Page:Sentimental reciter.pdf/7

 ’Twas but that instant she had left Francesco,

Laughing and looking back, but flying still;

Her ivory tooth imprinted on his finger.

But now, alas! she was not to be found;

Nor from that hour could any thing be guess’d,

But—that she was not!

Weary of his life,

Francesco flew to Venice, and embarking,

Flung it away in battle with the Turk.

Donati lived—and long after you might have seen

An old man wandering as in quest of something,

Something he could not find—he knew not what!

When he was gone, the house remained a while

Silent and tenantless—then went to strangers.

Full fifty years were past, and all forgotten,

When, on an idle day, a day of search

’Mid the old lumber in the gallery.

That mouldering chest was noticed.’Twas said

By one as young, as thoughtless as Ginevra,

“Why not remove it from its lurking-place?”

’Twas done as soon as said; but on the way

It burst—it fell; and, lo! a skeleton!

With here and there a pearl, an emerald stone,

A golden clasp clasping a shred of gold;

All else had perish’d, save a wedding-ring

And a small seal, her mother’s legacy,

Engraven with a name, the name of both—

“Ginevra.”

There had she found a grave,

Within that chest had she concealed herself,

Fluttering with joy, the happiest of the happy;

When a spring-lock that lay in ambush there

Fastened her down for ever..

Hark! how the church bell’s thundering harmony

Stirs the glad ear! tidings of joy have come,

Good tidings of great joy! two gallant ships

Met on the element—they met, they fought

A desperate fight! good tidings of great joy!

Old England triumph’d! yet another day

Of glory for the ruler of the waves!

For those who fell, ’twas in their country’s cause,

They have their passing paragraphs of praise,

And are forgotten.