Page:Felicia Hemans in The Winter's Wreath 1831.pdf/19

18

In whom he trusted with such perfect trust As should be Heaven's alone,—Mark'st thou my words? Should he then find this man, not girt and armed, And watching o'er the heritage of his lord, But, reckless of high fame and loyal faith, Holding luxurious revels with his foes; How wouldst thou meet his glance?

. As I do thine, Keen tho' it be, and proud.

. Why, thou dost quail Before it, even as if the burning eye Of the broad Sun, pursued thy shrinking soul, Through all its depths.

. Away! He died not there! He should have died then, with the chivalry, And strength, and honour of his kingdom, lost By his impetuous rashness.

. This from thee. Who hath given power to falsehood, that one gaze At its unmasked and withering mien should blight High souls at once? I wake. And this from thee! There are, whose eyes discern the secret springs Which lie beneath the desert, and the gold And gems within earth's caverns, far below The everlasting hills: but who hath dared To dream that heaven's most awful attribute Invested his mortality, and to boast That through its inmost folds his glance could read One heart, one human heart? Why then to love, And trust, is but to lend a traitor arms