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XIX.
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XIX.

And thus she warned that restive wight,
And thus she spoke that sheeny night!
As Luna's fair, but tranquil face,
In heaven's blue concave left her trace,
While by her side two stars were seen—
But what could this long vigil mean?
And she is gone into heaven again,
And never, never shall he, in vain,
Behold her beauty more!

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But as she hath spoken shall be his pain,
Till the grave shall cover him o'er!
And her frosty cheeks, and her hands so wet,
And her icy lips with his own that met;
And her sylph-like beauty that summer night,
And her downy steps that were lovingly light,—
Are gone again into heaven above,
To answer against him with consummate love.