the waters bent.
There is a ripple on the lake,
A sound upon the air,
And yet no breeze the waters stir,
The midnight sky is fair.
A sound upon the air,
And yet no breeze the waters stir,
The midnight sky is fair.
