"The breast that is filled with thine image alone,
May safely defy the dread tempest of steel;
For while all its thoughts are of love and of thee,
What peril of Self can it feel?"
He paused; and the silence that followed his words,
Was spread like a Hope, 'twixt a Dream and a Truth;
And in it, his fancy created a world
Wrought out of the dreams of his youth.
Then shadows crept over the beautiful face
Turned up to the sky in the pale streaming light,