VI.

Then sunk the moon, and far away, Beside the bickering lake, the towers Of bandit braves shone tall and gray, Like specters in her lonely hours. And 'twixt the nodding grove and lake A glimmering fawn stalked thro' the night; And with full brow the musks did take, Then bowed to drink--she veiled her sight And moaning said, "Death is but life! The fawn 'mid lilies from the mere Sucks genial draughts to dull its thirsts; O fondest spirit, art thou near? Draw to thy soul this soul that bursts! The vivid lilies to the stars Clasp their white eyes and sink to sleep: O anguish, to thy burning wars Lock my sad heart and drag it deep!"-- Albeit she slept, she dreamed in grief.

BELTENEBROS AT MIRAFLORES.