Page:Ambarvalia - Clough (1849).djvu/81



pain her gloomy eyes did she uplift, That Woman Old; with many a tempest torn Of sins and sorrows spent ere we were born, Her sallow brow appeared, o'er which a drift Of massive snow-white hair lay dead and still Or flew across, by fits, without her will.

There stood before her the enquiring Child: On the frail lids of his uncentred eyes Lay no weight heavier than a light surprise; His tresses soft, like silver undefiled, Hung on his sunbright face, or in a floating wreath Clouding his lips, moved mildly with his breath.

A Rock long-bearded with cold weeds marine, In whose wet womb the ocean-creatures sleep, Should it uplift its scalp above the deep, Were likest to that hellish Woman seen; But he a Lily stood, caressed by eve, And which the morning mists are loth to leave.