Page:Poems Blagden.djvu/61

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rome. 1870.
31
And presses her shut eyes, so sadly sweet;
The swart Campagna stretches round her feet,
      As 'twere a carpet spread.

Around (bold headlands in that tideless sea)
Surge awful ruins, prone, august, and hoar,
Void temples, broken columns, arches vast,
Where oracles and echoes of the past
      Reverberate evermore!

An empty wallet lies beside her hand,
A cross defaced hangs on her scarlet vest;
Forlorn and poor, she sleeps abandoned there,
Her face, o'ershadowed by a grand despair,
      Is hushed in mournful rest.

Unconscious of all peril, calm, she sleeps,
Though soon the treacherous fatal dews will rise
Which lead from sleep to death; soft cobweb folds
Thus bind a captured fly in spider holds,
      Where, crushed, it slowly dies.

The poison murders with a bland caress,
A sugared venom 'neath which life expires;