Making bright that ruined place
With a white effulgence—then
Passed, and all was dark again.
WOMAN'S PORTION
I
The leaves are shivering on the thorn,
Drearily;
And sighing wakes the sad-eyed morn,
Making bright that ruined place
With a white effulgence—then
Passed, and all was dark again.
I
The leaves are shivering on the thorn,
Drearily;
And sighing wakes the sad-eyed morn,