XLII.

Alas! and life hath moments when a glance-- (If thought to sudden watchfulness be stirr’d)-- A flush--a fading of the cheek, perchance-- A word--less, less--the _cadence_ of a word, Lets in our gaze the mind’s dim veil beneath, Thence to bring haply knowledge fraught with death! Even thus, what never from thy lip was heard Broke on my soul. I knew that in thy sight I stood, howe’er beloved, a recreant from the light.