That night there was a merry dance
At the chateau;
And ne'er more bright beamed beauty's glance
Or pleasure's flow.
All heedless moved those mirthful feet
To music's swell,
And sunny hearts all careless beat,
And peaceable,
As hope upon the earth did stream,
Without alloy,
And life were one enchanted dream
Of mirth and joy.
And stealing from the revel loud,
Into the air,
Far from the music and the crowd,
Where shadowy groves their steps enshroud,
Strolled many a pair,
And may they, what that hour they vowed,
Never forswear.
But one without companion roves,
Pensive and slow;
And none beholds, in those thick groves,
Her bosom's throe.
Hopes, feelings, strangely soft—intrude,
Unknown before,
And wandering to the distant wood,
Her thoughts, each beauteous solitude
Still, still explore.
And a bright form is ever near,
Where'er they stroll;
And a rich voice, as sweet and clear
As coming from a higher sphere,
Falls ever on her listening ear,
And on her soul.
She fixes now upon the sky
Her silent gaze,
And watches, with an envious sigh,
The peaceful stars pursue on high
Their quiet ways.
Her glances earthward now survey
The moonlight's stream,
Where, in th' enchanting landscape, lay
Soft memories of that sweet day,
As in a dream.
Oh! wherefore dost thou, from the throng,
So sadly glide?
And what dark shadow steals along,
Close at thy side?
Thou knowest not—thou dreamest not
Oh pure one! why
Beats with such warm unwonted thought
Thy heart so high.
But lo! thy hands in earnest prayer
Together join,
God save thee from the tempter's snare,
Oh Emiline!