Page:Poems Terry, 1861.djvu/198

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194
Basile renaud.
That hides a traveller far below
  Its shining drift.
The winter nights came on too fast,
But they two did not hear the blast
That howled, an.d howled, and shivered past,
  And muttered in the rift.

One night we were both grave and gay,
For Angelique had gone away,
And one was sad, but two would play,
  Basile Renaud.
The firelight flickered in the hall,
The sconces burned with torches tall;
I, blinded, hunted to the wall
  Basile Renaud.

"Will you be hunter?" Marie said;
She tied the kerchief round his head;
I had a knife—and it grew red—
  But not with flame.
His brow bent down upon my arm.
I laughed to see the working charm.
He had no will to do us harm,
  Nor breath to murmur blame.

They haled us to a prison high,
Where all day long thick shadows lie,