"There will he pause till all is done"And hear the prayer, but utter none. "See-by the half-illumined wall

"His hood fly back, his dark hair fall,

"Saint Francis, keep him from the shrine!

"Else may we dread the wrath divine

910

"Made manifest by awful sign.

"If ever evil angel bore

"The form of mortal, such he wore :

"By all my hope of sins forgiven,

"Such looks are not of earth nor heaven!"

915

To love the softest hearts are prone,
But such can ne'er be all his own;
Too timid in his woes to share,
Too meek to meet, or brave despair;
And sterner hearts alone may feel

920

The wound that time can never heal.

The rugged metal of the mine

Must burn before its surface shine,

But plunged within the furnace-flame,

It bends and melts-though still the same;

925

Then temper'd to thy want, or will,

"Twill serve thee to defend or kill;

A breast-plate for thine hour of need,

Or blade to bid thy foeman bleed;

But if a dagger's form it bear,

Let those who shape its edge, beware!
Thus passion's fire, and woman's art,
Can turn and tame the sterner heart;
From these its form and tone are ta'en,

And what they make it, must remain,
But break-before it bend again.

*

930

935

If solitude succeed to grief,

Release from pain is slight relief;

The vacant bosom's wilderness

Might thank the pang that made it less.
We loathe what none are left to share:
Even bliss-'twere woe alone to bear;
The heart once left thus desolate
Must fly at last for ease—to hate.
It is as if the dead could feel

940

945

Who would be doom'd to gaze upon
A sky without a cloud or sun?
Less hideous far the tempest's roar
Than ne'er to brave the billows more-

Thrown, when the war of winds is o'er,

965

A lonely wreck on fortune's shore,

'Mid sullen calm, and silent bay, Unseen to drop by dull decay ;Better to sink beneath the shock

Than moulder piecemeal on the rock!

970

*

"Father! thy days have pass'd in peace,
""Mid counted beads, and countless prayer;
"To bid the sins of others cease,

66

Thyself without a crime or care,

"Save transient ills that all must bear,

975

"Has been thy lot from youth to age;

"And thou wilt bless thee from the rage

Of passions fierce and uncontroll'd,

"Such as thy penitents unfold,

"Whose secret sins and sorrows rest

"Within thy pure and pitying breast.

VOL. II.

E

980

66

My days, though few, have pass'd below "In much of joy, but more of woe;

"Yet still in hours of love or strife,

"I've 'scaped the weariness of life:

"Now leagued with friends, now girt by foes,
"I loathed the languor of repose.

"Now nothing left to love or hate,
"No more with hope or pride elate,
"I'd rather be the thing that crawls
"Most noxious o'er a dungeon's walls,
"Than pass my dull, unvarying days,
"Condemn'd to meditate and gaze.
"Yet, lurks a wish within my breast
"For rest-but not to feel 'tis rest.
"Soon shall my fate that wish fulfil;
"And I shall sleep without the dream
"Of what I was, and would be still,

66

66

66

"Dark as to thee my deeds may seem: My memory now is but the tomb

Of joys long dead; my hope, their doom:

Though better to have died with those

"Than bear a life of lingering woes.

985

990

995

1000

66

My spirit shrunk not to sustain

"The searching throes of ceaseless pain;

1005