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Fold in behind each other, and so make A circular vale, and land-lock'd, as might seem, With brook and bridge, and grey stone cottages, Half hid by rocks and fruit-trees. Beneath my feet, The whortle-berries are bedewed with spray, Dashed upwards by the furious waterfall. How solemnly the pendent ivy-mass Swings in its winnow! All the air is calm.. . The smoke from cottage-chimnies, ting'd with light, Rises in columns: from this house alone, Close by the waterfall, the column slants, And feels its ceaseless breeze. But what is this? That cottage, with its slanting chimney-smoke, And close beside its porch a sleeping child, His dear head pillowed on a sleeping dogOne arm between its fore legs, and the hand Holds loosely its small handful of wild-flowers, Unfilletted, and of unequal lengths. A curious picture, with a master's haste Sketch'd on a strip of pinky-silver skin, Peel'd from the birchen bark! Divinest maid ! Yon bark her canvas, and those purple berries Her pencil! See, the juice is scarcely dried On the fine skin! She has been newly here; And lo! yon patch of heath has been her couch
The pressure still remains! O blessed couch!
A Dramatic Fragment.
SANDOVAL. Did you not say you woo'd her?,
Once I lov'd Her whom I dar'd not woo!
And woo'd, perchance, One whom you lov'd not!
. .. Oh! I were most base, Not loving Oropeza. True, I woo'd her, Hoping to heal a deeper wound; but she Met my advances with empassion'd pride, T'hat kindled love with love. And when her sire, Who in his dream of hope already grasp'd The golden circlet in his hand, rejected My suit with insult, and in memory Of ancient feuds pour'd curses on my head, Her blessings overtook and baffled them! But thou art stern, and with unkindly countenance Art inly reasoning whilst thou listen’st to me.
SANDOVAL. Anxiously, Henry! reasoning anxiously. But Oropeza
Blessings gather round her! Within this wood there winds a secret passage, Beneath the walls, which opens out at length Into the gloomiest covert of the Garden The night ere my departure to the army, She, nothing trembling, led me thro' that gloom,
And to the covert by that silent stream,
.. . Oh! no!