And fire-flies, kindling up the leafy place,
Cast fitful radiance o’er the warrior’s face.
Whereby she caught its changes. To her eye,
The eye that faded look’d through gathering haze,
Whence love, o’ermastering mortal agony,
Lifted a long, deep, melancholy gaze,
When voice was not; that fond, sad meaning pass’d—
She knew the fulness of her woe at last!
One shriek the forests heard—and mute she lay
And cold, yet clasping still the precious clay