TREACHERY.

Came a spicy smell of showers

On the purple wings of night,

And a pearl-encrusted crescent

On the lake looked still and white,

While a sound of distant singing

From the vales rose sad and light.

Dripped the musk of sodden roses

From their million heavy sprays,

And the nightingales were sobbing

Of the roses amorous praise

Where the raven down of even

Caught the moonlight's bleaching rays.

And the turrets of the palace,

From its belt of ancient trees,

On the mountain rose romantic

White as foam from troubled seas;

And the murmur of an ocean

Smote the chords of ev'ry breeze.

Where the moon shone on the terrace

And its fountain's lisping foam;

Where the bronzen urns of flowers

Breathed faint perfume thro’ the gloam,

By the alabaster Venus

‘ Neath the quiet stars we'd roam.

And we stopped beside the statue

Of the marble Venus there

Deeply pedestaled‘ mid roses,

Who their crimson hearts laid bare,

Breathing out their lives in fragrance

At her naked feet and fair.

And we marked the purple dingles

Where the lazy vapors lolled,

Like thin, fleecy ribs of moonlight

Touched with amethyst and gold;

And we marked the wild deer glimmer

Like dim specters where they strolled....

But from out those treach'rous roses

Crept a serpent and it stung,

Poisoned him who'd tuned my heart-strings

Till for him alone they sung,

Froze the nerves of hands that only

From its chords a note had wrung.

Now the nightingales in anguish

To cold, ashen roses moan;

Now a sound of desolate wailing

In the darkened palace lone

From a harp AEolian quavers

Broken on an empty throne.