Lucile :: :: University of Virginia Library

Lucile

By Owen Meredith [i.e. E. R. B. Lytton]

Lytton, Edward Robert Bulwer Lytton (1831-1891)

[epigraph]

II.

III.

II.

III.

IV.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

XV.

XVI.

XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

XX.

XXI.

XXII.

XXIII.

XXIV.

XXV.

XXVI.

XXVII.

XXVIII.

IV.

CANTO IV. LETTER FROM COUSIN JOHN TO COUSIN ALFRED.

CANTO V.

VI.

CANTO VI.

II.

PART II.

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V.

O'er the soft atmosphere of this temple of grace
Rested silence and perfume. No sound reach'd the place.

In the white curtains waver'd the delicate shade
Of the heaving acacias, through which the breeze play'd.
O'er the smooth wooden floor, polish'd dark as a glass,
Fragrant white Indian matting allow'd you to pass.
In light olive baskets, by window and door,
Some hung from the ceiling, some crowding the floor,
Rich wild flowers, pluck'd by Lucile from the hill,
Seem'd the room with their passionate presence to fill:
Blue aconite, hid in white roses, reposed;
The deep belladonna its vermeil disclosed;
And the frail saponaire, and the tender blue-bell,
And the purple valerian,—each child of the fell
And the solitude flourish'd, fed fair from the source
Of waters the huntsman scarce heeds in his course,
Where the chamois and izard, with delicate hoof,
Pause or flit through the pinnacled silence aloof.