Page:A Tale of the Secret Tribunal.pdf/35

    "'Twas but in visions—canst thou yet
Recall the moment when we met?
Thy step to greet me lightly sprung,
Thy arms around me fondly clung;
Scarce aught than infant-seraph less,
Seem'd thy pure childhood's loveliness.
But he was gone—that son, for whom
I rush'd on guilt's eternal doom,
He for whose sake alone were given
My peace on earth, my hope in Heaven,
He met me not.—A ruthless band,
Whose name with terror fill'd the land,
Fierce outlaws of the wood and wild,
Had reft the father of his child.
Foes to my race, the hate they nurs'd,
Full on that cherish'd scion burst.
Unknown his fate.—No parent nigh,
My boy! my first-born! didst thou die?
Or did they spare thee for a life
Of shame, of rapine, and of strife?
Liv'st thou, unfriended, unallied,
A wanderer, lost without a guide?
Oh! to thy fate's mysterious gloom
Blest were the darkness of the tomb!

    "Ella! 'tis done—my guilty heart
Before thee all unveil'd-depart!
Few pangs 'twill cost thee now to fly
From one so stain'd, so lost as I;
Yet peace to thine untainted breast,
E'en though it hate me—be thou blest!
Farewell! thou shalt not linger here;
E'en now th' Avenger may be near:
Where'er I turn, the foe, the snare,
The dagger, may be ambush'd there;
One hour—and haply all is o'er,
And we must meet on earth no more;