138
dialogue between two friends.
And stern and cold
My eyes meet hers. Their fatal blue
Has no more power to search me through.
That tale is told.
My eyes meet hers. Their fatal blue
Has no more power to search me through.
That tale is told.
II.
I can withstand her smile. My heart,
Which leapt if she but shone afar,
Sees her without a thrill or start,
Unmoved as frozen billows are,
When calm they lie
All stark and hushed beneath the moon,
No longer swayed by her soft breath,
Locked in a dark impassive swoon,
The rolling tides are still as death.
I hear her sigh,
And no wild tumult of the soul
Doth cast me prostrate at her feet;
No spirit tempests o'er me roll,
And no delirium, sad yet sweet,
Now holds me fast.
The joy, the passion, and the fever,
Are dead for ever and for ever.
The dream is past.
Which leapt if she but shone afar,
Sees her without a thrill or start,
Unmoved as frozen billows are,
When calm they lie
All stark and hushed beneath the moon,
No longer swayed by her soft breath,
Locked in a dark impassive swoon,
The rolling tides are still as death.
I hear her sigh,
And no wild tumult of the soul
Doth cast me prostrate at her feet;
No spirit tempests o'er me roll,
And no delirium, sad yet sweet,
Now holds me fast.
The joy, the passion, and the fever,
Are dead for ever and for ever.
The dream is past.
