Page:Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 13 1825.pdf/13

—What found that dayspring here?—Two fair forms laid
Like sculptur'd sleepers; from the myrtle shade
Casting a gleam of beauty o'er the wave,
Still, mournful, sweet!—Were such things for the grave?
Could it be so indeed?—That radiant girl,
Deck'd as for bridal hours!—long braids of pearl
Amidst her shadowy locks were faintly shining,
As tears might shine, with melancholy light,
And there was gold her slender waist entwining,
And her pale graceful arms—how sadly bright!
And fiery gems upon her breast were lying,
And round her marble brow red roses dying.
—But she died first!—the violet's hue had spread
O'er her sweet eyelids, with repose oppress'd;
She had bow'd heavily her gentle head,
And, on the youth's hush'd bosom, sunk to rest.
So slept they well!—the poison's work was done,
Love with true heart had striven—but Death had won.
F. H.