Page:Thirty poems (IA thirtypoems00bryarich).pdf/204

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POEMS.
Flowed the meandering stream of that fair dance,Beneath that dome of light. Bright eyes that lookedFrom under lily brows, and gauzy scarfsSparkling like snow-wreaths in the early sun,Shot by the window in their mazy whirl.And there stood Eva, wondering at the sightOf those bright revellers and that graceful sweepOf motion as they passed her;—long she gazed,And listened long to the sweet sounds that thrilledThe frosty air, till now the encroaching coldRecalled her to herself. "Too long, too longI linger here," she said, and then she sprangInto the path, and with a hurried stepFollowed it upward. Ever by her sideHer little guide kept pace. As on they wentEva bemoaned her fault; "What must they think—
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