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Denzil place

a story in verse. By Violet Fane [i.e. M. M. Lamb]

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Here stately terraces of sculptured stone
Look'd seaward, where against the ev'ning sky
The marble statues of forgotten gods
Uprose alternately with flow'ry urns
O'errun with clematis; from thence a walk,
Dark and mysterious e'en at noon-tide heat,
But now a seeming subterranean arch
Of arbutus and bay-trees, led the way
Towards a small pavilion, ruin'd too
And long ago deserted.
Geoffrey turn'd,
Uncheck'd by Constance, down this dim arcade
Where now and then a moonbeam sifted thro'
The mingling branches, threw a silv'ry streak
On the untended path, and but for which
They scarce had seen their way, and could but feel
The scarlet berries of the arbutus
Which roll'd like coral beads about their feet.

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Here was a bench, built in a stone recess
O'ertraced with scroll-work, near the grey remains
Of what had been of yore a Roman bath,
Where Constance, who was weary with her walk,
Sank down exhausted—Denzil held her hand,
And both were silent, for their hearts were full.