Page:A Tale of the Secret Tribunal.pdf/24

    But she was chang'd; scarce heav'd her breath;
She stood like one prepar'd for death,
And wept no more; then, casting down
From her fair brows the nuptial crown,
As joy's last vision from her heart,
Cried with sad firmness—"We must part!
'Tis past—these bridal flow'rs, so frail,
They may not brook one stormy gale.
Survive—too dear as still thou art,
Each hope they imag'd—we must part!
One struggle yet—and all is o'er—
We love—and may we meet no more!
Oh! little know'st thou of the pow'r
Affection lends in danger's hour,
To deem that fate should thus divide
My footsteps from a father's side!
Speed thou to other shores—I go
To share his wand'rings and his woe;
Where'er his path of thorns may lead,
Whate'er his doom, by Heaven decreed,
If there be guardian Powers above,
To nerve the heart of filial love;
If courage may be won by pray'r,
Or strength by duty—I can bear!
Farewell!—though in that sound be years
Of blighted hopes and fruitless tears,
Though the soul vibrate to its knell
Of joys departed—yet, farewell!"

Was this the maid who seem’d, ere-while,
Born but to meet life's vernal smile?
A being, almost on the wing,
As an embodied breeze of spring?