XXV

Full on this casement shone the wintry moon,

      And threw warm gules on Madeline's fair breast,

      As down she knelt for heaven's grace and boon;

      Rose-bloom fell on her hands, together prest,

      And on her silver cross soft amethyst,

      And on her hair a glory, like a saint:

      She seem'd a splendid angel, newly drest,

      Save wings, for heaven:—Porphyro grew faint;

She knelt, so pure a thing, so free from mortal taint.