XXXII

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XXXII

Thus whispering, his warm, unnerved arm

Sank in her pillow. Shaded was her dream

By the dusk curtains:⁠—’twas a midnight charm

Impossible to melt as iced stream:

The lustrous salvers in the moonlight gleam;

Broad golden fringe upon the carpet lies:

It seem’d he never, never could redeem

From such a steadfast spell his lady’s eyes;

So mused awhile, entoil’d in woofed phantasies.