Juliet After The Masquerade By Thompson
HE left the festival, for it seem'd
Now that her eye no longer dwelt on him,
And sought her chamber,--gazed, (then turn'd away),
Upon a mirror that before her lay,
HE left the festival, for it seem'd
Now that her eye no longer dwelt on him,
And sought her chamber,--gazed, (then turn'd away),
Upon a mirror that before her lay,
HE stands within the silent square,
That square of state, of gloom;
A heavy weight is on the air,
Which hangs as o'er a tomb
I
SH for the days of the olden time,
When the hours were told by the abbey chime,
When the glorious stars looked down through the midnigh dim,
FE has dark secrets; and the hearts are few That treasure not some sorrow from the world— A sorrow silent, gloomy, and unknown,
Yet colouring the future from the past
We see the eye subdued, the practised smile,
The word well weighe...
NG years have past since last I stood Alone amid this mountain scene,
Unlike the future which I dreamed,
How like my future it has been
A cold grey sky o'erhung with clouds,
ST art, the stars above Were fated on thy birth to shine;
Oh, born of beauty and of love,
What early poetry was thine
The softness of Ionian
ST
RY
MY home and haunt are in every leaf,
Whose life is a summer day, bright and brief,--I live in the depths of the tulip's bower,
ND the summer sun shone in the sky,
And the rose's whole life was in its sigh,
When her eyelids were kiss'd by a morning beam,
And the Nymph rose up from her moonlit dream;
AY, screen thy favourite dove, fair child,
Ay, screen it if you may,--Yet I misdoubt thy trembling
Will scare the hawk away
That dove will die, that child will weep,--Is this their destinie
ER more, when the day is o'er,
Will the lonely vespers sound;
No bells are ringing—no monks are singing,
When the moonlight falls around
TH
thou art a lovely time,
With thy wild and dreaming eyes;
Looking onwards to their prime,
Ay, gaze upon her rose-wreath'd hair, And gaze upon her smile; Seem as you drank the very air Her breath perfumed the while; And wake for her the gifted line, That wild and witching lay, And swear your heart is as a shrine, That only holds her swa...