No blushes dye thy cheek of Phidian mould —
No thoughts of love disturb thy dreamless rest;
Alas! thou’rt cold!
The flashes of thy deep and changeful eye,
The music from thy lips that trembling rolled,
The burning thoughts that rapt my soul on high;
These seemed not cold.
But rubies with a crimson lustre gleam;
Diamonds within them seem a fire to hold;
And the dank forest breathes its wand’ring flame: —