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Rh And bright the sparkling zone round her slight waist, Fastening the foldings of her snowy robe.— She knelt, and hid her face; and when she rose, Her cheek was pale, and bore the trace of tears, Wearing that look of faded loveliness Which tells the blight of misery hath pass'd, And that the heart is withering silently! She gaz'd upon the glass which stood beside— It gave a lovely semblance back; a form Of matchless grace; a face where beauty dwelt; But sorrow's records there were deeply trac'd. The eloquence of that soft countenance Bore the dark characters of grief; the look She wildly gave, seem'd agony; the tears That did but tremble 'neath the eyelash, fell Upon the delicate hand that press'd her brow. Well might that glance be agony; so fair, In life's most happy season! yet to her