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JOSE DE ESPRONCEDA.
309


And by the wretched culprit's side,
His face with hood half covered o'er,
The friar, with trembling voice to guide,
Is heard his prayers implore.

His brow then raises he again,
And slowly lifts to heaven his eyes;
Perhaps a prayer for mercy fain
May in his grief arise.
A tear flows: whence had that release?
Was it from bitterness or fear?
Perhaps his sorrows to increase
Some thought to memory dear?

So young! and life, that he had dream'd
Was full of golden days to glide,
Is pass'd, when childhood's tears it seem'd
As scarcely yet were dried.
Then on him of his childhood burst
The thought, and of his mother's woe,
That he whom she so fondly nursed
Was doom'd that death to know.

And while that hopelessly he sees
His course already death arrest,
He feels his life's best energies

Beat strongly in his breast;