Mighty were the soul's commandments
To support, restrain, or raise.

Foes might hang upon their path, snakes rustle

near,

But nothing from their inward selves had they to fear.

XVI.

Thought infirm ne'er came between them,
Whether printing desert sands
With accordant steps, or gathering

Forest-fruit with social hands;

Or whispering like two reeds that in the cold moonbeam

Bend with the breeze their heads, beside a crystal

stream.

XVII.

On a friendly deck reposing,

They at length for Venice steer;

There, when they had closed their voyage,
One, who daily on the pier

Watched for tidings from the East beheld his

lord,

Fell down and clasped his knees for joy, not uttering word.

XVIII.

Mutual was the sudden transport;

Breathless questions followed fast,

Years contracting to a moment,

Each word greedier than the last ;

"Hie thee to the Countess, friend! return with speed,

And of this Stranger speak, by whom her lord was freed.

XIX.

"Say that I, who might have languished,
Drooped, and pined till life was spent,
Now before the gates of Stolberg

My Deliverer would present

For a crowning recompense, the precious grace Of her who in my heart still holds her ancient place.

XX.

"Make it known that my Companion
Is of royal Eastern blood,
Thirsting after all perfection,

Innocent, and meek, and good,

Though with misbelievers bred; but that dark night Will holy Church disperse by beams of Gospel light."

XXI.

Swiftly went that gray-haired Servant,
Soon returned a trusty Page
Charged with greetings, benedictions,

Thanks, and praises, each a gage

For a sunny thought to cheer the Stranger's way, Her virtuous scruples to remove, her fears allay.

XXII.

And how blest the Reunited,

While beneath their castle-walls Runs a deafening noise of welcome! Blest, though every tear that falls Doth in its silence of past sorrow tell,

And makes a meeting seem most like a dear farewell.

XXIII.

Through a haze of human nature,
Glorified by heavenly light,

Looked the beautiful Deliverer

On that overpowering sight,

While across her virgin cheek pure blushes strayed, For every tender sacrifice her heart had made.

XXIV.

On the ground the weeping Countess
Knelt, and kissed the Stranger's hand;
Act of soul-devoted homage,

Pledge of an eternal band:

Nor did aught of future days that kiss belie, Which, with a generous shout, the crowd did ratify.

XXV.

Constant to the fair Armenian,

Gentle pleasures round her moved,

Like a tutelary spirit

Reverenced, like a sister loved.

Christian meekness smoothed for all the path of life, Who, loving most, should wiseliest love, their only

Mute memento of that union

In a Saxon church survives,

Where a cross-legged Knight lies sculptured
As between two wedded Wives, -

Figures with armorial signs of race and birth, And the vain rank the pilgrims bore while yet on earth.

1830.

XXXV.

LOVING AND LIKING:

IRREGULAR VERSES, ADDRESSED TO A

CHILD.

(BY MY SISTER.)

THERE's more in words than I can teach :

Yet listen, Child! I would not preach;

But only give some plain directions

To guide your speech and your affections.
Say not you love a roasted fowl,

But you may love a screaming owl,

And, if you can, the unwieldy toad
That crawls from his secure abode
Within the mossy garden wall
When evening dews begin to fall.
O mark the beauty of his eye!
What wonders in that circle lie!
So clear, so bright, our fathers said
He wears a jewel in his head!
And when, upon some showery day,
Into a path or public way

A frog leaps out from bordering grass,
Startling the timid as they pass,

Do

you observe him, and endeavor
To take the intruder into favor;
Learning from him to find a reason
For a light heart in a dull season.
And you may love him in the pool,
That is for him a happy school,

In which he swims as taught by nature,
Fit pattern for a human creature,
Glancing amid the water bright,
And sending upward sparkling light.

Nor blush if o'er your heart be stealing A love for things that have no feeling: The Spring's first rose by you espied, May fill your breast with joyful pride; And you may love the strawberry-flower, And love the strawberry in its bower; But when the fruit, so often praised