Juliette.
101
The moon rode up as the night wore on,
Looking down with a blinding glare
Into that chamber still and lone,
Touching the rough-hewn cross of stone,
And the prayer beads glittering there;
The loosened waves of the sleeper's hair,
And the curve of her shoulder, white and bare.
Looking down with a blinding glare
Into that chamber still and lone,
Touching the rough-hewn cross of stone,
And the prayer beads glittering there;
The loosened waves of the sleeper's hair,
And the curve of her shoulder, white and bare.
She dreamed! she dreamed! that dreary keep
Melted away in the calm moonbeams;
The sea-bird's call and the wave's hoarse sweep,
Changed for the lull of a forest deep,
And the pleasant voice of streams.
She seemed, at rest by a mossy stone,
To watch the blood-red sun go down,
And hang on the verge of the horizon
Like a ruby set in a golden ring;
To hear the wild birds sing
Up in the larch boughs, loud and sweet,
Over a turf where the soft waves beat
With a sound like a naiad's dancing feet.
Melted away in the calm moonbeams;
The sea-bird's call and the wave's hoarse sweep,
Changed for the lull of a forest deep,
And the pleasant voice of streams.
She seemed, at rest by a mossy stone,
To watch the blood-red sun go down,
And hang on the verge of the horizon
Like a ruby set in a golden ring;
To hear the wild birds sing
Up in the larch boughs, loud and sweet,
Over a turf where the soft waves beat
With a sound like a naiad's dancing feet.
