Page:Carroll - Phantasmagoria and other poems (1869).djvu/167

Rh  Of a Beatrice pale and stern,
 * With the lips of a dumb despair,

With the innocent eyes that yearn—
 * Yearn for the young sweet hours of life,
 * Far from sorrow and far from strife,

For the happy summers that never return,
 * When the world seemed good and fair:

Of a Beatrice glorious, bright—
 * Of a sainted, ethereal maid,

Whose blue eyes are deep fountains of light,
 * Cheering the poet that broodeth apart,
 * Filling with gladness his desolate heart,

Like the moon when she shines thro' a cloudless night
 * On a world of silence and shade.

And the visions waver and faint,
 * And the visions vanish away

That my fancy delighted to paint—