Page:Rosalind and Helen (Shelley).djvu/69

Rh Amid a bloomless myrtle wood, On a green and sea-girt promontory, Not far from where we dwelt, there stood In record of a sweet sad story, An altar and a temple bright Circled by steps, and o'er the gate Was sculptured, "To Fidelity;" And in the shrine an image sate, All veiled: but there was seen the light Of smiles, which faintly could express A mingled pain and tenderness Through that ethereal drapery. The left hand held the head, the right— Beyond the veil, beneath the skin, You might see the nerves quivering within— Was forcing the point of a barbed dart Into its side-convulsing heart. An unskilled hand, yet one informed With genius, had the marble warmed With that pathetic life. This tale It told: A dog had from the sea, When the tide was raging fearfully,