"Look not imploringly, nor falter,
But robe thee for the Bridal Altar !
Ere morning fling her portals wide
Thou shalt be LEONARDO's Bride-
Then we shall see if LEON call,
And tread unbid my Castle hall—
If LEONARDO, thy Betrothed,

Be doomed to meet this rival, loathed,

Descending from his Lady's tower
At such unseasonable hour!"

"Oh! be not angry with me, sire,
I know no law but thy desire,
No happiness apart from thine.
To-morrow, ere Saint Peter's spires
The Day-god gild with golden fires,

To LEONARDO, at the shrine,

This willing hand I will resign.

Then pardon, sire, this luckless greeting, This last and most unhappy meeting

Between me and GUDONI's son

We'll meet no more as we have done,
Perchance, no more beneath the sun-
To Sicily he's gone to dwell,
And only came to say, farewell,
Leaving his compliments for thee --
The noblest lord in Italy."

"Come to my bosom, fairest flower,

That buds and blooms in Tiber's bower !

Thy loveliness disarms mine ire,

And leaves me only one desire,

Which is to see my FLORENCE blessed!"
Old UGo said, and closely pressed

His erring daughter to his breast--
"Poor LEONARDO's ill at rest-
Hear! hear him pace the corridor,
Thy seeming falsehood grieves him sore
Bringing, to-night, the minstrel here
With Bridal songs to charm thine ear,
He met Lord LEON on the strand,

And to the heart had stabbed the Viper,
Had not the hoary-bearded Piper

Flung down his harp, and stayed his hand.
Ho! LEONARDO! hither come,
Doff-doff for evermore thy gloom;

From all the lords of Italy,

Fair FLORENCE has selected thee

To lead her to the nuptial shrine,

Which thou wilt do to-morrow at nine--

Again I place her hand in thine-

Again invoke the saints divine-

Now let us leave our lovely Idol

To slumber and to thoughts of early bridal."

"Pardon me!" LEONARDO sighed, "If I address my blushing Bride— Of all the lords in Italy,

Young LEON is most fascinating-Perchance the worthiest to be " "O LEONARDO! cease debating

The question which it is my pride In thy dear favor to decide;

There's not another in the land

So worthy of this willing hand,"
Lifting it to his lips, she said—
"One whom I would so proudly wed."

“ Beautiful! beatific blossom!

Come to this reverential bosom !

While through it ebbs one crimson billow
Thy head shall have no other pillow!
But heart to heart, and hand in hand,

As now in blessed embrace we stand,

In Hymen's consecrated bowers,
We'll dream away the rosy hours,
Or down the streams of Beauty rove,
Teaching the Angels how to love,
And lighting all the lonely places
With love-illuminated faces!"

Thus ardently the bridegroom sighed,
Embraced his blooming, blushing Bride,
And then elate with hope, desire,
Departed with her hoary sire.

III.

"The saints be thanked! I am alone!"

She sighed in stifled undertone-

And from her finger flung the ring

As snake whose fangs envenomed tore her, Touched for her trusty page a spring,

Who, in an instant stood before her. Thrice up and down the room she flew, Then from her belt a dagger drew,

And fixed, and fierce, as she-wolf gazed

Into his eyes, with terror glazed-

"Art thou afraid of blood!" she said-

"Thou need'st not speak, thy thoughts I've read--Muffle thy feet--fly--plunge this dart

Deep into LEONARDO's heart!

Nor leave a witness of the deed,

Or for the act thou too shalt bleed!"

IV.

The page departed--and returned

With crimson spots upon his soul,

That eating down into it burned,
As secret flames into a scroll.

"Hast thou complied with my commands?" ""Tis done, my Lady, thoroughly !”

"Is there no blood upon thy hands!

To fix the crimson deed on thee?

Where did'st thou leave that friendly dart?" "Buried in LEONARDO's heart,

Lady!"

(6 'It is his own stiletto--one

He gave to me 'tis known to none
Upon this evidence, if there's

No stain upon thee, nor the stairs,

The astute jury will decide

That it is but a suicide,

Upon the dead will fix the crime,

And send the case to Heaven for trial

"Tis four o'clock by yonder dial--
Go, tell my maids that it is time

To robe me for the nuptial shrine--
The Wedding is to be at Nine."

V.

Promptly the anxious maids attend,
And o'er their youthful mistress bend.