Page:The Vow of the Peacock.pdf/117

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Mourn rather for those whom yet life is enthralling, Ah! weep for the living—weep not for the dead.

Months passed, and at Leoni's side The bright Irene stood a bride; They wore a joy somewhat subdued, With shadows from another mood: They gave the young, the lost, the fair, Tears that the happy well may spare. Here ends my lay; for what have I         With life's more sunny side to do? From night I only ask its sigh, From morn I only ask its dew: My lute was only made to pine Upon the weeping cypress-tree; Its only task and hope, Love mine, To breathe its mournful songs to thee.