VII. << I was a goodly stripling then; « At seventy years I so may say, « That there were few, or boys or men, « Of vassal or of knight's degree, Could vie in vanities with me; «For I had strength, youth, gaiety, «A port, not like to this ye see, ་ But smooth, as all is rugged now; For time, and care, and war, have plough'd And thus I should be disavow'd By all my kind and kin, could they « This change was wrought, too, long ere age << Had ta'en my features for his page: « With years, ye know, have not declined My strength, my courage, or my mind, «Or at this hour I should not be Telling old tales beneath a tree, « With starless skies my canopy. « Such as our Turkish neighbourhood « ་ But through it stole a tender light, « Like the first moonrise at midnight; Large, dark, and swimming in the stream, Which seem'd to melt to its own beam; « All love, half languor, and half fire, «Like saints that at the stake expire, "And lift their raptured looks on high, As though it were a joy to die. " A brow like a midsummer lake, Transparent with the sun therein, « When waves no murmur dare to make, VIII. past, « We met-we gazed-I saw, and sigh'd, Which strike from out the heart o'erwrought, «And form a strange intelligence, « Alike mysterious and intense, Which link the burning chain that binds, « Without their will, young hearts and minds; Conveying, as the electric wire, « We know not how, the absorbing fire. I saw, and sigh'd—in silence wept, «And still reluctant distance kept, « Until I was made known to her, ་་ Wherewith we while the day; away "It is—I have forgot the name « And we to this, it seems, were set, By some strange chance, which I forget: << I reck'd not if I won or lost, « It was enough for me to be << So near to hear, and oh! to see k I watch'd her as a sentinel, (May ours this dark night watch as well!) « Until I saw, and thus it was, « That she was pensive, nor perceived « Her occupation, nor was grieved ་་ Nor glad to lose or gain; but still Play'd on for hours, as if her will «Yet bound her to the place, though not << That hers might be the winning lot. « Then through my brain the thought did pass « Even as a flash of lightning there, « That there was something in her air « Which would not doom me to despair; << And on the thought my words broke forth, « All incoherent as they were « Their cloquence was little worth, But yet she listen'd-'tis enough« Who listens once will listen twice; « Her heart, be sure, is not of ice, "I loved, and was beloved again- " I shorten all my joy or pain, « To you 'twould seem absurd as vain ; ་ I am—or rather was—a prince, « A chief of thousands, and could lead « Them on where each would foremost bleed; ་་ « But could not o'er myself evince << The like control-But to resume: I loved, and was beloved again; << In sooth, it is a happy doom, « But yet where happiest ends in pain.— « We met in secret, and the hour ་ Which led me to that lady's bower My days and nights were nothing-all And had no other gem nor wealth << Save nature's gift of youth and health. "We met in secret-doubly sweet, ་་ Some say, they find it so to meet; I know not that-I would have given My life but to have call'd her mine «In the full view of earth and heaven; « For I did oft and long repine << That we could only meet by stealth. X. «For lovers there are many eyes, Surprised and seized us both. << The Count was something more than wroth"I was unarm'd; but if in steel, « All cap-a-pie from head to heel, « What 'gainst their numbers could I do?— " My moments seem'd reduced to few; «And with one prayer to Mary Mother, |