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And if, amid those once-bright bowers, our fate On the hill top. His eyes he scarcely took,
Throughout that journey, from the vehicle
The tender Infant: and at every inn,
Laid him with timid care upon his knees,
And looked, as mothers ne'er were known to look, Startled, as if some new-created Thing
Upon the Nursling which his arms embraced. Enriched the earth, or Faery of the woods
– This was the manner in which Vaudracour Bounded before him;— but the unweeting Child Departed with his Infant; and thus reached Shall by his beauty win his Grandsire's heart His Father's house, where to the innocent Child So that it shall be softened, and our loves
Admittance was denied. The young Man spake End happily - as they began !" These gleams No words of indignation or reproof, Appeared but seldom; oftener was he seen
But of his Father begged, a last request, Propping a pale and melancholy face
That a retreat might be assigned to him Upon the Mother's bosom; resting thus
Where in forgotten quiet he might dwell, His head upon one breast, while from the other With such allowance as his wants required; The Babe was drawing in its quiet food.
For wishes he had none. To a Lodge that stood – That pillar is no longer to be thine,
Deep in a forest, with leave given, at the age Fond Youth! that mournful solace:now must pass Of four-and-twenty summers, he withdrew; Into the list of things that cannot be!
And thither took with him his infant Babe, Unwedded Julia, terror-smitten, hears
And one Domestic for their common needs, The sentence, by her Mother's lip pronounced, An aged Woman. It consoled him here That dooms her to a Convent. - Who shall tell, To attend upon the Orphan, and perform Who dares report, the tidings to the Lord
Obsequious service to the precious Child,
Which, after a short time, by some mistake
The Tale I follow to its last recess l'he word, by others dreaded, he can hear
Of suffering or of peace, I know not which: Composed and silent, without visible sign
Theirs be the blame who caused the woe, not mine! Of even the least emotion. Noting this, When the impatient Object of his love
From this time forth, he never shared a smile Upbraided him with slackness, he returned
With mortal creature. An Inhabitant No answer, only took the Mother's hand
Of that same Town, in which the Pair had left And kissed it — seemingly devoid of pain,
So lively a remembrance of their griefs, Or care, that what so tenderly he pressed,
By chance of business, coming within reach Was a dependant on the obdurate heart
Of his retirement, to the forest lodge Of One who came to disunite their lives
Repaired, but only found the Matron there, sad alternative! preferred,
Who told him that his pains were thrown away, By the unbending Parents of the Maid,
For that her Master never uttered word To secret 'spousals meanly disavowed.
To living Thing — not even to her. – Behold! - So be it!
While they were speaking, Vaudracour approached ;
But, seeing some one near, even as his hand
Was stretched towards the garden gate, he shrunk – A season after Julia had withdrawn
And, like a shadow, glided out of view. To those religious walls. He, too, departs —
Shocked at his savage aspect, from the place
The Visitor retired.
Thus lived the Youth
Cut off from all intelligence with man, In which the Pabe was carried. To a hill,
And shunning even the light of common day; That rose a brief lenguo distant from the town,
Nor could the voice of Freedom, which through France The Dwellers in that houso where he had lodged
Full speedily resounded, public hope, Accompanied his steps, by anxious love
Or personal memory of his own deep wrongs, Impelled, -- they parted from him there, and stood Rouse him: but in those solitary shades Watching below, till he hnd dimappeared
His days he wasted, an imbecile mind!
Should troubles overflow on her from whom it came."
Hardships for the brave encountered,
Even the feeblest may endure:
If Almighty Grace through me thy chains unbind, The subject of the following poem is from the Orlandus of My Father for slave's work may seek a slave in the author's friend, Kenelm Henry Digby; and the liberty is
mind." taken of inscribing it to him, as an acknowledgment, however
7. unworthy, of pleasure and instruction derived from his numemes and valuable writings, illustrative of the piely and chivalry
“Princess, at this burst of goodness, of the olden time.]
My long-frozen heart grows warm!”. * Yet you make all courage fruitless,
Me to save from chance of harm;
Leading such Companion I that gilded Dome,
Yon Minarets, would gladly leave for his worst home."
Feeling tunes your voice, fair Princess ! Be word, look, deed, with hope that he might love again.
And your brow is free from scorn,
Else these words would come like mockery, 2.
Sharper than the pointed thorn." “Pluck that rose, it moves my liking,"
“Whence the undeserved mistrust? Too wide apart Said she, lifting up her veil ;
Our faith hath been, - O would that eyes could see “ Pluck it for me, gentle Gardener,
the heart!" Ere it wither and grow pale.”
9. “Princess fair, I till the ground, but may not take From twig or bed an humbler Power, even for your
“Tempt me not, I pray; my doom is sake."
These base implements to wield;
Rusty Lance, I ne'er shall grasp thee, 3.
Ne'er assoil my cobwebb'd shield!
Never see my native land, nor castle towers,
Nor Her who thinking of me there counts widowed
hours." (May they not ?) the unfortunate." “Yes , kind Lady! otherwise Man could not bear
10. Life, which to every one that breathes is full of care." “Prisoner! pardon youthful fancies;
Wedded ? If you can, say no !4.
Blessed is and be your Consort;
Hopes I cherished — let them go!
Lady, is a mystery rare;
Make one being of a pair.”
Do I dare to thank the God,
Flower of an unchristian sod!
"Worse than idle is compassion,
If it end in tears and sighs;
And from vile indignities;
In such peril to engage;
Your most loving Father's rage:
6. “Generous Frank! the just in effort
Are of inward peace secure;
"See, in Percy's Reliques, that fine old ballad, “ The Spanish
en dialogue, u adopted
I! where ?"
20. Here broke off the dangerous converse :
“Make it known that my Companion
Is of royal Eastern blood,
Thirsting after all perfection,
Innocent, and meek, and good,
Will Holy Church disperse by beams of Gospel Light.”
Urged her steps; she shrunk from trust
Woman's birthright into dust.
Soon returned a trusty Page
Thanks and praises, each a gage
In those old romantic days
To support, restrain, or raise.
High on Stolberg's Castle walls,
Trumpets, Drums, and Atabals,)
Whether printing desert sands
Forest-fruit with social hands;
Glorified by heavenly light,
On that overpowering sight,
blushes strayed, For every tender sacrifice her heart had made.
They at length for Venice steer;
One, who daily on the Pier
Knelt, and kissed the Stranger's hand;
Pledge of an eternal band:
18. Mutual was the sudden transport;
Breathless questions followed fast,
Each word greedier than the last;
Gentle pleasures round her moved,
Reverenced, like a Sister, loved.
“Say that I, who might have languished,
Drooped and pined till life was spent,
My Deliverer would present
In a Saxon Church survives,
As between two wedded Wives -
While 'mid the fern-brake sleeps the doe,
And owls alone are waking,
The downward pathway taking,
And to a holly bower;
By thee, Sir Eglamore!
A wandering Ghost, so thinks the Knight,
His coming step has thwarted, Beneath the boughs that heard their vows,
Within whose shade they parted.
Perplexed her fingers seem,
Flung from her to the stream.
What means the Spectre ? Why intent
To violate the Tree,
To her I left, shall prove
Of valour, truth, and love.
In plunged the Knight! when on firm ground
The rescued Maiden lay,
Confusion passed away;
Her faithful Spirit flew,
She felt that he was true.
So was he reconciled to life:
Brief words may speak the rest ;
And there was Sorrow's guest;
From vain temptations free;
And awed to piety.
Wild stream of Aira, hold thy courso,
Nor fear memorial lays,
Are edged with golden rays !
Though minister of sorrow; Sweet is thy voice at pensive Even; And thou, in Lovers' hearts forgiven,
Shall take thy place with Yarrow!
THE IDIOT BOY.
So from the spot whereon he stood,
He moved with stealthy pace;
He recognised the face;
Some to the green-leaved tree,
“I heard, and so may he !"
'Tis eight o'clock,
- a clear March night,
- Why bustle thus about your door, What means this bustle, Betty Foy? Why are you in this mighty fret ? And why on horseback have you set Him whom you love, your Idiot Boy ?
Soul-shattered was the Knight, nor knew
If Emma's Ghost it were,
Her very self stood there.
The soft touch snapped the thread
Along its foaming bed.
There's scarce a soul that's out of bed;