MARIANA IN THE SOUTH. I. WITH One black shadow at its feet, The house through all the level shines, Close-latticed to the brooding heat, And silent in its dusty vines: But "Ave Mary," made she moan, II. She, as her carol sadder grew, From brow and bosom slowly down Through rosy taper fingers drew Her streaming curls of deepest brown To left and right, and made appear, III. Till all the crimson changed, and past Low on her knees herself she cast, Before Our Lady murmured she; "Is this the form,” she made her moan, 6 IV. Nor bird would sing, nor lamb would bleat, And seemed knee-deep in mountain grass, She breathed in sleep a lower moan, V. Dreaming, she knew it was a dream : Fell, and without the steady glare She whispered, with a stifled moan VI. And, rising, from her bosom drew Old letters, breathing of her worth, For "Love," they said, "must needs be true, “O cruel heart,” she changed her tone, Is this the end to be left alone, To live forgotten, and die forlorn!" VII. But sometimes in the falling day An image seemed to pass the door, To look into her eyes and say, "But thou shalt be alone no more." And flaming downward over all And slowly rounded to the east "The day to night," she made her moan, "The day to night, the night to morn, And day and night I am left alone, To live forgotten, and love forlorn." VIII. At eve a dry cicala sung, There came a sound as of the sea; Backward the lattice-blind she flung, And leaned upon the balcony. There all in spaces rosy-bright Large Hesper glittered on her tears, And weeping then she made her moan, "The night comes on that knows not mo When I shall cease to be all alone, To live forgotten, and love forlorn." |