Page:The Improvisatrice.pdf/123

Rh

And there are many, who, with witching song And wild guitar's soul-thrilling melody, Or the lute's melting music, float along O'er the blue waters, still and silently. That night had sent her best display Of young and gallant, beautiful and gay. There was a bark a little way apart From all the rest, and there two lovers leant:— One with a blushing cheek and beating heart, And bashful glance, upon the sea-wave bent; She might not meet the gaze the other sent Upon her beauty;—but the half-breathed sighs,} The deepening colour, timid smiling eyes,} Told that she listened Love's sweet flatteries.} Then they were silent:—words are little aid To Love, whose deepest vows are ever made