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 Those death-like features gave to view, A mortal's pangs, too deep and true! Starting he rose, with frenzied eye, As Ella's hurried step drew nigh; He turn'd, with aspect darkly wild, Trembling he stood—before his child! On, with a burst of tears, she sprung, And to her father's bosom clung.

"Away! what seekst thou here?" he cried, "Art thou not now thine Ulric's bride? Hence, leave me, leave me to await, In solitude, the storm of Fate; Thou know'st not what my doom may be, Ere evening comes in peace to thee."

"My father! shall the joyous throng Swell high for me the bridal song? Shall the gay nuptial board be spread, The festal garland bind my head, And thou, in grief, in peril, roam, And make the wilderness thy home? No! I am here, with thee to share All suffering mortal strength may bear; And, oh! whate'er thy foes decree, In life, in death, in chains, or free; Well, well I feel, in thee secure, Thy heart and hand alike are pure!"