Page:Felicia Hemans in The Court Magazine Volume IV 1834.pdf/6

 On thy vile couch o'ertakes thee, thou wilt meet Its summons with far other mien than such As I shall bear to ignominious death. (He is led out.)

MATILDA. The hours fly fast, the morn is ris'n, and yet My father comes not! ANTONIETTA. Ah! thou hast not learn'd By sad experience, with how slow a pace Joys ever come; expected long, and oft Deceiving expectation! while the steps Of grief o'ertake us, ere we dream them nigh. But night is past, the long and lingering hours Of hope deferred are o'er, and those of bliss Must soon succeed. A few short moments more And he is with us. E'en from this delay I augur well. A council held so long Must be to give us peace. He will be ours, Perhaps for years, our own. MATILDA. O mother! thus, My hopes, too, whisper. Nights enough in tears, And days in all the sickness of suspense, Our anxious love hath passed. It is full time That each sad moment, at each rumour'd tale, Each idle murmur of the people's voice, We should no longer tremble; that no more This thought should haunt our souls—e'en now, perchance, He, for whom thus your hearts are yearning—dies! ANTONIETTA. Oh! fearful thought!—but vain and distant now! Each joy, my daughter, must be bought with grief. Hast thou forgot the day, when, proudly led In triumph, 'midst the noble and the brave, Thy glorious father to the temple bore The banners won in battle from his foes? MATILDA. A day to be remembered! ANTONIETTA. By his side Each seemed inferior. Every breath of air Swelled with his echoing name; and we, the while, Stationed on high, and severed from the throng, Gazed on that one who drew the gaze of all; While, with the tide of rapture half o'erwhelmed, Our hearts beat high, and whispered—"We are his!" MATILDA. Moments of joy!