Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/328

314 My lord? Go ask Fiametta if the mistress sleeps If she be ailing why she has not come This morn to greet me. [Exit LUCA.

What fond fears are these Mastering my spirit ? Since her mother died I tremble at the name of pain or ill. How can my rude love tend, my hard hand soothe, The dear child s fragile [A. confused cry without. What is that ? My God ! How hast thou stricken me !

Master !

Dear master !