I felt his eyes were fixed upon me,
And a sweet, serious smile was on his lips:
Nor could I help but look and smile again.
I know not what it was went to and fro
Between us in that swift smile and glance.
We neither spoke;
But something went that thrilled me through and through.
And that quick clash of souls
Had struck a spark that set my soul on fire.
And I was happy, oh, so happy then!
It seemed as if this earth could never add
One little drop more to the joy I owned,
For all that passionate torrent pent within
My heart had found its utterance and response.
He was Venetian, and that radiant hair
We black-haired girls so covet haloed round
His sunny northern face and soft blue eyes.
I know not why he loved me--me, so black,
With this black skin that every Roman has,
With this black hair, black eyes, that I so hate.
Why loved he not Beata? she is fair,
But yet he often swore to me Beata's body
Was not worth one half my finger,
And then kissed me full upon the mouth as if to seal his oath;
Ah! glorious seal--I feel those lips there now!
And on my forehead, too, one kiss still glows
Like a great star.
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