278
Margaret.
Then anger, shame, and cold disdain,
Warred on those paling lips again,
Till slowly, like a sullen rain,
The life-drops, tortured from her heart,
Spotted the marble altar stair
As if some red rose, burst apart,
Had strewed its petals there.
And she fell headlong, white and mute,
Striking her brow at the altar's foot.
They said she died from mere excess
Of life and love and happiness!
Warred on those paling lips again,
Till slowly, like a sullen rain,
The life-drops, tortured from her heart,
Spotted the marble altar stair
As if some red rose, burst apart,
Had strewed its petals there.
And she fell headlong, white and mute,
Striking her brow at the altar's foot.
They said she died from mere excess
Of life and love and happiness!
Be yours the bridal kiss, De l'Orme,
That's proffered half, and half denied,
But leave to me yon silent form
Veiled closely in its marble pride.
Reverent as he who guards a shrine,
I may not call its beauty mine.
All passive though the slumberer be,
St. Mary, crowned with charms divine,
Is not more safe from love and me.
That's proffered half, and half denied,
But leave to me yon silent form
Veiled closely in its marble pride.
Reverent as he who guards a shrine,
I may not call its beauty mine.
All passive though the slumberer be,
St. Mary, crowned with charms divine,
Is not more safe from love and me.
