Then with the father's name she coupled words - That pillow is no longer to be thine,
Of vehement indignation; but the Youth

Fond Youth ! that mournful solace now must pass
Checked her with filial meekness; for no thought Into the list of things that cannot be !
Uncharitable crossed his mind, no sense

Unwedded Julia, terror-smitten, hears Of hasty anger rising in the eclipse

The sentence, by her mother's lip pronounced, Of true domestic loyalty, did e'er

That dooms her to a convent.—Who shall tell, Find place within his bosom.-Once again Who dares report, the tidings to the lord The persevering wedge of tyranny

Of her affections ? so they blindly asked Achieved their separation : and once more

Who knew not to what quiet depths a weight Were they united,—to be yet again

Of agony had pressed the Sufferer down : Disparted, pitiable lot! But here

The word, by others dreaded, he can hear A portion of the tale may well be left

Composed and silent, without visible sign
In silence, though my memory could add

Of even the least emotion. Noting this,
Much how the Youth, in scanty space of time, When the impatient object of his love
Was traversed from without ; much, too, of thoughts Upbraided him with slackness, he returned
That occupied his days in solitude

No answer, only took the mother's hand
Under privation and restraint; and what,

And kissed it ; seemingly devoid of pain, Through dark and shapeless fear of things to come, Or care, that what so tenderly he pressed, And what, through strong compunction for the past, Was a dependant on the obdurate heart He suffered-breaking down in heart and mind ! Of one who came to disunite their lives

For ever- sad alternative ! preferred, Doomed to a third and last captivity,

By the unbending Parents of the Maid,
His freedom he recovered on the eve

To secret 'spousals meanly disavowed.
Of Julia's travail. When the babe was born, -So be it!
Its presence tempted him to cherish schemes

In the city he remained
Of future happiness. “You shall return,

A season after Julia had withdrawn Julia,” said he, “and to your father's house To those religious walls. He, too, departs Go with the child.—You have been wretched; yet who with him ?-even the senseless Little-one. The silver shower, whose reckless burthen weighs With that sole charge he passed the city-gates, Too heavily upon the lily's head,

For the last time, attendant by the side Oft leaves a saving moisture at its root.

Of a close chair, a litter, or sedan, Malice, beholding you, will melt away.

In which the Babe was carried. To a hill, Go !—'tis a town where both of us were born; That rose a brief league distant from the town, None will reproach you, for our truth is known; The dwellers in that house where he had lodged And if, amid those once-bright bowers, our fate Accompanied his steps, by anxious love Remain unpitied, pity is not in man.

Impelled ;-they parted from him there, and stood With ornaments—the prettiest, nature yields Watching below till he had disappeared Or art can fashion, shall you deck our boy, On the hill top. His eyes he scarcely took, And feed his countenance with your own sweet looks Throughout that journey, from the vehicle Till no one can resist him.-Now, even now, (Slow-moving ark of all his hopes !) that veiled I see him sporting on the sunny lawn;

The tender infant: and at every inn, My father from the window sees him too ; And under every hospitable tree Startled, as if some new-created thing

At which the bearers halted or reposed, Enriched the earth, or Faery of the woods Laid him with timid care upon his knees, Bounded before him ;-but the unweeting Child And looked, as mothers ne'er were known to look, Shall by his beauty win his grandsire's heart Upon the nursling which his arms embraced. So that it shall be softened, and our loves End happily, as they began !”

This was the manner in which Vaudracour

These gleams Departed with his infant ; and thus reached Appeared but seldom ; oftener was he seen His father's house, where to the innocent child Propping a pale and melancholy face

Admittance was denied. The young man spake Upon the Mother's bosom ; resting thus

No word of indignation or reproof,
His head upon one breast, while from the other But of his father begged, a last request,
The Babe was drawing in its quiet food.

That a retreat might be assigned to him