Page:The Golden Violet.pdf/254

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Which from that moment kindled in my heart. I well remember how I flung myself, Like a young goddess, on a purple cloud Of light and odour—the rich violets Were so etherial in bloom and breath: And I,—I felt immortal, for my brain Was drunk and mad with its first draught of fame. 'T is strange there was one only cypress tree, And then, as now, I lay beneath its shade. The night had seen me pace my lonely room, Clasping the lyre I had no heart to wake, Impatient for the day: yet its first dawn Came cold as death; for every pulse sank down, Until the very presence of my hope Became to me a fear. The sun rose up; I stood alone mid thousands: but I felt