Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/274

260 And richer beauty blushes on her cheek. Enough. Now must I strive to fix that form That haunts my brain—the blind, old Count Camillo, The Prince s oracle. Midst the thick throng My fancy singled him ; white beard, white hair, Sealed eyes, and brow lit by an inward light. So will I paint mine Isaac blessing Esau, While Jacob kneels before him blind, betrayed By his own flesh !

As stands aside, lost in thought, enter  and. See, the impatient day Wakes in the east.

One moment here, signora, Breathe we the charm of this enchanted night. Look where behind yon vines the slow moon sets, Hidden from us, while every leaf hangs black, Each tender stalk distinct, each curling edge Against the silver sky.

What, father! here?