Page:Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 19 1827.pdf/6



And what bold step may follow, 'midst the roar Of the red billows, o'er their prey that rise? None!—Courage there stood still—and never more Did those fair forms emerge on human eyes! Was one brief meeting theirs, one wild farewell, And died they heart to heart?—oh! who can tell?

Freshly and cloudlessly the morning broke On that sad palace, midst its pleasure-shades; Its painted roofs had sunk—yet black with smoke And lonely stood its marble colonnades: But yester-eve their shafts with wreaths were bound— Now lay the scene one shrivell'd scroll around!

And bore the ruins no recording trace Of all that woman's heart had dared and done? —Yes! there were gems to mark its mortal place, That forth from dust and ashes dimly shone! Those had the mother, on her gentle breast, Worn round her child's fair image, there at rest.*

And they were all!—the tender and the true Left this alone her sacrifice to prove, Hallowing the spot where mirth once lightly flew, To deep, lone, chasten'd thoughts of grief and love! —Oh! we have need of patient Faith below, To clear away the mysteries of such woe!F. H.