Page:Sibylline Leaves (Coleridge).djvu/159

 Oh! I were most base, Not loving Oropeza. True, I woo'd her. Hoping to heal a deeper wound; but she Met my advances with empassion'd pride. That kindled love with love. And when her sire, Who in his dream of hope already grasp'd The golden circlet in his hand, rejected My suit with insult, and in memory Of ancient feuds pour'd curses on my head. Her blessings overtook and baffled them! But thou art stern, and with unkindly countenance Art inly reasoning whilst thou listen'st to me.

Anxiously, Henry! reasoning anxiously. But Oropeza—

Blessings gather round her! Within this wood there winds a secret passage, Beneath the walls, which opens out at length Into the gloomiest covert of the Garden— The night ere my departure to the army. She, nothing trembling, led me thro' that gloom,