Page:The Vow of the Peacock.pdf/80

Rh

There stands the vase of crystal light, Vein'd with the red wine's crimson stains: Has the grape lost its spell to-night? For there the cup, untouch'd, remains.

I took my lute for one sad song; I sang it, though my heart was wrung— The sad, sweet notes we've loved so long— You listened not, though Leila sung.

I pressed my pale, pale cheek to thine; Though it was wet with many tears, No pressure came to answer mine,— No murmur breathed to soothe my fears.

Ah! silent still? then know I all! I know that we shall part at last!