&o gt. 79 
still continued to sit, as if unconscious of the savage 
solitude which surrounded her; nor did she notice the 
back-kneed Satyrs, that peered upon her unrobed love¬ 
liness with burning eyes, from many a shadowy recess 
in the thick-leaved underwood. Upon the trunks of the 
mighty and storm-tortured trees, the sunset here and 
there flashed down in rays of molten gold, making 
their gnarled and twisted stems look as if they had 
just issued red-hot from the jaws of some cavern-like 
furnace, whose glare the fancy might still trace in a 
blackened avenue of trees, up which the red ranks of 
the consuming lightning had ages agone marched. 
Every way, where the lengthened shadows of evening 
began to fall in deeper masses, the forest assumed a 
more savage look, which was heightened by the noise 
of some deadly-tusked boar, as he went snorting and 
thundering through the thicket; the growl of the 
tiger was also heard at intervals, as he retreated far¬ 
ther into the deepening darkness of the dingles, mis¬ 
taking the blazing sunset for some devouring fire. But 
the eyes of Yenus saw only the pale face of her lover, 
—she felt only his chilly and stiffened hand sink colder 
and deeper into the warm heart on which she pressed 
it, and over which her tears fell, slower or faster, just 
as the mournful gusts of her sorrow arose or subsided, 
and sent the blinding rain from the blue-veined lids 
that overhung her clouded eyes; for never had her 
immortal heart before been swollen by such an over¬ 
flowing torrent of grief. But the warmth of her kisses, 
which would almost have awakened life in a statue of 
marble, fell upon lips now cold as a wintry grave; 
and her sighs, which came sweeter than the morning 
