Page:The Venetian Bracelet.pdf/268

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A maiden pass'd each summer eve away. Life's closing colour was upon her cheek, Crimson as that which marks the closing day: And her large eyes, the radiant and the clear, Wore all the ethereal beauty of that heaven Where she was hastening. Still her rosebud mouth Wore the voluptuous sweetness of a spring Haunted by fragrance and by melody. Her hair was gather'd in a silken net, As if its luxury of auburn curls Oppress'd the feverish temples all too much; For you might see the azure pulses beat In the clear forehead painfully; and oft Would her small hands be press'd upon her brow, As if to still its throbbing. Days pass'd by, And thus beside that casement would she spend