Page:The Venetian Bracelet.pdf/208

Rh

He stood the centre of the ring, Awakening in each breast Feelings and thoughts, forgotten, though Their noblest and their best.

'Twas but a moment while they own'd   The youthful poet's sway; A beacon light upon the hill, To warn and die away.

Again his downcast eye was dim, Again his cheek was pale; Again around his beating heart Closed its accustom'd veil.