Page:The Vow of the Peacock.pdf/208

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Mixed with the wild briar-roses, Edward sat, Happy, for Marion lean'd upon his bosom In the deep fondness of the parting hour; One of those partings memory will keep Among its precious things. The setting sun Shed such rich colour o'er the cheek, which press'd Closer and closer, like a rose, that sought A shelter next his heart; the radiant eyes, Glorious as though the sky's own light were there, Yet timid, blue, and tender as the dove's; The soft arm thrown around his neck; the hair Falling in such profusion o'er a face That nestled like a bird upon his breast. Murmurs, the very breath of happiness; Low and delighted sighs, and lengthened looks, As life were looking words inaudible,