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JULIET AFTER THE MASQUERADE.
From a picture, by Henry Thomson, Esq., R.A.
Those fond, vague dreams, that make love's happiness;
Its first—and oh, its last!
I.
She has left the lighted hall,
She has flung down cap and plume,
Her eye wears softer light,
And her cheek a tenderer bloom:
II.
And her hair in sunny showers
Falls o'er her marble brow,
From its midnight bonds of pearl,
Free as her thoughts are now.—
III.
She has left the yet glad dance,
O'er those gentle thoughts to brood,
That haunt a girl's first hour
Of love-touched solitude.
