Parerga/Lines from De Lamartine

Immobile, il contemple, au chevet de ce lit,
Une femme qui dort, et qu'un songe embellit.
&c. &c.

Still that couch he watches by,
Motionless and silently.
He looks on one, who sleeps and seems
Even lovelier mid her dreams.―
In the features and the grace
Of that youthful slumberer's face
All that's Angelic seems to be,
Except Angelic purity.―
Now her eyes conceal their flashes
'Neath the veils of their long lashes,
Yet their troubles may be seen;
Yet a fold her brows between
Tells that evil days have past,
Evil shades been o'er her cast.
Though her lips with love are warm,
Theirs is but a heartless charm,
Which the feeling shocks and freezes,
Even while the sense it pleases.
They betray the curves of care.
But her cheek is soft and fair,
Like the lily's languid lustre
When the breezes warmly play,
And the drooping flowrets cluster,
Faint beneath the summer ray.