XLII.

And she to die!--she loved the laughing earth With such deep joy in its fresh leaves and flowers! Was not her smile even as the sudden birth Of a young rainbow, colouring vernal showers? Yes! but to meet her fawn-like step, to hear The gushes of wild song, so silvery clear, Which oft, unconsciously, in happier hours Flow’d from her lips, was to forget the sway Of Time and Death below, blight, shadow, dull decay!