222
The jasmines mantling wreaths were hung
Upon the trelliced arch, and high
The rose its rich red clusters flung
Mid that star-cinctured tapestry.
'Twas evening, and a silvery ray
Beamed from the bright and full orbed moon,
Which sailing on her heaven-ward way,
Shone broadly on that fair saloon.
The lattice wide, as if for air,
Was open thrown—and faint and weak,
A form was seen reposing there,
With eyelids closed and pallid cheek—
Upon a velvet couch she lay,
But not to her a couch of rest;
Her long dark hair in disarray,
Her white arms folded o'er her breast.
