Page:The Hundred Best Poems (lyrical) in the English language - second series.djvu/130

 (With that she tore her robe apart, and half The polish'd argent of her breast to sight Laid bare.Thereto she pointed with a laugh, Showing the aspick's bite.)

"I died a Queen.The Roman soldier found Me lying dead, my crown about my brows, A name for ever!—lying robed and crown'd, Worthy a Roman spouse."

Her warbling voice, a lyre of widest range Struck by all passion, did fall down and glance From tone to tone, and glided thro' all change Of liveliest utterance.

When she made pause I knew not for delight; Because with sudden motion from the ground She raised her piercing orbs, and fill'd with light The interval of sound.

Still with their fires Love tipt his keenest darts; As once they drew into two burning rings All beams of Love, melting the mighty hearts Of captains and of kings.

Slowly my sense undazzled.Then I heard A noise of some one coming thro' the lawn, And singing clearer than the crested bird That claps his wings at dawn.

"The torrent brooks of hallow'd Israel From craggy hollows pouring, late and soon, Sound all night long, in falling thro' the dell, Far-heard beneath the moon. 108