On flying forms beneath soft splendour flung;
But loveliest far amidst the revel’s pride
Was one—the lady from the Danube side.[351]
Pauline, the meekly bright! though now no more
Her clear eye flash’d with youth’s all-tameless glee,
Yet something holier than its dayspring wore,
There in soft rest lay beautiful to see;
A charm with graver, tenderer, sweetness fraught—
The blending of deep love and matron thought.
Through the gay throng she moved, serenely fair,