194
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
THE LADY OF THE CASTLE.
From the "Portrait Gallery," an unfinished Poem.
If there be but one spot upon thy name,
One eye thou fear'st to meet, one human voice
Whose tones thou shrink'st from—Woman! veil thy face,
And bow thy head—and die!
Thou seest her pictured with her shining hair,
(Famed were those tresses in Provençal song,}
Half braided, half o'er cheek and bosom fair
Let loose, and pouring sunny waves along
Her gorgeous vest. A child's light hand is roving
Midst the rich curls, and oh! how meekly loving
Its earnest looks are lifted to the face,
Which bends to meet its lip in laughing grace!
