Peter Faultless to his brother Simon tales of night, in rhyme, and other poems. By the author of Night [i.e. Ebenezer Elliott] |
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 | Peter Faultless to his brother Simon |  |
XXIX.
She hung upon his bosom, weak;She look'd the love she could not speak.
He smil'd the rose back to her cheek:
“Thou fond and full heart! do not break.”
He seal'd with kisses warm her lips;
And—as the half-flying redbreast sips
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Then, perching on it, trills his song;—
So kiss'd he off her tears, to rest
Soothing the heart-throb, tortur'd long.
Like fairy, shod with gossamer,
Joy, unexpected, came to her,
For pass'd woe to atone.
Her lip lay on his neck embrac'd:
As if an angel's glance had chas'd
Her darkness, it was gone.
And who shall boast a heroine like mine?
Not more than woman, yet almost divine,
Minerva-like in battle she appears,
Venus in love, and Niobe in tears;
Before her Laila, Constance fade to air;
And ten to nothing! she shall thrash Gulnare!
| Peter Faultless to his brother Simon | |