University of Virginia Library

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154

IMITATED FROM THE TROUBADOUR SORDEL.

Her words, methinks, were cold and few;
We parted coldly; yet,
Quick-turning after that adieu,
How kind a glance I met!
A look that was not meant for me,
Yet sweeter for surprise,
As if her soul took leave to be
One moment in her eyes:
Now tell me, tell me, gentle friends,
Oh, which shall I believe,
Her eyes, her eyes that bid me hope,
Her words that bid me grieve?

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155

Her words, methinks, were few and cold:
What matter! Now I trust,
Kind eyes, unto your tale half-told,
Ye speak because ye must!
Too oft will heavy laws constrain
The lips, compelled to bear
A message false; too often fain
To speak but what they dare;
Full oft will words, will smiles betray,
But tears are always true;
Looks ever mean the thing they say:
Kind eyes, I trust to you!