Her Violin.

I     Her violin! - Again begin     The dream-notes of her violin;     And dim and fair, with gold-brown hair,     I seem to see her standing there,     Soft-eyed and sweetly slender:     The room again, with strain on strain,     Vibrates to LOVE's melodious pain,     As, sloping slow, is poised her bow,     While round her form the golden glow     Of sunset spills its splendour. II     Her violin! - now deep, now thin,     Again I hear her violin;     And, dream by dream, again I seem     To see the love-light's tender gleam     Beneath her eyes' long lashes:     While to my heart she seems a part     Of her pure song's inspird art;     And, as she plays, the rosy grays     Of twilight halo hair and face,     While sunset burns to ashes. III     O violin! - Cease, cease within     My soul, O haunting violin!     In vain, in vain, you bring again     Back from the past the blissful pain     Of all the love then spoken;     When on my breast, at happy rest,     A sunny while her head was pressed -     Peace, peace to these wild memories!     For, like my heart naught remedies,     Her violin lies broken.