mesmerism.
115
IX.
I must be brief!—'twas here we met, I said
(Methinks I see them still),
For the last time. She sate with drooping head
And he gazed on her; will
And power in that dark eye intense—
His heart all ice, his love all sense.
(Methinks I see them still),
For the last time. She sate with drooping head
And he gazed on her; will
And power in that dark eye intense—
His heart all ice, his love all sense.
X.
I had borne much. This time, as 'twas the last,
He seemed. resolved to strain,
Beyond all pangs through which I yet had passed,
My jealous, maddened pain.
With a voluptuous sensuousness
His fingers lingered o'er each tress.
He seemed. resolved to strain,
Beyond all pangs through which I yet had passed,
My jealous, maddened pain.
With a voluptuous sensuousness
His fingers lingered o'er each tress.
XI.
He touched her hand, he bent above her brow,
Her neck, her limbs; the whole
Of that fair body 'neath his will did bow;
He seemed to sway her soul.
No quivering lyre could yield as much
Obedience to its master's touch.
Her neck, her limbs; the whole
Of that fair body 'neath his will did bow;
He seemed to sway her soul.
No quivering lyre could yield as much
Obedience to its master's touch.
