Waking the silent night? he look'd around:
A maiden, by her dark veil half conceal'd,
Was leaning on the tomb, breathing low sounds,
Like griefs low accents wailing o'er the sod.
He gaz'd upon her—it was Adelaide!
In the wild dream of phrenzy, she had fled
Her convent's cell, and sought her brother's urn:
She sank on the cold turf! the moonlight fell
Upon her pallid face.—Alas! how chang'd
From the fair rose he left! Her faded cheek
Wore a strange ghastly hue; her eye was dim—
Ah! how unlike its once so lovely light!—
Half clos'd and rayless; and the drooping lash
Hung heavily upon the glossy blue:
Her form was wasted, and her gasping lip
Had lost its rosy beauty; she was now
But the last shade of blighted loveliness!
He knelt beside her, but she knew him not—
The chill of death was freezing round her heart;
