It seem'd, as though that deed abhorr'd,
In years far distant done,
Had cut asunder ever cord
Of fellowship but one,―

That one indissolubly bound
A feeble woman's heart:
-Faithful in every trial found,
Long had she borne her part;
Now at his helpless side alone,
Girt with infuriate crowds,

Like the new moon her meekness shone,
Pale through a gulf of clouds.

Ah! well might every bosom yearn,

Responsive to her sigh;

And every visage, dark and stern,
Soften beneath that eye:
Ah! well might every lip of gall
Th' unutter'd curse suspend;
Its tones for her in blessings fall,
Its breath in prayer ascend.

"Guilty!"-that thunder-striking sound, All shudder'd when they heard;

A burst of horrid joy around

Hail'd the tremendous word;

Check'd in a moment,—she was there! The instinctive groan was hush'd; Nature, that forced it, cried, "Forbear;" Indignant justice blush'd.

PART V.

One wo is past, another speeds

To brand and seal his doom;
The third day's failing beam recedes,
She watch'd it into gloom:

That night, how swift in its career,
It flew from sun to sun!

That night, the last of many a dear,
And many a dolorous one!—

That night, by special grace she wakes
In the lone convict's cell,

With him for whom the morrow breaks,
To light to heaven or hell:
Dread sounds of preparation rend
The dungeon's ponderous roof;
The hammer's doubling strokes descend,
The scaffold creeks aloof.

She watch'd his features through the shade,
Which glimmering embers broke ;
Both from their inmost spirit pray'd;
They pray'd, but seldom spoke:
Moments meanwhile were years to him;
Her grief forgot their flight,
Till on the hearth the fire grew dim;
She turn'd, and lo! the light ;-

The light less welcome to her eyes,
The loveliest light of morn,
Than the dark glare of felon's eyes
Through grated cells forlorn :

The cool fresh breeze from heaven that blew,

The free lark's mounting strains,

She felt in drops of icy dew,

She heard, like groans and chains.

"Farewell!"-'twas but a word, yet more

Was utter'd in that sound,

Than love had ever told before,
Or sorrow yet had found :

They kiss like meeting flames,—they part,
Like flames asunder driven;

Lip cleaves to lip, heart beats on heart,

Till soul from soul is riven.

Quick hurried thence,

the sullen bell

Its pausing peal began ;

1821.

She hearkens,-'tis the dying knell,
Rung for the living man :

The mourner reach'd her lonely bower,
Fell on her widow'd bed,

And found, through one entrancing hour,
The quiet of the dead.

She woke, and knew he was no more:
Thy dream of life is past;

66

That pang with thee, that pang is o'er,
The bitterest and the last!"
She cried: then scenes of sad amaze
Flash'd on her inward eye;
A field, a troop, a crowd to gaze,
A murderer led to die!

He eyed the ignominious tree,
Look'd round, but saw no friend;

Was plunged into eternity;

-Is this-is this the end?

Her spirit follow'd him afar
Into the world unknown,
And saw him standing at that bar,
Where each must stand alone.

Silence and darkness hide the rest
-Long she survived to mourn;
But peace sprang up within her breast,
From trouble meekly borne:
And higher, holier joys had she,
A Christian's hopes above,
The prize of suffering constancy,
The crown of faithful love.

A SNAKE IN THE GRASS.

A TALE FOR CHILDREN: FOUNDED ON FACTS.

SHE had a secret of her own,

That little girl of whom we speak,
O'er which she oft would muse alone,
Till the blush came across her cheek,
A rosy cloud, that glow'd awhile,
Then melted in a sunny smile.

There was so much to charm the eye,
So much to move delightful thought,
Awake at night she loved to lie,

Darkness to her that image brought;
She murmur'd of it in her dreams,
Like the low sounds of gurgling streams.

What secret thus the soul possess'd

Of one so young and innocent?
Oh! nothing but a robin's nest,

O'er which in ecstasy she bent;
That treasure she herself had found,
With five brown eggs, upon the ground.

When first it flash'd upon her sight,

Bolt flew the dam above her head; She stoop'd, and almost shriek'd with fright; But spying soon that little bed

With feathers, moss, and horse-hairs twined, Rapture and wonder fill'd her mind.

Breathless and beautiful she stood,

Her ringlets o'er her bosom fell; With hands uplift, in attitude,

As though a pulse might break the spell, While through the shade her pale, fine face Shone like a star amidst the place.

She stood so silent, stay'd so long,

The parent-birds forgot their fear; Cock-robin trill'd his small, sweet song,

In notes like dew-drops trembling, clear;
From spray to spray the shyer hen
Dropt softly on her nest again.

There Lucy mark'd her slender bill
On this side, and on that her tail,
Peer'd o'er the edge,-while, fix'd and still,
Two bright black eyes her own assail,

Which, in eye-language, seem to say,

66

Peep, pretty maiden! then, away!"

Away, away, at length she crept,

So pleased, she knew not how she trode, Yet light on tottering tiptoe stept,

As if birds' eggs strew'd all the road;
With folded arms, and lips compress'd,
To keep her joy within her breast.

Morn, noon, and eve, from day to day,
By stealth she visited that spot:
Alike her lessons and her play

Were slightly conn'd, or half forgot; And when the callow young were hatch'd, With infant fondness Lucy watch'd :

Watch'd the kind parents dealing food
To clamorous suppliants all agape;
Watch'd the small, naked, unform'd brood
Improve in size, and plume, and shape,
Till feathers clad the fluttering things,
And the whole group seem'd bills and wings.
Unconsciously within her breast,

Where many a brooding fancy lay,
She plann'd to bear the tiny nest,
And chirping choristers away,
In stately cage to tune their throats,
And learn untaught their mother-notes.