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Wi’ monie a vow and locked embrace
O pale, pale now, those rosy lips
When first I met Thee.
HEN first I met thee, warm and young, There shone such truth about thee, And on thy lip such promise hung, I did not dare to doubt thee. I saw thee change, yet still relied, Still clung with hope the fonder, And thought, though false to all beside, From me thou could'st not wander. But go, deceiver ! go. The heart, whose hopes could make it Trust one so false, so low, Deserves that thou shouldst break it.
When every tongue thy follies named,
Or found, in e'en the faults they blamed,
E’en now, though youth its bloom has shed,
And days may come, thou false one yet,
The Specter Boat.
LG. rued false Ferdinand to leave a lovely maid forlorn, Who broke her heart and died to hide her blushing cheek from scorn. One night he dreamt he wooed her in their wonted bower of love, Where the flowers sprang thick around them, and the birds sang sweet above.
But the scene was swiftly changed into a churchyard's dismal view,
And her lips grew black beneath his kiss from love's delicious hue,
What more he dreamt, he told to none; but, shuddering, pale, and dumb,
Looked out upon the waves like one that knew his hour was COInc.
*T was now the dead watch of the night—the helm was lashed a-lee,
And the ship rode where Mount AEtna lights the deep Levantine sea;
When beneath its glare a boat came, rowed by a woman in her shroud,
Who, with eyes that made our blood run cold, stood up and spoke aloud:—
“Come, traitor, down, for whom my ghost still wanders unforgiven
Come down, false Ferdinand, for whom I broke my peace with heaven l’”
It was vain to hold the victim, for he plunged to meet her call,
Like the bird that shrieks and flutters in the gazing serpent's thrall.
THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS. 163
You may guess the boldest mariner shrunk daunted from the sight, For the Specter and her winding-sheet shone blue with hideous light; Like a fiery wheel the boat spun with the waving of her hand, And round they went, and down they went, as the cock crew
from the land.
The Bridge of Sighs.
NE more unfortunate,
Take her up tenderly,
Look at her garments
Touch her not scornfully
Make no deep scrutiny
Still, for all slips of hers
Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb— Her fair auburn tresses— Whilst wonderment guesses Where was her home?
Who was her father?
Alas! for the rarity