In harmony and beauty musical."

He is away--and still the sickly lamp
Is burning next the altar; there's a damp,
Thin mould upon the pavement; and, at morn,
The monks do cross them in their blessed scorn
And mutter deep anathemas, because
Of the unholy sacrilege, that was
Within the sainted chapel,--for they guess'd,
By many a vestige sad, how the dark rest
Of Agathè was broken,--and anon
They sought for Julio. The summer sun
Arose and and set, with his imperial disc
Toward the ocean-waters, heaving brisk
Before the winds,--but Julio came never:
He that was frantic as a foaming river--
Mad as the fall of leaves upon the tide
Of a great tempest, that have fought and died
Along the forest ramparts, and doth still
In its death-struggle desperately reel
Round with the fallen foliage--he was gone,
And none knew whither. Still were chanted on
Sad masses, by pale sisters, many a day,
And holy requiems sung for Agathè!




CHIMERA II