JULIETTE.
Where the rough crags lift, and the sea-mews call,
Yet frowns Earl Hubert's castle tall,
Close at the base of its western wall
The chafed waves stand at bay;
And the May-rose twined in its banquet hall
Dips to the showering spray.
For the May-rose springs, and the ivy clings,
And the wall-flower flaunts in the ruined bower,
And the sea-bird foldeth her weary wings
Up in the stone-gray tower;
Scaling an arch of the postern rude
A wild vine drops to the water's flow,
Yet frowns Earl Hubert's castle tall,
Close at the base of its western wall
The chafed waves stand at bay;
And the May-rose twined in its banquet hall
Dips to the showering spray.
For the May-rose springs, and the ivy clings,
And the wall-flower flaunts in the ruined bower,
And the sea-bird foldeth her weary wings
Up in the stone-gray tower;
Scaling an arch of the postern rude
A wild vine drops to the water's flow,
