Page:Poems of Sentiment and Imagination.djvu/158

154 Maz. Thou hast indeed heard what I never meant

Should reach thy youthful ears. But being so,

I must forgive thee for thy natural wish

To know thy mother's history. And now

Sit by my side—and thou must talk to me;

'Twill soothe the feverish throbbing of my veins,

And calm the thoughts the resurrected past

Hath stirred within my breast.

Azlea. What I have heard

Is what hath held thee here in solitude,

Shunning the world, and hiding it from me:

Is it not, father?

Maz. Yes, my Azlea;

I would not have thee hear its voice of guile—

I would not have thy spirit bear the taint

Of its impurities; or have thy heart

Crushed by its withering sorrows. I would keep

Thy soul as fresh and pure—as free from care—

As the free bird of heaven; never have thee

Know aught of any sorrow; never have thee

Know aught of any passion, save thy love

For thy infirm old father. Azlea,

I know this must seem selfish, cold, and strange;

But now thou knowest how my heart was broken,

Thou wilt not marvel at it.

Azlea. My father!

I fain would tell thee what must give thee pain,

But can not bear to hear thy sorrowing.

Thy child hath been forgetful of her promise—

Hath told a stranger that her foolish heart

Cherished his image in it; that she deemed

She loved him with the love he wished of her.

Maz. Alas, alas! that this should come so early!

But my heart whispered that it must be so;

And now I find its prophecy not idle.