Page:The Venetian Bracelet.pdf/66

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From clove, and sandal, and cinnamon, E'er wash'd that boat when its task was done: 'Twas left in the care of maidens three, Lovely they were as maidens should be; And in the soft airs that around it flew, Perhaps their own breath left a perfume too. —There lay Prince, and his mood Made harmony with the solitude. —Oh pleasant is it for the heart To gather up itself apart; To think its own thoughts, and to be Free, as none ever yet were free, When, prisoners to their gilded thrall, Vain crowd meets crowd in lighted hall; With frozen feelings, tutor'd eye, And smile which is itself a lie.