XXXIII.
She wept her tears full out, for on the day
That was to make her bride, the lids were bare;
And such cold sternness on her lips did stay,
It seemed as though a smile had ne'er been there.
They clad her graceful form in white array,
And twined sweet blossoms with her golden hair,
And made her lovely who must still be so
E'en 'mid despair, and tears, and cruel woe.