But he that meeting, had not sought to gaze On landscapes, living though they were. He saw But her whose form before him rose, so bright, So beautiful, that all else faded from {32} The view: He heard no sound save that alone Which from his beating heart was sent: and oft He did essay to breathe the hallowed thoughts That in his bosom long had slept--the pent- Up fountains of his love to ope; but oft In vain, 'till faltering accents came at last, And told the feelings of his inmost soul. But _she_ was calm; no falling of the eye-- No heightened color's tinge--no trembling of That silver voice, spoke aught of passion there. Yet kindness breathed in every word that fell From off her Angel lips--and told that though Her heart with his beat not in unison, It still could feel for sorrows not its own. Though soft, like breath of pois'nous Simoom came Her voice. Young Hope her dewy pinions shook, And as she winged her airy flight away, Came casking Care her place to fill. And yet A moment's space he lingered there; and as Upon her saddened face he once again Did look with mingled feelings, inly swore To perish ere his love should fade and die. And she did pensive turn her steps along Their homeward way, again to be the life, The light, the chiefest joy of all around. II. A change swept o'er the aspect of my dream, And in its mystic flight my spirit bore Me to the festive hall. I saw them 'midst The thoughtless throng--their eyes lit up with joy-- Their lips all wreathed in smiles--and on their cheeks The glowing hues of pleasure mantled high. He spoke not oft to her, but frequent did Address him to some other fair--and all Did deem, and she did hope that love of her Was buried deep in Lethe's magic pool; And lighter then of heart to think that care His mind had left, unwonted gladness beamed Forth from her speaking eye, and lit with ten- Fold lustre up those features ever fair. III.