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A final portion from his Father's hand;
To some remote and solitary place,
Shady as night, and beautiful as heaven,
"You shall be baffled in your mad intent If there be justice in the Court of France," Muttered the Father. From these words the Youth Conceived a terror, and, by night or day, Stirred nowhere without weapons · that full soon Found dreadful provocation: for at night When to his chamber he retired, attempt Was made to seize him by three armed men, Acting, in furtherance of the Father's will, Under a private signet of the State. One, did the Youth's ungovernable hand Assault and slay; — and to a second, gave A perilous wound, he shuddered to behold The breathless corse; then peacefully resigned His person to the law, was lodged in prison, And wore the fetters of a criminal.
Have you beheld a tuft of winged seed That, from the dandelion's naked stalk, Mounted aloft, is suffered not to use Its natural gifts for purposes of rest, Driven by the autumnal whirlwind to and fro Through the wide element? or have you marked The heavier substance of a leaf-clad bough,
Within the vortex of a foaming flood,
For him, by private influence with the Court Was pardon gained, and liberty procured; But not without exaction of a pledge, Which liberty and love dispersed in air.
He flew to her from whom they would divide him
"One, are we not?" exclaimed the Maiden-"One
A portion of the Tale may well be left
Under privation and restraint; and what,
Doomed to a third and last captivity, His freedom he recovered on the eve Of Julia's travail.
When the babe was born,
Oft leaves a saving moisture at its root.
And if, amid those once-bright bowers, our fate!
And feed his countenance with your own sweet looks
Till no one can resist him. Now, even now,
I see him sporting on the sunny lawn;
My Father from the window sees him too;
That pillar is no longer to be thine,
So be it!
On the hill top. His eyes he scarcely took,
And under every hospitable tree
At which the Bearers halted or reposed,
Of suffering or of peace, I know not which:
From this time forth, he never shared a smile With mortal creature. An Inhabitant Of that same Town, in which the Pair had left So lively a remembrance of their griefs, By chance of business, coming within reach Of his retirement, to the forest lodge Repaired, but only found the Matron there, Who told him that his pains were thrown away, For that her Master never uttered word To living Thing not even to her. - Behold! While they were speaking, Vaudracour approached, But, seeing some one near, even as his hand Was stretched towards the garden gate, he shrunk – And, like a shadow, glided out of view. Shocked at his savage aspect, from the place The Visitor retired.
Thus lived the Youth
Nor could the voice of Freedom, which through France
Or personal memory of his own deep wrongs,
THE ARMENIAN LADY'S LOVE.
You have heard a Spanish Lady
How she wooed an English Man ;*
Daughter of the proud Soldàn;
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 taken of inscribing it to him, as an acknowledgment, however unworthy, of pleasure and instruction derived from his numerous and valuable writings, illustrative of the piety and chivalry of the olden time.]
"Pluck that rose, it moves my liking," Said she, lifting up her veil; "Pluck it for me, gentle Gardener, Ere it wither and grow pale." "Princess fair, I till the ground, but may not take From twig or bed an humbler flower, even for your sake."
"Grieved am I, submissive Christian! To behold thy captive state;
Women, in your land, may pity
(May they not?) the unfortunate." "Yes, kind Lady! otherwise Man could not bear Life, which to every one that breathes is full of care."
"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."
"Lady, dread the wish, nor venture
Think how it would stir against you
Sad deliverance would it be, and yoked with shame,
Hardships for the brave encountered,
"Generous Frank! the just in effort Are of inward peace secure;
My long-frozen heart grows warm!"
*See, in Percy's Reliques, that fine old ballad, "The Spanish Lady's Love;" from which Poem the form of stanza, as suitable What have I seen, and heard, or dreamt? where am to dialogue, is adopted.
Here broke off the dangerous converse:
Tears not wanting, nor a knell
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,
Judge both Fugitives with knowledge:
In those old romantic days
Mighty were the soul's commandments
Foes might hang upon their path, snakes rustle near,
Thought infirm ne'er came between them,
With accordant steps, or gathering
Or whispering like two reeds that in the cold moon-
Bend with the breeze their heads, beside a crystal stream.
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,
Mutual was the sudden transport;
Each word greedier than the last;
"Say that I, who might have languished,
For a crowning recompense, the precious grace
Of her who in my heart still holds her ancient place.
"Make it known that my Companion
Swiftly went that gray-haired Servant,
For a sunny thought to cheer the Stranger's way
Fancy (while, to banners floating
The devout embraces still, while such tears fell
Through a haze of human nature,
While across her virgin cheek pure blushes strayed,
On the ground the weeping Countess
Pledge of an eternal band:
Nor did aught of future days that kiss belie,
Constant to the fair Armenian,
Gentle pleasures round her moved,
Reverenced, like a Sister, loved.
Christian meekness smoothed for all the path of life,
Mute Memento of that union
In a Saxon Church survives,
Where a cross-legged Knight lies sculptured
LIST, ye who pass by Lyulph's Tower*
And holier seems the ground To him who catches on the gale The spirit of a mournful tale, Embodied in the sound.
Not far from that fair sight whereon
A stern-brow'd house appeared;
There set, and guarded well; Cage for a bird of plumage bright, Sweet-voiced, nor wishing for a flight Beyond her native dell.
To win this bright bird from her cage,
Full happy season, when was known, Ye Dales and Hills! to you alone Their mutual loyalty
Known chiefly, Aira! to thy glen,
Thy brook, and bowers of holly; Where Passion caught what Nature taught, That all but Love is folly;
Where Fact with Fancy stooped to play,
Doubt came not, nor regret;
To trouble hours that winged their way,
Whose sun could never set.
But in old times Love dwelt not long Sequester'd with repose;
Best throve the fire of chaste desire,. Fanned by the breath of foes. “A conquering lance is beauty's test, "And proves the Lover true;"
A pleasure-house built by the late Duke of Norfolk upon the banks of Ullswater. FORCE is the word used in the Lake District for Water-fall.
So spake Sir Eglamore, and pressed The drooping Emma to his breast, And looked a blind adieu.
They parted.-Well with him it fared
On woman's quiet hours;
Though faint, compared with spear and shield,
The solace beads and masses yield,
Yet blest was Emma when she heard
She warbled from full heart:
Hope wanes with her, while lustre fills
As if his orb, that owns no curb,
He comes not back; an ampler space
He ranges on from place to place,
His fame may spread, but in the past
Month falls on month with heavier weight:
In sleep she sometimes walked abroad,
But she is innocent of blood,
The moon is not more pure
That shines aloft, while through the wood She thrids her way, the sounding Flood
Her melancholy lure! 10