In eager converse clustered; till, at last,
They parted, and, with high hopes beating fast,
Christine unto her turret-room returned--
Her dark eyes bright and all her face aglow,
As if some new-lit rapture in her burned.
About her little chamber swift she moved,
Until, at length, in travelling array,
She paused to rest, and all-impatient lay
Upon her snow-white bed, and watched the light
Fail from the lilied arras that she loved