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Some few admiring what can ever lure
Maidens to leave the heaven serene and pure
Of parents' smiles for life's great cheat; a thing
Bitter to taste, sweet in imagining.

But they are all dispersed—and lo! she stands Looking in idle grief on her white hands, Alone within the garden now her own; And through the sunny air, with jangling tone, The music of the merry marriage-bells, Killing the azure silence, sinks and swells ;Absorbed like one within a dream who dreams That he is dreaming, until slumber seems A mockery of itself-when suddenly Antonio stood before her, pale as she. With agony, with sorrow, and with pride, He lifted his wan eyes upon the bride, And said—“ Is this thy faith?” and then as one Whose sleeping face is stricken by the sun With light like a harsh voice, which bids him rise And look upon his day of life with eyes Which

weep in vain that they can dream no more Ginevra saw her lover, and forbore To shriek or faint, and checked the stilling blood Rushing upon her heart, and unsubdued Said—“Friend, if earthly violence or ill, Suspicion, doubt, or the tyrannic will Of parents, chance, or custom, time, or change, Or circumstance, or terror, or revenge, Or wildered looks, or words, or evil speech, With all their stings and venom, can impeach

Dur love,—we love not :--if the grave, which

hides
The victim from the tyrant, and divides
The cheek that whitens from the eyes that dart
Imperious inquisition to the heart
That is another's, could dissever ours,
We love not.”—“ What! do not the silent hours
Beckon thee to Gherardi's bridal bed ?
Is not that ring” a pledge, he would have

said,
Of broken vows, but she with patient look
The golden circle from her finger took
And said—“Accept this token of my faith,
The pledge of vows to be absolved by death;
And I am dead or shall be soon-my knell
Will mix its music with that

merry
Does it not sound as if they sweetly said,

We toll a corpse out of the marriage bed?'
The flowers upon my bridal chamber strewn
Will serve unfaded for my bier-so soon
That even the dying violet will not die
Before Ginevra." The strong fantasy
Had made her accents weaker and more weak,
And quenched the crimson life upon her cheek,
And glazed her eyes, and spread an atmosphere
Round her, which chilled the burning noon with

fear,
Making her but an image of the thought,
Which, like a prophet or a shadow, brought
News of the terrors of the coming time.
Like an accuser branded with the crime.

bell;

He would have cast on a beloved friend,
Whose dying eyes reproach not to the end
The pale betrayer-he then with vain repentance
Would share, he cannot now avert, the sentence
Antonio stood and would have spoken, when
The compound voice of women and of men
Was heard approaching; he retired, while she
Was led amid the admiring company
Back to the palace,—and her maidens soon
Changed her attire for the afternoon,
And left her at her own request to keep
An hour of quiet and rest :like one asleep
With open eyes and folded hands she lay,
Pale in the light of the declining day.

Meanwhile the day sinks fast, the sun is set, And in the lighted hall the guests are met; The beautiful looked lovelier in the light Of love, and admiration, and delight, Reflected from a thousand hearts and eyes Kindling a momentary Paradise. This crowd is safer than the silent wood, Where love's own doubts disturb the solitude ; On frozen hearts the fiery rain of wine Falls, and the dew of music more divine Tempers the deep emotions of the time To spirits cradled in a sunny clime: How many meet, who never yet have met, To part too soon, but never to forget ? How many saw the beauty, power, and wit

Of looks and words which ne'er enchanted yet!
But life's familiar veil was now withdrawn :
As the world leaps before an earthquakc's dawn,
And unprophetic of the coming hours,
The matin winds from the expanded flowers
Scatter their hoarded incense, and awaken
The earth, until the dewy sleep is shaken
From every living heart which it possesses,
Through seas and winds, cities and wildernesses,
As if the future and the past were all
Treasured i’ the instant ;--so Gherardi's hall
Laughed in the mirth of its lord's festival,
Till someone asked—“ Where is the Bride ?”

And then
A bride's-maid went, and ere she came again
A silence fell upon the guests--a pause
Of expectation, as when beauty awes
All hearts with its approach, though unbeheld ;
Then wonder, and then fear that wonder quelled ;-
For whispers passed from mouth to ear which drew .
The colour from the hearer's cheeks, and flew
Louder and swifter round the company;
And then Gherardi entered with an eye
Of ostentatious trouble, and a crowd
Surrounded him, and some were weeping loud.

They found Ginevra dead! if it be death, 'lo lie without motion, or pulse, or breath, With waxen cheeks, and limbs cold, stiff, and white, And open eyes, whose fixed and glassy light

Mocked at the speculation they had owned ;
If it be death, when there is felt around
A smell of clay, a pale and icy glare,
And silence, and a sense that lifts the hair
From the scalp to the ankles, as it were
Corruption from the spirit passing forth,
And giving all it shrouded to the earth,
And leaving as swift lightning in its flight
Ashes, and smoke, and darkness : in our night
Of thought we know thus much of death,—no more
Than the unborn dream of our life before
Their barks are wrecked on its inhospitable shore.
The marriage feast and its solemnity
Was turned to funeral pomp—the company,
With heavy hearts and looks, broke up; nor they
Who loved the dead went weeping on their way
Alone, but sorrow mixed with sad surprise
Loosened the springs of pity in all eyes
On which that form, whose fate they weep in vain,
Will never, thought they, kindle smiles again.
The lamps which, half-extinguished in their haste,
Gleamed few and faint o'er the abandoned feast,
Showed as it were within the vaulted room
A cloud of sorrow hanging, as if gloom
Had passed out of men's minds into the air.
Some few yet stood around Gherardi there,
Friends and relations of the dead,—and he,
A loveless man, accepted torpidly
The consolation that he wanted not;
Awe in the place of grief within him wrought.

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