Page:The Venetian Bracelet.pdf/207

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The light is kindling in his eye, The colour on his cheek; And thoughts, the passionate, the deep, Their charmed silence break;

Yet not to pour themselves in song, But in those burning words That come when some chance touch has waked The spirit's secret chords.

How eloquent, how beautiful Like morning in the north Melting away the dreary ice, His noble mind came forth!