First Evening. Part 7

The group that stood around to shade
The blushes of that bashful maid,
Had by degrees as came the lay
More strongly forth retired away,
Like a fair shell whose valves divide
To show the fairer pearl inside:
For such she was—a creature, bright
And delicate as those day-flowers,
Which while they last make up in light
And sweetness what they want in hours.

So rich upon the ear had grown
Her voice's melody—its tone
Gathering new courage as it found
An echo in each bosom round—
That, ere the nymph with downcast eye
Still on the chords, her lute laid by,
“Another song,” all lips exclaimed,
And each some matchless favorite named;
While blushing as her fingers ran
O'er the sweet chords she thus began:—
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