124
BEATRICE CENCI.
Hush! for a child's quick murmur breaks the charm
Of terror that was winding round me so;
And, at the white touch of her pretty arm,
Darkness and Death and Agony crouch low
In old-time dungeons: "Tell me, (is it harm
To ask you?) is the picture real, though?—
And why the beautiful ladies, all, you know,
Live so far-off, and die so long ago?"
Of terror that was winding round me so;
And, at the white touch of her pretty arm,
Darkness and Death and Agony crouch low
In old-time dungeons: "Tell me, (is it harm
To ask you?) is the picture real, though?—
And why the beautiful ladies, all, you know,
Live so far-off, and die so long ago?"
