Page:The Vow of the Peacock.pdf/156

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And far behind, thy golden hair, A bright sail, floated on the air; And on thy lips there was a song, As music wafted thee along. They say, sweet daughter of the sea, Thy look and song are treachery; Thy smile is but the honied bait To lure thy lover to his fate. I know not, and I care still less; It is enough of happiness To be deceived. Oh, never yet Could love doubt—no, one doubt would set His fettered pinions free from all His false but most delicious thrall. Love cannot live and doubt; and I, Vowed slave to my bright deity,