Xxxix

Because indeed your face fits into just the cleft O' the heart of me, Elvire, makes right and whole once more All that was half itself without you! As before, My truant finds its place! Doubtlessly sea-shells yearn, If plundered by sad chance: would pray their pearls return, Let negligently slip away into the wave! Never may eyes desist, those eyes so gray and grave, From their slow sure supply of the effluent soul within! And, would you humor me? I dare to ask, unpin The web of that brown hair! O'erwash o' the sudden, but As promptly, too, disclose, on either side, the jut Of alabaster brow! So part rich rillets dyed Deep by the woodland leaf, when down they pour, each side O' the rock-top, pushed by Spring!