Till that o'ergrown Barbarian in the East Transgress his ample bound to some new crown: Cries to Thee, 'Lord, how long shall these things be? How long this icy-hearted Muscovite Oppress the region?' Us, O Just and Good, Forgive, who smiled when she was torn in three; Us, who stand now, when we should aid the right A matter to be wept with tears of blood! VII. CARESS'D or chidden by the slender hand, And run thro' every change of sharp and flat; And Fancy came and at her pillow sat, When Sleep had bound her in his rosy band, And chased away the still-recurring gnat, And woke her with a lay from fairy land. But now they live with Beauty less and less, For Hope is other Hope and wanders far, Nor cares to lisp in love's delicious creeds; And Fancy watches in the wilderness, Poor Fancy sadder than a single star, That sets at twilight in a land of reeds. VIII. THE form, the form alone is eloquent! And win all eyes with all accomplish ment: Yet in the whirling dances as we went, My fancy made me for a moment blest To find my heart so near the beauteous breast That once had power to rob it of content. A moment came the tenderness of tears, The phantom of a wish that once could move, A ghost of passion that no smiles re store For ah! the slight coquette, she cannot love, PART III. A BOW-SHOT from her bower-eaves, A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, As he rode down to Camelot : All in the blue unclouded weather His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; As he rode down to Camelot. Sang Sir Lancelot. She left the web, she left the loom, PART IV. IN the stormy east-wind straining, Heavily the low sky raining Over tower'd Camelot; Down she came and found a boat And down the river's dim expanse Did she look to Camelot. |