Page:Poems (IA poemstennalfr00tennrich).pdf/36

 Poured divine solace, or the rise Of moonlight from the margin gleamed, Volcano-like, afar, and streamed On her white arm, and heavenward eyes. Not all alone she made her moan, Yet ever sang she, night and morn, "Madonna, lo! I am all alone, Love-forgotten and love-forlorn.”