1. 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, 

And never a flake 

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 

Astarté within the sky, 

While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye — 

While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye.