For me's no clemency divine! I had a dream-a troubled dream- In her white nuptial robes arrayed ; I saw her at the altar stand I saw thee take her lily hand- And overwhelm my soul in woe ; And what betideth let me know." She said, and in her wildered state, Flew through the corridor's dim gloom, And strove her torturing doubts to quell ; But easier 'tis the waves to still That roll amid the stormy ocean, Than subjugate unto the will The troubled bosom's wild commotion ;- By dress so richly now displayed, Unto a secret casket went, A little packet thence withdrew— Love's tokens dear while they were true- Quickly the snowy scrolls undid ; Betrothal ring-chains, diamonds, pearls A locket with her LEON's curls, His miniature serenely put Upon the medley fated pyre; Stamped it with her indignant foot And strength of slighted love's keen ire. Then to the pile the torch applied, And round them while the swift flames glide, Melting the chains to livid thread; With low, unfaltering voice she said “ "O LEON! I could see thy soul Writhe in thy frame, girt round by fire, Calmly as I behold each scroll, Beneath that fatal flame expire : " Then sank upon the ottoman, And watched the blaze as on it ran; IV. "But list!-my page!-be still my heart!— To feign is now thy only part. What do I fear? Why tremble so? He'll only tell what now I know— I knew not why, but as he sung, Of some approaching misery. Of tempest midst the forest lone : But all too vain-such pondering! I'll hear whate'er my page may bring No fiercer pangs my heart can feel, Though death to-night my doom should scal!" V. The page approached at her command, An anxious glance upon her flung, VI. "In Count GUDONI's spacious hall Rise loud the sounds of festival, The golden lamps are burning bright— And like a Peri by his side, I saw his fair Sicilian bride Her brow". "Enough, my page, 'tis well, What further passed thou needst not tell ;Peace to Lord LEON and his bride," Firmly, yet softly, she replied; "My secret, keep-for if one breath My sire should learn, 'twill cause my death; And that I am unfit to die, Is known to all the saints on high. Refrain thy tears-nor weep nor sigh Myself am calm :-now to thy bed, With Heaven's best blessing on thy head." VII. The faithful page dropped on his knee, And said, while tears suffused his eye, "My life is consecrate to thee, Whate'er thy future destiny. |