Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/240

226 As such I commune with a loftier race; Angels and spirits are my ministers. These do I part aside to grace his halls; A Spanish gentleman and so, his peer.

Father, I am not well ; my head throhs fast, Unwonted languor weighs upon my frame.

Anger me not, Maria. T is my will, Thou shalt obey. Hell, what these women be! No obstacle would daunt them in the quest Of that which, freely given, they reject. Hold ! Haply just occasion bids thee seem Unlike thyself. Speak fearlessly, dear child; Confide to me thy knowledge, thy surmise.

No, father, you were right. I have no cause; Punish me nay, forgive, and I obey.

[{c|RIBERA.}} There spake my child; kiss me and be forgiven. Sometimes I doubt thou playest upon my love &quot;Willfully, knowing me as soft as clay, Whom the world knows of marble. In such moods, I see my spirit mirror d first, and then From thy large eyes thy sainted mother’s soul Unclouded sbine.