Page:Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 16 1826.pdf/13



hands were clasp'd, her dark eyes raised, The breeze threw back her hair; Up to the fearful wheel she gazed, All that she loved was there. The night was round her clear and cold, The holy heaven above; Its pale stars watching to behold The night of earthly love.

"And bid me not depart," she cried, "My Rudolph! say not so! This is no time to quit thy side,    Peace, peace! I cannot go. Hath the world aught for me to fear     When death is on thy brow? The world!—what means it?—mine is here—     I will not leave thee now!

"I have been with thee in thine hour    Of glory and of bliss, Doubt not its memory's living power     To strengthen me through this! And thou, mine honour'd love and true,     Bear on, bear nobly on! We have the blessed Heaven in view,     Whose rest shall soon be won."—

And were not these high words to flow From Woman's breaking heart? —Through all that night of bitterest woe She bore her lofty part: But oh! with such a freezing eye, With such a curdling cheek— —Love, love! of mortal agony, Thou, only thou, shouldst speak!

The winds rose high—but with them rose Her voice, that he might hear;— Perchance that dark hour brought repose To happy bosoms near: While she sat striving with despair Beside his tortured form, And pouring her deep soul in prayer Forth on the rushing storm.