And Julio stood before her;--'twas as yet
The hour of the pale twilight--and they met
Each other's gaze, till either seem'd the hue
Of deepest crimson; but the ladye threw
Her veil above her features, and stole by
Like a bright cloud, with sadness and a sigh!

Yet Julio still stood gazing and alone,
A dreamer!--"Is the sister ladye gone?"
He started at the silence of the air
That slumber'd over him--she is not there.

And either slept not through the live-long night,
Or slept in fitful trances, with a bright,
Fair dream upon their eyelids: but they rose
In sorrow from the pallet of repose;
For the dark thought of their sad destiny
Came o'er them, like a chasm of the deep sea,
That was to rend their fortunes; and at eve
They met again, but, silent, took their leave,
As they did yesterday: another night,
And neither spake awhile--A pure delight
Had chasten'd love's first blushes: silently
Gazed Julio on the gentle Agathè--
At length, "Fair Nun!"--She started, and held fast
Her bright hand on her lip--"the past, the past,
And the pale future! There be some that lie
Under those marble urns--I know not why,
But I were better in that only calm,
Than be as I have been, perhaps, and am.