Ah, there with wide snows round her like a pall,
OEnone crouch'd in sable robes; as still
As Winter brooding o'er the Summer's fall,
Or Niobe upon her haunted hill,
A woman changed to stone by grief, where chill
The rain-drops fall like tears, and the wind sighs:
And Paris deem'd he saw a deadly will
Unmoved in wild OEnone's frozen eyes.
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