Page:Rosalind and Helen (Shelley, Forman).djvu/46

44 His cheek would change, as the noon-day sea Which the dying breeze sweeps fitfully. If but a cloud the sky o'ercast, You might see his colour come and go, And the softest strain of music made Sweet smiles, yet sad, arise and fade Amid the dew of his tender eyes; And the breath, with intermitting flow, Made his pale lips quiver and part. You might hear the beatings of his heart, Quick, but not strong; and with my tresses When oft he playfully would bind In the bowers of mossy lonelinesses His neck, and win me so to mingle In the sweet depth of woven caresses, And our faint limbs were intertwined, Alas! the unquiet life did tingle From mine own heart through every vein, Like a captive in dreams of liberty, Who beats the walls of his stony cell. But his, it seemed already free, Like the shadow of fire surrounding me! On my faint eyes and limbs did dwell That spirit as it passed, till soon, As a frail cloud wandering o'er the moon, Beneath its light invisible, Is seen when it folds its grey wings again To alight on midnight's dusky plain, I lived and saw, and the gathering soul Passed from beneath that strong controul, And I fell on a life which was sick with fear Of all the woe that now I bear.

Amid a bloomless myrtle wood, On a green and sea-girt promontory,