Page:The Vow of the Peacock.pdf/144

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With life the pencil and the lyra's dreams, Giving reality to visioned gleams Of bright divinities. Amid the crowd That in the presence of young Hero bowed, Was one who knelt with fond idolatry, As if in homage to some deity, Gazing upon her as each gaze he took Must be the very last—that intense look That none but lovers give, when they would trace On their heart's tablets some adored face. The radiant priestess from the temple past: Yet there Leander staid, to catch the last Wave of her fragrant hair, the last low fall Of her white feet, so light and musical; And then he wandered silent to a grove, To feed upon the full heart's ecstasy.