Page:The Siege of Valencia.pdf/121

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—She too, thy daughter—doth her smile unmark'd Pass from thee, with its radiance, day by day? Shadows are gathering round her—seest thou not? The misty dimness of the spoiler's breath Hangs o'er her beauty, and the face which made The summer of our hearts, now doth but send, With every glance, deep bodings through the soul, Telling of early fate.

I see a change Far nobler on her brow!—She is as one, Who, at the trumpet's sudden call, hath risen From the gay banquet, and in scorn cast down The wine-cup, and the garland, and the lute Of festal hours, for the good spear and helm, Beseeming sterner tasks.—Her eye hath lost The beam which laugh'd upon th' awakening heart, E'en as morn breaks o'er earth. But far within Its full dark orb, a light hath sprung, whose source Lies deeper in the soul.—And let the torch Which but illumed the glittering pageant, fade! The altar-flame, i' th' sanctuary's recess, Burns quenchless, being of heaven!—She hath put on Courage, and faith, and generous constancy,