Part 26 (2/2)

XXIX.

I bless thy lips, thy l.u.s.trous eyes, Thy face, thy feet, thy forehead fair, The light that s.h.i.+nes in summer skies,-- In garden walks when thou art there,-- And all the gra.s.s beneath thy feet, And all the songs thou singest, Sweet!

x.x.x.

But blessing thus,--ah, woe's the day!-- I know what tears I shall not shed, What flowers will bloom, and, bright as they, What bells will ring when I am dead.

Ah, kill me, kiss me, curse me, Thou!

But let me be thy minstrel now.

ELeANORE.

I.

The forest flowers are faded all, The winds complain, the snow-flakes fall, Eleanore!

I turn to thee, as to a bower:-- Thou breathest beauty like a flower, Thou smilest like a happy hour, Eleanore!

II.

I turn to thee. I bless afar Thy name, which is my guiding-star, Eleanore!

And yet, ah G.o.d! when thou art here I faint, I hold my breath for fear.

Art thou some phantom wandering near, Eleanore?

III.

Oh, take me to thy bosom fair; Oh, cover me with thy golden hair, Eleanore!

There let me lie when I am dead, Those morning beams about me spread, The glory of thy face o'erhead, Eleanore!

[Ill.u.s.tration: MARIE]

THE STATUE.

I.

See where my lady stands, Lifting her l.u.s.trous hands,-- Here let me bow.

Image of truth and grace!

Maid with the angel-face!

Earth was no dwelling-place For such as thou.

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