There stole a footstep, fleet, and light, and lone,
Thro' the dim cedar shade; the step of one
That started at a leaf, of one that fled,

Of one that panted with some secret dread :—
What did Imelda there? She sought the scene
Where love so late with youth and hope had been;
Bodings were on her soul—a shuddering thrill
Ran thro' each vein, when first the Naiad's rill
Met her with melody-sweet sounds and low;

We hear them yet, they live along its flow-

Her voice is music lost! The fountain-side

She gain'd-the wave flash'd forth--'twas darkly dyed

Ev'n as from warrior-hearts; and on its edge,

Amidst the fern, and flowers, and moss-tufts deep, There lay, as lull'd by stream and rustling sedge,

A youth, a graceful youth. "Oh! dost thou sleep? Azzo!" she cried, "my Azzo! is this rest?" But then her low tones falter'd :-" On thy breast

Is the stain,--yes, 'tis blood !—and that cold cheek--That moveless lip!-thou dost not slumber ?-speak, Speak, Azzo, my belov'd!-no sound-no breathWhat hath come thus between our spirits ?-Death! Death ?--I but dream-I dream!"--and there she

stood,

A faint, frail trembler, gazing first on blood,
With her fair arm around yon cypress thrown,
Her form sustain'd by that dark stem alone,
And fading fast, like spell-struck maid of old,

Into white waves dissolving, clear and cold;

When from the grass her dimm'd eye caught a

gleam

'Twas where a sword lay shiver'd by the stream,-
Her brother's sword!--she knew it; and she knew
'Twas with a venom'd point that weapon slew!
Wo for young love! But love is strong.

came

Strength upon woman's fragile heart and frame,

There

There came swift courage! On the dewy ground
She knelt, with all her dark hair floating round,
Like a long silken stole; she knelt, and press'd
Her lips of glowing life to Azzo's breast,
Drawing the poison forth. A strange, sad sight!
Pale death, and fearless love, and solemn night !——
So the moon saw them last.

The morn came singing

Thro' the

green

forests of the Appenines,

With all her joyous birds their free flight winging,

And steps and voices out among the vines.

What found that day-spring here? Two fair forms

laid

Like sculptured sleepers; from the myrtle shade

Casting a gleam of beauty o'er the wave,

Still, mournful, sweet. Were such things for the

grave?

Could it be so indeed? That radiant girl,

Deck'd as for bridal hours !--long braids of pearl

Amidst her shadowy locks were faintly shining,

As tears might shine, with melancholy light;
And there was gold her slender waist entwining;
And her pale graceful arms-how sadly bright!
And fiery gems upon her breast were lying,
And round her marble brow red roses dying.-
But she died first!-the violet's hue had spread
O'er her sweet eyelids with repose oppress'd,
She had bow'd heavily her gentle head,

And, on the youth's hush'd bosom, sunk to rest.
So slept they well!-the poison's work was done;
Love with true heart had striven-but Death had won.