70
THE GOLDEN VIOLET.
Lady, farewell! I pray thee give
One look whereon may absence live,
One word upon my ear to dwell,
And then, sweet lady mine, farewell.
Then softly open was a casement flung,
And a fair face from out the lattice hung;
The trace of heavy tears was on her cheek,
But dash'd aside, as though the heart were weak
In tenderness, yet it sought strength to show
An outward firmness, whate'er lurk'd below.
T was but a moment's struggle, and the pride
That nerves the softness of a hero's bride
Was on her lofty forehead, as she gave
A sunny curl beside his plume to wave.
"I have another gift which you must take,
And guard it, Eglamour, well for my sake:
