Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1824.pdf/65



His heart still hers, although he could not break The chains that pleasure, habit, round him flung— Perhaps false shame; for, that he would not sue For pardon, tho' he knew that pardon were The happiness of both. . . . But, fell at last A deadly sickness on the city; death Came like a conqueror; the lover died By his bride at the altar; upon some It came down sudden, like the lightning stroke; On others, slow and wasting, not less deadly. sickened, but all fled his couch, For their flight was from death—but staid And watched, and soothed, and solaced. ‘Twas one night For the first time she dared to hope—his hand Lost its red heat, and he slept quietly. At last he waked, and waked to consciousness. With but a dim remembrance of his pain, And some fair shadow that had by his couch Watched like the spirit of health, he gazed around, And saw a boy, a wan and sickly boy, Kneeling in silent tears before the cross— And then he knew his 's deep blue eyes, And called upon her name; and, with a cry Of joy and thankfulness, she sprang beside, And bowed her pale lips softly on his brow— That kiss sealed his recovery! Again the lamps are bright in his old hall! Again the feast is spread, and music heard! It is a marriage festival! The bride Is, and her long fidelity Has won her ! L. E. L.