Page:The complete poems of Emily Bronte.djvu/218

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GERALDINE

night, her comrades gathered all

Within their city's rocky wall;

When flowers were closed and day was o'er

Their joyous hearts awoke the more.

But lonely in her distant cave

She heard the river's restless wave

Chafing its banks with dreamy flow,

Music for mirth and wail for woe.

Palm trees and cedars towering high

Deepened the gloom of evening's sky,

And thick did raven ringlets veil

Her forehead, drooped like lily pale.

Yet I could hear my lady sing;

I knew she did not mourn;

For never yet from sorrow's spring

Such witching notes were born.

Thus poured she in that cavern wild

The voice of feelings warm,

As bending o'er her beauteous child

She clasped its sleeping form.