While ever and anon a passing breath,
More eager than its fellow, rippled up
The curls that gathered on his glorious brow.
Like one whose spirit-form was not of Earth
He seemed that hour, for o’er him halos hung,
Such only as the vales of Paradise
Enclose around the beings of their birth.
And as he gazed upon the star-lit hall,
And then with straining sight looked on the sky,
As if to catch from it some angel glance,