 | Zóphiël ; or, the bride of seven |  |
XXXI.
“Oft have I looked in mortal hearts to know
How Love, by slow advances, knows to twine
Each fibre with his wreaths, then overthrow
At once each stern resolve. The maiden's mine!
How Love, by slow advances, knows to twine
Each fibre with his wreaths, then overthrow
At once each stern resolve. The maiden's mine!
90
“Yet have I never pressed her ermine hand,
Nor touched the living coral of her lip;
Though, listening to its tones, so sweet, so bland,
I've thought—oh impious thought!—who formed might sip!
Nor touched the living coral of her lip;
Though, listening to its tones, so sweet, so bland,
I've thought—oh impious thought!—who formed might sip!
| Zóphiël ; or, the bride of seven | |