The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly :: :: University of Virginia Library

All now was loneliness, and he return'd,
With weary steps; but as he glanced again
Along the portal, where the sunlight burn'd
On fairy Arabesque, and painted pane,
And, in the tangled woodbine's crimson train
Wreathing the turban'd marble, lay inurn'd
The last Sultana,—kneeling by the tomb
He saw a shape, 'twas hidden half in gloom;
He saw a cowl, a dazzling, upturn'd eye,
Touch'd with the hue of tear-drops scarcely dry;
He knew that face, 'twas pictured on his heart,
“But one, one word,—or form of earth or heaven,
His passion might be heard, must be forgiven.”
The vision was in prayer; he saw it start;
He swept aside the foliage, saw the bough,
That the light flyer bent, returning slow;
Saw where the sandal press'd the blossoms strown;
The rest was shadow, mystery;—it was flown.