X
And he gazed at her strangely; and, sobbing,
Cried out, "Yea; thy harp!—is it strung?
Thy harp of wild gold, is it strung?
With fingers of silver set throbbing
Its chords with that song thou hast sung,
So oft in my dreams thou hast sung."
XI
Then he ceased:—and his eyes—how they glistened!
His eyes, that were haunted with pain,