Sybilla

In the proud mansion on the city street,
Strewed with the loans of luxury, that Time
Wafts down o'erpowering from the burdened Past—
Homeless and hopeless in those cruel walls
Sybilla went—her heart long since bereaved.
She heard the footfalls sear the crowded streets,—
Her fatal birthright,—where no human pulse
To hers was beating; there she shunned the day!

Tall churches and rich houses draped in flowers,
And lovely maids tricked out with pearls and gold,
Barbaric pomp! and crafty usurers bent—
All passed she by, the terror in her soul;
Then sped she on her flight—a reindeer-course.
Day's dying light painted the quiet fields,
The pale green sky reflected in their pools,—
A soft, clear light,—and in that heaven afar
O'er emerald waters glowed the evening star.
Oh, why was Earth so fair? was love so fond
Ever consumed within its ring of fire?
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