Page:The Vow of the Peacock.pdf/218

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She followed him. The sweet night breeze Brought odours from the orange trees,— She paused not for their fragrant sigh: There came a sound of music nigh, A voice of song, a distant chime To mark the vespers' starry time,— She heard it not: the moonbeams fell O'er vine-wreathed hill and olive dell, With cottages, and their gay show Of roses for a portico; One which stood by a beech alone,— Looked she not back upon that one? Alas! she looked but in that eye Where now was writ her destiny. The heart love leaves looks back ever; The heart where he is dwelling, never.