112
THE TROUBADOUR.
Short greeting past; De Valence read
All that the pale lip left unsaid;
On the wan brow, in the dimm'd eye,
The whole of youth's despondency,
Which at the first shock it has known
Deems its whole world of hope o'erthrown.
And it was fix'd, that at Marseilles,
Where the fleet waited favouring gales,
Raymond should join the warrior train,
Leagued 'gainst the infidels of Spain.
They parted:—Over Raymond's thought
Came sadness mingled too with shame;
When suddenly his memory brought
The long forgotten Eva's name.
Oh! Love is like the mountain tide,
Sweeping away all things beside,
