Before a crucifix; but sad and faint
The tone of her devotion, as the trill
Of a moss-burden’d melancholy rill.
And Julio stood before her;—’twas as yet
The hour of the pale twilight—and they met
Each other’s gaze, till either seem’d the hue
Of deepest crimson; but the ladye threw
Her veil above her features, and stole by
Like a bright cloud, with sadness and a sigh!
Yet Julio still stood gazing and alone,