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A DRAMATIC FRAGMENT.
Sandoval. You loved the daughter of Don Man
rique ? Earl Henry
Loved ? Sandoval. Did you not say you wooed her ? Earl Henry.
Once I loved Her whom I dared not woo ! Sandoval.
And wooed, perchance, One whom you loved not ! Earl Henry.
Oh! I were most base, Not loving Oropeza. True, I wooed her, Hoping to heal a deeper wound; but she
1 Met my advances with impassioned pride, That kindled love with love. And when her sire, Who in his dream of hope already grasped The golden circlet in his hand, rejected My suit with insult, and in memory Of ancient feuds poured curses on my head, Her blessings overtook and baffled them! But thou art stern, and with unkindly countenance Art inly reasoning whilst thou listenest to me. Sandoval. Anxiously, Henry! reasoning anx
iously. But Oropeza
Earl Henry. Blessings gather round her! Within this wood there winds a secret passage, Beneath the walls, which opens out at length Into the gloomiest covert of the garden.The night ere my departure to the army, She, nothing trembling, led me through that gloom, And to that covert by a silent stream, Which, with one star reflected near its marge, Was the sole object visible around me. No leaflet stirred; the air was almost sultry; So deep, so dark, so close, the umbrage o'er us ! No leaflet stirred ;—yet pleasure hung upon The gloom and stillness of the balmy night-air. A little further on an arbour stood, Fragrant with flowering trees—I well remember What an uncertain glimmer in the darkness Their snow-white blossoms made—thither she led
me, To that sweet bower! Then Oropeza trembledI heard her heart beat—if 'twere not my own.
Sandoval. A rude and scaring note, my friend.
eyes suffused with rapture.—Life was in us : We were all life, each atom of our frames
A living soul-I vowed to die for her:
than as eastern sages paint,
Ah! was that bliss
them. Through the dark bower she sent a hollow
“Oh! what if all betray me? what if thou?” I swore, and with an inward thought that seemed The purpose
and the substance of my being, I swore to her, that were she red with guilt, I would exchange my unblenched state with
hers. Friend ! by that winding passage, to that bower I now will go—all objects there will teach me Unwavering love, and singleness of heart.
Go, Sandoval ! I am prepared to meet her-
[EARL HENRY retires into the wood. Sandoval (alone.) O Henry! always striv'st
thou to be great
LINES COMPOSED IN A CONCERT-ROOM.
Nor cold, nor stern, my soul! yet I detest
These scented rooms, where, to a gaudy throng, Heaves the proud harlot her distended breast
In intricacies of laborious song.
These feel not Music's genuine power, nor deign
To melt at Nature's passion-warbled plaint ; But when the long-breathed singer's uptrilled
strain Bursts in a squall—they gape for wonderment.
Hark! the deep buzz of vanity and hate !
Scornful, yet envious, with self-torturing sneer My lady eyes some maid of humbler state,
While the pért captain, or the primmer priest, Prattles accordant scandal in her ear.
O give me, from this heartless scene released,
To hear our old musician, blind and gray, (Whom stretching from my nurse's arms I kissed,)
His Scottish tunes and warlike marches play, By moonshine, on the balmy summer-night,
The while I dance amid the tedded hay With merry maids, whose ringlets toss in light.