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 | Zóphiël ; or, the bride of seven |  |
XLIV.
“His voice, his mien, the lustre of his eye,
And pretty deed he had done, were theme of praise,
Though blent with fear that stranger should espy
Thy lonely haunts. When in the sunny rays
And pretty deed he had done, were theme of praise,
Though blent with fear that stranger should espy
Thy lonely haunts. When in the sunny rays
18
“He turned and went, with black locks clustering bright
Around his pillar neck,—‘'Tis pity he,’
Thou saidst, ‘in all the comeliness and might
Of perfect man,—'tis pity he should be
Around his pillar neck,—‘'Tis pity he,’
Thou saidst, ‘in all the comeliness and might
Of perfect man,—'tis pity he should be
“‘But an idolater! How nobly sweet
He tempers pride with courtesy! A flower
Drops honey when he speaks. His sandalled feet
Are light as antelope. He stands a tower.’
He tempers pride with courtesy! A flower
Drops honey when he speaks. His sandalled feet
Are light as antelope. He stands a tower.’
| Zóphiël ; or, the bride of seven | |