Graham's Magazine Vol XXXIII No. 3 September 1848Various
General
Graham's Magazine Vol XXXIII No. 3 September 1848
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
That pair of eyes were the appurtenances belonging to a face that
might have proved no uninteresting study to the physiognomist, albeit
it would have puzzled one not a little, methinks, to have formed a
satisfactory conclusion therefrom, so full of contradictions did it
seem. A mass of waving hair fell around a brow high and
well-developed, though somewhat darkly tinged by the warmth, mayhap,
of a southern sun, and the eyes were large and lustrous, yet there was
a something unfathomable in their depths, which made one doubt if they
were truly the index of the soul, and might not be made to assume
whatever expression the mind within willed. At present, however, they
were filled only with deep admiration mingled with surprise, while
around the mouth, which, in repose, wore a slightly scornful curve,
there played a frank and winning smile, as, advancing with a quiet
courtesy that at once bespoke him a man of the world, despite slouched
hat and hunting-frock, the intruder upon our heroine's solitude
exclaimed, with half-earnest, half-jesting gallantry, "Prithee, fair
woodland nymph, suffer a lone knight, who has wandered to the confines
of a Paradise unawares, to bow the knee in thy service, and as
atonement meet for venturing unbidden into thy hidden sanctum, to
proffer thee the homage of his loyal heart!"
Fanny was but a simple country maiden, all unskilled in the light and
graceful nothings which form the substance of worldly converse, and so
the warm, rich crimson crept into her cheek,
"The color which his gaze had thrown
Upon a cheek else pale and fair,
As lilies in the summer air."
and the wee foot forthwith commenced beating a tatoo upon the heads of
the unoffending flowers around, who breathed forth their perfumed
sighs in mute reproachfulness; but she was still a woman, and so with
all a woman's ready tact she replied, though with the flush deepening
on her cheek, and a scarce-perceptible tremor in her voice,
"Indeed, sir stranger, since thou hast given me such unwonted power, I
must first use my sceptre of command in banishing all intruders into
my august presence, and invaders of this 'hidden sanctum,' which is
held sacred to mine own idle feet alone!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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