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And if, amid those once-bright bowers, our fate On the hill top. His eyes he scarcely took,
Remain unpitied, pity is not in man.

Throughout that journey, from the vehicle
With ornaments — the prettiest, nature yields (Slow-moving ark of all his hopes !) that veiled
Or art can fashion, shall you deck our Boy,

The tender Infant: and at every inn,
And feed his countenance with your own sweet looks And under every hospitable tree
Till no one can resist him. — Now, even now, At which the Bearers halted or reposed,
I see him sporting on the sunny lawn;

Laid him with timid care upon his knees,
My Father from the window sees him too ;

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,
Of her affections? So they blindly asked

Which, after a short time, by some mistake
Who knew not to what quiet depths a weight Or indiscretion of the Father, died. —
Of agony had pressed the Sufferer down;-

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
In the city he remained

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
Who with him? even the senseless Little-one!

The Visitor retired.
With that sole Charge he passed the city-gates,
For the last time, attendant by the side

Thus lived the Youth
Of a close chair, a litter, or sedan,

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!

For ever

Should troubles overflow on her from whom it came."
letyLove;" from which Poem the form of stanza, as suitable What have I seen, and heard, or dreamt? where am

Hardships for the brave encountered,
THE ARMENIAN LADY'S LOVE.

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;
1.

Leading such Companion I that gilded Dome,
You have heard “a Spanish Lady

Yon Minarets, would gladly leave for his worst home."
How she wooed an English Man ;*
Hear now of a fair Armenian,

8.
Daughter of the proud Soldàn;
How she loved a Christian Slave, and told her pain

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!
"Grieved am I, submissive Christian!

Never see my native land, nor castle towers,
E:
To behold thy captive state;

Nor Her who thinking of me there counts widowed
Women, in your land, may pity

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!
Handmaid's privilege would leave my purpose free,
Without another link to my felicity.”

11.
“Wedded love with loyal Christians,

Lady, is a mystery rare;
Body, heart, and soul in union,

Make one being of a pair.”
“Humble love in me would look for no return,
Soft as a guiding star that cheers, but cannot burn."

12.
Gracious Allah! by such title

Do I dare to thank the God,
Him who thus exalts thy spirit,

Flower of an unchristian sod!
Or hast thou put off wings which thou in heaven dost

wear?

"Worse than idle is compassion,

If it end in tears and sighs;
Thee from bondage would I rescue

And from vile indignities;
Nurtured, as thy mien bespeaks, in high degree,
look up — and help a hand that longs to set thee free.”

5.
“ Lady, dread the wish, nor venture

In such peril to engage;
Think how it would stir against you

Your most loving Father's rage:
Sud deliverance would it be, and yoked with shame,

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 ?"

13.

20. Here broke off the dangerous converse :

“Make it known that my Companion
Less impassioned words might tell

Is of royal Eastern blood,
How the pair escaped together,

Thirsting after all perfection,
Tears not wanting, nor a knell

Innocent, and meek, and good,
Of sorrow in her heart while through her Father's door, Though with misbelievers bred; but that dark night
And from her narrow world, she passed for evermore.

Will Holy Church disperse by beams of Gospel Light.”

14.
But affections higher, holier,

Urged her steps; she shrunk from trust
In a sensual creed that trampled

Woman's birthright into dust.
Little be the wonder then, the blame be none,
If she, a timid Maid, hath put such boldness on.

21.
Swiftly went that gray-haired Servant,

Soon returned a trusty Page
Charged with greetings, benedictions,

Thanks and praises, each a gage
For a sunny thought to cheer the Stranger's way,
Her virtuous scruples to remove, her fears allay.

15.
Judge both Fugitives with knowledge :

In those old romantic days
Mighty were the soul's commandments

To support, restrain, or raise.
Foes might hang upon their path, snakes rustle near,
But nothing from their inward selves had they to fear.

22.
Fancy (while, to banners floating

High on Stolberg's Castle walls,
Deafening noise of welcome mounted,

Trumpets, Drums, and Atabals,)
The devout embraces still, while such tears fell
As made a meeting seem most like a dear farewell

.

16.
Thought infirm ne'er came between them,

Whether printing desert sands
With accordant steps, or gathering

Forest-fruit with social hands;
Or whispering like two reeds that in the cold moon-

beam
Bend with the breeze their heads, beside a crystal

stream.

23.
Through a haze of human nature,

Glorified by heavenly light,
Looked the beautiful Deliverer

On that overpowering sight,
While across her virgin cheek pure

blushes strayed, For every tender sacrifice her heart had made.

17.
On a friendly deck reposing,

They at length for Venice steer;
There, when they had closed their voyage,

One, who daily on the Pier
Watched for tidings from ine East, beheld his Lord,
Fell down and clasped his knees for joy, not uttering

word.

24.
On the ground the weeping Countess

Knelt, and kissed the Stranger's hand;
Act of soul-devoted homage,

Pledge of an eternal band:
Nor did aught of future days that kiss belie,
Which, with a generous shout, the crowd did ratify.

18. Mutual was the sudden transport;

Breathless questions followed fast,
Years contracting to a moment,

Each word greedier than the last;
Hie thee to the Countess, Friend ! return with speed,
And of this Stranger speak by whom her Lord was freed.

25.
Constant to the fair Armenian,

Gentle pleasures round her moved,
Like a tutelary Spirit

Reverenced, like a Sister, loved.
Christian meekness smoothed for all the path of life,
Who, loving most, should wiseliest love, their only

66

strife,

“Say that I, who might have languished,

Drooped and pined till life was spent,
Now before the gates of Stolberg

My Deliverer would present
For a crowning recompense, the precious grace
Of her who in my heart still holds her ancient place.

26.
Mute Memento of that union

In a Saxon Church survives,
Where a cross-legged Knight lies sculptured

As between two wedded Wives -
Figures with armorial signs of race and birth,
And the vain rank the Pilgrims bore while yet on

earth.

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11.

While 'mid the fern-brake sleeps the doe,

And owls alone are waking,
In white arrayed, glides on the Maid

The downward pathway taking,
That leads her to the torrent's side

And to a holly bower;
By whom on this still night descried ?
By whom in that lone place espied ?

By thee, Sir Eglamore!

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12.

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A wandering Ghost, so thinks the Knight,

His coming step has thwarted, Beneath the boughs that heard their vows,

Within whose shade they parted.
Hush, hush, the busy Sleeper see !

Perplexed her fingers seem,
As if they from the holly tree
Green twigs would pluck, as rapidly

Flung from her to the stream.

13.

What means the Spectre ? Why intent

To violate the Tree,
Thought Eglamore, by which I swore

Unfading constancy?
Here am I, and to-morrow's sun,

To her I left, shall prove
That bliss is ne'er so surely won
As when a circuit has been run

Of valour, truth, and love.

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16.

In plunged the Knight! when on firm ground

The rescued Maiden lay,
Her eyes grew bright with blissful light,

Confusion passed away;
She heard, ere to the throne of grace

Her faithful Spirit flew,
His voice; beheld his speaking face,
And, dying, from his own embrace,

She felt that he was true.

17.

So was he reconciled to life:

Brief words may speak the rest ;
Within the dell he built a cell,

And there was Sorrow's guest;
In hermits' weeds repose he found,

From vain temptations free;
Beside the torrent dwelling — bound
By one deep heart-controlling sound,

And awed to piety.

18.

Wild stream of Aira, hold thy courso,

Nor fear memorial lays,
Where clouds that spread in solemn shade,

Are edged with golden rays !
Dear art thou to the light of Heaven,

Though minister of sorrow; Sweet is thy voice at pensive Even; And thou, in Lovers' hearts forgiven,

Shall take thy place with Yarrow!

14.

THE IDIOT BOY.

So from the spot whereon he stood,

He moved with stealthy pace;
And, drawing nigh, with his living eye,

He recognised the face;
And whispers caught, and speeches small,

Some to the green-leaved tree,
Some muttered to the torrent fall, -
“ Roar on, and bring him with thy call;

“I heard, and so may he !"

'Tis eight o'clock,

- a clear March night,
The Moon is up, - the Sky is blue,
The Owlet, in the moonlight air,
Shouts, from nobody knows where ;
He lengthens out his lonely shout,
Halloo! halloo! a long halloo !

15.

- 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,
Or boding Shade, or if the Maid

Her very self stood there.
He touched, what followed who shall tell ?

The soft touch snapped the thread
Of slumber — shrieking back she fell,
And the Stream whirled her down the dell

Along its foaming bed.

There's scarce a soul that's out of bed;
Good Betty, put him down again;
His lips with joy they burr at you;
But, Betty! what has he to do
With stirrup, saddle, or with rein?

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