He durst not break the vow—he durst not be
The one he would—and his heart’s harmony
Became a tide of sorrow. Even so,
He felt hope die—in madness and in wo!
But there came one—and a most lovely one
As ever to the warm light of the sun
Threw back her tresses—a fair sister girl,
With a brow changing between snow and pearl;
And the blue eyes of sadness, filled with dew
Of tears—like Heaven’s own melancholy blue—