Euphrenia or the Test of Love | ||
XXXVIII.
The curtains sheltering her couchOf virgin, spotless white,
Shaded a form as angel's pure,
A face as seraph's bright;
Her head thrown slightly backward,
And draperied by her hair,
Pressed on her pillow tenderly;
Her forehead smooth and fair;
The fringes of her close-veiled eyes
Swept her soft velvet cheek;
Her lips were gently parted,
As if about to speak;
23
A soft, half sobbing sigh,
Proved sleep scarce equal to the task
Of conquering memory.
Euphrenia or the Test of Love | ||