Page:The Vow of the Peacock.pdf/356

Rh

There fling off the wreath and the sandal, And bid the dark curtains round close; For your cheek from the morning's tired slumber Must win its sweet exile the rose. What, weary and saddened! this evening Is an earnest what all pleasures seem— A few eager hours' enjoyment— A toil, a regret, and a dream!