Page:Felicia Hemans in The Winter's Wreath 1831.pdf/16

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Take off its interdict. Wait thou the hour Of that high impulse.

. Is it not the Sun Whose radiant bursting through th' embattled clouds Doth make it morn? The hour of which thou speak'st Itself, with all its glory, is the work Of some commanding nature, which doth bid The sullen shades disperse. Away!—e'en now The land's high hearts, the fearless and the true, Shall know they have a leader. Is not this The mansion of mine own, mine earliest friend, Sylveira?

. Aye, its glittering lamps too well Illume the stately vestibule, to leave Our sight a moment's doubt. He ever loved Such pageantries.

. His dwelling thus adorned On such a night! Yet will I seek him here. He must he faithful, and to him the first My tale shall be revealed. A sudden chill Falls on my heart; and yet I will not wrong My friend with dull suspicion. He hath been Linked all too closely with mine inmost soul. And what have I to lose?

. Is their blood nought Who, without hope, will follow where thou leadest, Even unto death?

. Was that a brave man's voice? Warrior and friend! how long then hast thou learned To hold thy blood thus dear?