The heir of Rookwood.
241
A riband round her waist, and at her throat
Fastening the open folds of her thin robe.
Then all was dark. All silent too, I heard not
A step upon the stairs. Suddenly issued
From the low tower door a figure clad
In filmy white. Across the lawns it fled.
Whither?
The stars were paling in the east
When my affianced wife came hurrying back.
I heard her pause beside my chamber door
That stood ajar, then, up the winding stair
Pass to her own.
I questioned her that morn
With keen, cold eyes. Her flashing glance braved mine,
Wavered and fell—a glittering blade struck down
By heavier steel. Thenceforth she fled me. Came
Our bridal day and passed. I would not note it,
And Lilia—had forgot.
I'd fallen asleep
One day at noon—my slumber so transparent,
That through its painted curtain of swift dreams,
Shone, visible, the steadfast things beyond.
Fastening the open folds of her thin robe.
Then all was dark. All silent too, I heard not
A step upon the stairs. Suddenly issued
From the low tower door a figure clad
In filmy white. Across the lawns it fled.
Whither?
The stars were paling in the east
When my affianced wife came hurrying back.
I heard her pause beside my chamber door
That stood ajar, then, up the winding stair
Pass to her own.
I questioned her that morn
With keen, cold eyes. Her flashing glance braved mine,
Wavered and fell—a glittering blade struck down
By heavier steel. Thenceforth she fled me. Came
Our bridal day and passed. I would not note it,
And Lilia—had forgot.
I'd fallen asleep
One day at noon—my slumber so transparent,
That through its painted curtain of swift dreams,
Shone, visible, the steadfast things beyond.
