But soft on my ear that word fell,
Soft as her accents of friendship,
Soft as a Sabbath eve bell.
And the dewdrops and spray of the river
On the garlands to crystals had turned,
The crown she embedded with snow-drops,
One jewel there glittered and burned.
Its luster was brilliant and sunlike,
As burnished as those in the throne,
But the name that her own gentle fingers