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From his dark eyes, too bright to bear,
O! she hath feared her soul was given
Some erring Spirit cast from heaven,
As warm in love, as fierce in ire
Full of the Day-God's living fire.
But quenched to-night that ardour seems,
And pale his cheek, and sunk his brow;Never before, but in her dreams,
Had she beheld him pale as now:
But sadden every waking scene,
All withered where they once have been.
“How sweetly,” said the trembling maid, Of her own gentle voice afraid, So long had they in silence stood, Looking upon that tranquil flood“How sweetly does the moonbeam smile “To-night upon yon leafy isle ! “Oft, in my fancy's wanderings, «I've wished that little isle had wings, And we, within its fairy bowers,
"Were wafted off to seas unknown, “Where not a pulse should beat but ours,
« And we might live, love, die alone! " Far from the cruel and the cold,
- Where the bright eyes of angels only “Should come around us, to behold
“A paradise so pure and lonely. “Would this be world enough for thee?”— Playful she turned, that he might see
The passing smile her cheek put on;
met hers, that smile was gone; And, bursting into heartfelt tears, “ Yes, yes,” she cried, “ my hourly fears, “My dreams have boded all too right“We part-for ever part-to-night! “I knew, I knew it could not last “'Twas bright, 'twas heavenly, but ’tis past !