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88

ROSALINE.

Thou look'd'st on me all yesternight,Thine eyes were blue, thy hair was brightAs when we murmured our troth-plightBeneath the thick stars, Rosaline!Thy hair was braided on thy head,As on the day we two were wed,Mine eyes scarce knew if thou wert dead,—But my shrunk heart knew, Rosaline!
The death-watch ticked behind the wall,The blackness rustled like a pall,The moaning wind did rise and fallAmong the bleak pines, Rosaline!
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