Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/334

320 My thrice-blest Leonora, whom I pitied, Fool that I was ! in her void, silent tomb. The God of mercy hath reserved me truly For a wise purpose.

Father, rise ; take courage; We know not yet the end.

Why should I rise To front the level eyes of men s contempt? Oh, I am shamed ! Cover my head, Annicca; Darken mine eyes, and veil my face. Oh, God, Would that I were a nameless, obscure man, So could I bury with me my disgrace, That now must be immortal. Where thou standest, Annicca, there she stood last night. She kissed me; Round mine old neck she wreathed her soft, young arms. My wrinkled cheeks were wet with her warm tears. She shuddered, and I thought it was the thunder Struck terror through her soul. White-bearded fool!

I found this scrip upon the chamber-floor, Mayhap it brings some comfort.