Poems / Eloise A. Bibb [electronic text]

[I.]

'Twas eve in sunny Italy;The world was bright as earth can be,In that delightful month of June,When sun, and birds, and leaves, and flowers,And e'en the queen of night,—the moon,Make earth one of fair Eden's bowers.The wind was singing to the sea,A soft and plaintive symphony.

The shadows of this placid eve,To Count Villani's loggia cleave,Where guests of wealth and noble birthAwait,—with eyes more eager growing, As darkness hides the views of earth,And stars begin their silver showing,The entrance of the lovely bride,Ninna Maso,—Viilani's pride.

An hour or more they've waited now,Anxiety is on each brow.A sudden fear of coming woeLike weights upon their hearts are falling.They'd give a goodly price to knowWhat unforeseen event is calling

The bride who weds Count Villani,The richest man in Italy.

And now the gossip tongues beginTo tell, in spite of outside din,How Count Villani old and gray,From poverty and want rescuingThe girl whom he will wed to-day.And then their fears again renewing,Their talk is of a serious strain,Some fear to longer there remain.

But hold! a shriek, a piercing cry,A woman's scream is heard near by;And guests involuntary start,And move to where the sound's proceeding,—That sound that seems to rend the heart.They look and see the bride receding.From yonder spacious balcony,And hear her wailing mournfully.

In trailing robes of pearly white,With loosened curls—a sunny sight,The graceful form in flowers arrayed,As if in maddest haste pursuingSome fallen Peri; this lovely maid

Madly sped on, her speed renewing.What is her fate—her history?Who will explain this mystery?