246
The heir of Rookwood.
I pried into the gloom. I shouted "Lilia!"
My tongue was palsied by the rushing waters.
They tore the sweet name from my lips and fled.
Down the rough brake, along this dizzy path,
How had she kept her way? Frantic, I cast
My mantle back, and springing to the edge
Of the sheer rock, made ready for a leap
Wild as the cataract's. Just then, the moon.
As one who bears a lamp from stair to stair
Clambering a ruin, through the crevices
Of the black cloud obscurely shone, and stood
On its torn battlements.
The deep ravine
Was flooded with its light. Beneath my feet
Lay the round pool to which the waters leapt.
The air was heavy with a languid perfume,
For white unfolding to the moonlight gleamed
The web of lilies, whence I'd plucked my Lilia.
But where the child? Up from the leafy pool
I raised my eyes and glanced along the rocks
That overhung it. From my heart, a cry
Sprang to my lips and paused.
My tongue was palsied by the rushing waters.
They tore the sweet name from my lips and fled.
Down the rough brake, along this dizzy path,
How had she kept her way? Frantic, I cast
My mantle back, and springing to the edge
Of the sheer rock, made ready for a leap
Wild as the cataract's. Just then, the moon.
As one who bears a lamp from stair to stair
Clambering a ruin, through the crevices
Of the black cloud obscurely shone, and stood
On its torn battlements.
The deep ravine
Was flooded with its light. Beneath my feet
Lay the round pool to which the waters leapt.
The air was heavy with a languid perfume,
For white unfolding to the moonlight gleamed
The web of lilies, whence I'd plucked my Lilia.
But where the child? Up from the leafy pool
I raised my eyes and glanced along the rocks
That overhung it. From my heart, a cry
Sprang to my lips and paused.
