Then, amid a forest lonely
Does she seem to stray;
Our huge serpent, and one only,
Seems to mark her way.
Then begins her hour of terror;
Strange shapes know their time—
Struggling with some nameless error,
With some unknown crime.
Phantoms crowd around, repeating
Words that are of death;
Loud her startled heart is beating,
Louder than her breath.
But a rosy lip has kissed her,
With that kiss she wakes;
Pale she gazes on the sister
Who her slumber breaks.
Mighty must have been the sorrow,
Passionate the grief,
Which can thus a solace borrow,
From that haunted leaf.
Scarcer does the broken-hearted
Draw a living breath;
Better it were quite departed,
Than this life in death."
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