Page:The Venetian Bracelet.pdf/78

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But o'er 's cheek the rose, Like moon-touch'd water, ebbs and flows; And eyes that droop like Summer flowers Told they could change with shine and showers. —The starry lyre has reach'd the sea,— Started young to his knee: Surely her dark eyes met his own; But, ah! the lovely dream is flown. —I need not tell how long the day Pass'd in its weariness away; I need not say how ' sight Pined for the darkness of the night. But darkness came, and with it brought The vision which the watcher sought. He saw the starry lyre arise— The seven fair sisters' glittering car—