Page:Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 14 1825.pdf/7



knelt in prayer. A stream of sunset fell Through the stain'd window of her lonely cell, And, with its rich deep melancholy glow Flushing the marble beauty of her brow, While o'er her long hair's flowing jet it threw Bright waves of gold,—the autumn forest's hue— Seem'd all a vision's mist of glory, spread By picture's touch around some holy head, Virgin's or fairest martyr's!—In her eye, Which glanced as dark clear water to the sky, What solemn fervor lived! And yet what woe Lay like some buried thing, still seen below The glassy tide!—Oh! he that could reveal What life had taught that chasten'd heart to feel, Might speak indeed of woman's blighted years, And wasted love, and vainly bitter tears!