Page:The Vow of the Peacock.pdf/99

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With loud acclaim and greeting hand, As if she had not left their land: Deserted in her hour of need, With life and death upon her speed. But now she comes—the fair, the bright, As if her reign were a delight. Its path of flowers, its way through song, Rolls her triumphal car along; Noble or vassal, each one vies To catch the sunshine of her eyes: And yet beneath her silver veil The maiden's cheek is lovely pale. Ah, on such gentle cheek is laid The shadow of a lover's shade! Her smile had to Leoni flown— Alas! his answered not her own.