Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/323

Rh And I dare say it. I can bear the worst That envious fate may heap upon my head, If thou art with me, or for hope of thee.

Art sure of that ? Thou couldst not part from me, Even for thy father s sake?

Talk you of parting? For God s sake, what is this? You love no more?

Rather I love so truly that I shrink From asking thee to share a soldier s fate. I tremble to uproot so fine a flower From its dear native earth. I—

Hush, no more ! I need no preparation more than this, Your mere request.

There spake my heroine. The King, my father, bids me to repair Unto Palermo.