The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1869-11-09

Then spoke sweet voice close, ahl close to
him.
'Thou sleepest, Paris Would that could
sleepl
On the hillside do lay limb to limb,
And lie day-long watching the shadows creep
And change, till day is gone, and night is
Deep
Yet sleep not ever, wearied with the thought
Of all a little lapse of time has brought.
''Sleep, though thou calledst me yet mid
thy dream
Hearken the while tell about my life
The life ] led while mid the steely CLEAN
Thou vert made happy with the joyous strife;
Or in the soft arms of the Greek kings wife
Would still moan out that day had come too
soon,
Calling the dawn the glimmer of the moon.
''Wake not, wake not, before the tale is
told!
Not long to tell, the tale of those ten years
gnawing pain that never groweth old,
pain that shall not be washed out by tears
dreary road the weary foot-sole wears,
Knowing no rest, but going to and fro,
Treading it harder meath the weight of woe.
mo middle, no beginning, and no end;
No staying place, no thought of anything,
Bitter or sweet, with that one thought to
blend;
No least joy left that I away might fling
And deem myself grown great; no hope to
cling
About me, naught but dull, unresting pain,
That made all memory sick, all striving vain.
''Thou-hast thou thought thereof per-
chance anights
In early dawn, and shuddered, and then
said,
ALAS, poor soul! yet hath she had delights,
For none are wholly hapless but the dead.
Liarl o liar! my woe upon thine head,
My agony that naught can take away!
Awake, arise, traitor, unto day"
Her voice rose as she spoke, till loud and
shrill
1t rang about the place; but when at last
She ended, and the echoes from the hill,
Woful and Wild back DER the place were cast,
From her last love little way she passed
Trembling and looking round as if afeared
At those i'll sounds that through the morn she
heard.
Then she stood, her clenched hands slim
and white,
Relaxed, her drawn brow smoothed; with
great sigh
Her breast heaved, and she muttered, ''Ere
the light
OF yesterday had faded from the sky
1 knew that he would seek me certainly:
And knowing it, yet feigned 1 knew it not,
Or with what hope, what hope my heart was
hot.
He spake not; shame and other love then lay
Too heavy for him; but she spake again
Zen now, at the beginning of the day,
Weary with hope and fear and restless pain,
l said, Alas! 1 said, if all be vain
And he will have no pity, yet will I
Have pity; how shall kindness e'er pass by ?"
L. 81,
Upon the swathings of his wound; but she
Set her slim hand upon her knitted brow
And gazed on him with bright eyes eagerly;
Nor cruel looked her lips that once would be
So kind, SO longed for; neither spake awhile,
Till in her face there shone sweet strange
smile.
She touched him not but yet SO near she
came
That on his very face he felt her breath;
She whispered: "Speak - thou wilt not
speak for shame;
l will not grant for love, and grey-winged
Death
Meanwhile above our folly hovereth;
Speak was it not all false is it not done?
Is not the dream dreamed out, the dull night
gone?
'Hearkenest thou, Paris o, look kind on
me!
hope no more indeed, but couldst thou turn
h1Ru eyes 10 me, tnen mucn Tor me and thee
Might love do yet. Doth not the old fire
burn?
Doth not thine heart for words of old days
yearn
Canst thou not say, Alas, what wilt thou say,
Since have put by hope for many day?
''Paris, 1 hope no more, yet while ago
Take it not i'll if must needs say this
A while ago L cried, All no, no, no!
1t is no love at all, this love of his;
He loves her not; it was had the bliss
OF being the well-beloved dead is his love,
For surely none but his heart may move"
She wept still; but his eyes grew wild and
strange
With that last word, and harder his face grew,
Though her tear-blinded eyes saw not the
change.
Long beat about his heart false words and true,
A veil of strange thought he might not pierce
through,
OF hope he might not name, clung round
about
His wavering heart, perplexed with death and
doubt.
Then trembling did he speak-'I love thee
still,
Surely love thee" But dreadful pain
Shot throught his heart, and strange presage
AS, like the ceasing Of the summer rain,
Her tears stopped, and she drew aback again,
Silent moment, till bitter cry
Burst from her lips grown white with agony.
look of pity came across his face
Despite his pain and horror, and her eyes
Saw it, and changed, and for little space