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With a murmurous stir uncertain, in the air,

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Said he, "Vision of a lady! stand there

silent, stand there steady!

Now I see it plainly, plainly; now I cannot

hope or doubt;

There, the brows of mild repression; there,

the lips of silent passion,

Curved like an archer's bow to send the

bitter arrows out."

Ever, evermore the while in a slow silence

she kept smiling,

And approached him slowly, slowly, in a

gliding measured pace;

With her two white hands extended, as if

praying one offended,

And a look of supplication, gazing earnest

in his face.

Said he, "Wake me by no gesture, sound

of breath, or stir of vesture;

Let the blessed apparition melt not yet to

its divine!

No approaching, -hush! no breathing! or

my heart must swoon to death in

That too utter life thou bringest, O thou

dream of Geraldine!"

Ever, evermore the while in a slow silence

she kept smiling,

But the tears ran over lightly from her eyes,

and tenderly;

"Dost thou, Bertram, truly love me? Is

no woman far above me

Found more worthy of thy poet-heart than

such a one as I?"

Said he, "I would dream so ever, like the

flowing of that river,

Flowing ever in a shadow greenly onward

to the sea;

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