Page:The New Monthly Magazine - Volume 011.djvu/565

 Those creatures strange, until he saw the foe
 * Made no advancement, and the gay brunette

Laugh heartily in the o'erpowering flow
 * Of mirth that she was bursting with—she set

Her flowers upon the ground, and needs must go
 * Towards the stranger, who in terror yet

Couch'd his keen hunting-spear, retiring still As she came on, but could not find the will

To deal a blow—she was unarm'd as well,
 * Her power look'd small to his, and then her face,

Her beauty might a raging tiger quell,
 * And its enchantment every moment's space

Wove with more influence its magic spell:
 * She smiled upon him, ask'd him if the chace

Had stolen his faculties, and hoped he 'd ne'er Kill her as he would kill the forest deer.

And then the blue-eyed maid her sister joins,
 * Her long bright locks in waves luxuriant spread;

Her sister's arm she takes, and thus purloins
 * Part of the youth's wild gaze, her lovely head

Archly inclined, around her forehead coins
 * Of her fair hair hung rich, bordering the red,

The morning flush on snow, of her pure cheek— To Valentine she said in accent meek:—

"Come, stranger, tired with hunting you must be,
 * Seat yourself in that bower, for rest is good;

And you can travel homeward presently,
 * When you have eat some fruit or homely food."—

"Yes, come," the gay brunette rejoin'd with glee,
 * And took his wrist to put him in the road.

He could not speak between delight and fear— Which he felt most of is not quite-so clear.

But at the maiden's touch there something rush'd
 * Into his frame he never knew before—

Something that thrill'd through every vein, then gush'd
 * In lightning fire from every bursting pore:—

Now chill he felt, and now with heat was flush'd,
 * And all before a moment had gone o'er—

Then suddenly, as by magician's wand, His spear dropped idly from his trembling hand.

Thus offering no resistance, passive led
 * As by superior power where will is vain,

He went toward the bower with faltering tread,
 * Speechless, confused, and on his brow like rain

Damp vapours: stood, and in his swimming head
 * Fever and faintness held alternate reign;

He heavily breathed, his heart beat quick, his eye Was to suffusion wet, his lips were dry.

On one side walk'd the fair and blue-eyed maid,
 * Smiling upon him with a witching air;

On the other she with eyes of darkest shade,
 * As moonless heaven when clouds are mustering there;

But they had living fire deeply inlaid
 * That now and then flash'd forth—she knew not care;

Generous and gay, in spirit passionate, She fear'd not fortune, and she laugh'd at fate—