Page:The Venetian Bracelet.pdf/204

Rh

And thou hast lived o'er scenes like these, The terrible, the past, Where hearts must either break or freeze,— And thine has done the last.

Thou movest amid the heartless throng With school'd and alter'd brow: Thy face has worn its mask so long, It is its likeness now.

Where is the colour that once flush'd   With every eager word? Where the sweet joyous laugh, that gush'd   Like spring songs from the bird?