Eulalie
I
dwelt
alone
In
a
world
of
moan,
And
my
soul
was
a
stagnant
tide,
Till
the
fair
and
gentle
Eulalie
became
my
blushing
bride-
Till
the
yellow-haired
young
Eulalie
became
my
smiling
bride.
Ah,
less-
less
bright
The
stars
of
the
night
Than
the
eyes
of
the
radiant
girl!
That
the
vapor
can
make
With
the
moon-tints
of
purple
and
pearl,
Can
vie
with
the
modest
Eulalie's
most
unregarded
curl-
Can
compare
with
the
bright-eyed
Eulalie's
most
humble
and
careless
curl.
Now
Doubt-
now
Pain
Come
never
again,
For
her
soul
gives
me
sigh
for
sigh,
And
all
day
long
Shines,
bright
and
strong,
Astarte
within
the
sky,
While
ever
to
her
dear
Eulalie
upturns
her
matron
eye-
While
ever
to
her
young
Eulalie
upturns
her
violet
eye.
