Claudia's Woe

Ay, lady, here alone
You may think till your heart is broken,
Of the love that is dead and done,
Of the days that with no token,
For evermore are gone.

Weep, if you can, beseech you!
There's no one by to curb you:
His heart cry cannot reach you:
His love will not disturb you:
Weep?--what can weeping teach you?

--Meredith.

Sifting within the recess of the dormer window, soothed by the gathering
darkness of the quiet, starlight night, and by the gentle cadences of
Bee's low, melodious voice, as she sung her baby sister to sleep,
Ishmael remained some little time longer, when suddenly Bee's song
ceased, and he heard her exclamation of surprise: "Claudia, you up here! and already dressed for dinner! How well you
look! How rich that maize-colored brocade is! And how elegant that spray
of diamonds in your hair! I never saw you wear it before! Is it a new
purchase?"

"It is the viscount's present. I wear it this evening in his honor."

"How handsome you are, Lady Vincent! You know I do not often flatter,
but really, Claudia, all the artist in me delights to contemplate you. I
never saw you with such brilliant eyes, or such a beautiful color."

"Brilliant eyes! beautiful color! Ha! ha! ha! the first frenzy, I think!
The last--well, it ought to be beautiful. I paid ten dollars a scruple
for it at a wicked French shop in Broadway! And I have used the scruple
unscrupulously!" she cried, with a bitter laugh as of self-scorn.