nce fair,
His pallid face sunk in the outspread palms,
Moist with the dew that her dear loss embalms.

LXXI.

Soft through the lattice steals a gentle voice,
Breathing his name in accents faint and weak,
Tones that in past days made his soul rejoice,
And now send crimson currents to his cheek.
"Dear vision," said he, "of long cherish'd joys!
"That now so sweetly in my soul dost speak,
"Fade not away, but like a fixed star,
"Shine on my spirit from thy heavens afar.

LXXII.

"Oh! thou art lovely in thy radiant sphere,
"As thou wert once, the day-star of my heart,
"Revealing ever shadowless and clear
"The blessed rays that in thy spirit start.
"O light! O life! O angels hovering near!
"Pity us, sunder'd thus so far apart."
Upon her love the maid imploring cries--
Awaken, Julian, or thy loved one dies!

LXXIII.

He rose, and to the lattice tranced went,
Where through the opened eaves the moonlight fell,
And to his tearful glances downward bent,
Show'd that dear form, loved and remember'd well.
Gazed he in fond and loving wonderment,
As one who slumbers under Fancy's spell,
On his beloved in cerements snowy white,
All in the moonrays pictured there so bright.

LXXIV.

"Dream of my soul!" he said, "thus softly stealing
"From thine empyrean o'er my aching sense,
"Pouring thy balm on my pierced heart, and healing
"Cold sorrow's wounds with ravishment intense;
"Fold still thy wings, and thus in light revealing
"Thine angel charms, flee ne'er away from hence."
Still on his name she call'd with swooning sighs,
And hands convulsive prest, and upturn'd eyes.

LXXV.

"It is my love," he said, "by death set free
"From cruel bonds that sever'd our true vows,
"Thus from the piteous tomb return'd to me,
"In white array with blossoms on her brows.
"Ah! blessed is love's immortality,
"That e'en the grave with softest charms endows;
"And blessed thou, mine own, alive or dead,
"That to this yearning heart once more hast fled.

LXXVI.

Entranced still he wander'd to the gate,
Where stood Alceste in sad weary plight,
Sore press'd with sentience of her hapless fate,
Weeping, nigh hopeless, in the pale moonlight.
Tarried he there in strange delicious strait,
Lapt in the wonder of his dreaming sight;
Then opening wide his arms in raptured prayer,
Her gentle spirit swoon'd and nestled there.