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mesmerism.
XVIII.
Among her flowers,—they slept 'mid dew and balm,
Nature's deep heart was still—
Our triple shadow blent with the soft calm
An element of ill.
From some dim cloud, as we went past,
Large sudden drops were o'er them cast.
Nature's deep heart was still—
Our triple shadow blent with the soft calm
An element of ill.
From some dim cloud, as we went past,
Large sudden drops were o'er them cast.
XIX.
Beside our lake, which 'neath its cedars slept
(I tell thee 'twas no dream),
A lurid ripple o'er its surface crept,
A wan phosphoric gleam,
And through the gleam an upturned face
Of mocking menace I could trace!
(I tell thee 'twas no dream),
A lurid ripple o'er its surface crept,
A wan phosphoric gleam,
And through the gleam an upturned face
Of mocking menace I could trace!
XX.
Through the oak wood its branches closed and spread
Between us and the sky—
But on, still on, he never turned his head,
Nor spoke, and she, led by
Blind instinct, her own footsteps laid
In every footprint his had made!
Between us and the sky—
But on, still on, he never turned his head,
Nor spoke, and she, led by
Blind instinct, her own footsteps laid
In every footprint his had made!
