Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/325

Rh Of mine own baby heart were taught to twine. I speak not now as one who swerves or shrinks, But merely, dear, to show thee what sharp tortures I, nowise blind, but with deliberate soul, Embrace for thee.

How can I doubt the anguish So rude a snapping of all ties must smite Thy tender heart withal? Yet, dwell we not On the brief pain, but on the enduring joys. If the Ribera’s love be all thou deemest, He will forgive thy secret flight, thy—

Secret! May I not bid farewell? May I not tell him Where we are bound? How soon he may have hope To hear from me—to welcome me, thy Princess? I dare not leave him without hope.

My child, Thou art mad! We must be secret as the grave, Else are we both undone. I have given out That I depart in princely state to-morrow. Far from the quay a bark awaiteth us.