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For on a grateful nation's breaste
Thou and this orphan babe shall reste,
THE SYMPATHY OF LOVE.
We met—we gazed—I saw and sighed
Involuntary sparks of thought,
Which strike from out the heart o'erwrought,
And form a strange intelligence,
Alike mysterious and intense,
Which link the burning chain that binds,
We know not how, the absorbing fire
I saw, and sighed-in silence wept,
Without suspicion then, even then,
The accents tremulous and weak,
And we to this, it seems, were set,
By some strange chance, which I forget:
I recked not if I won or lost,
It was enough for me to be
So near to her, and oh! to see
The being whom I loved the most
I watched her as a sentinel,
(May ours this dark night watch as well!) Until I saw, and thus it was,
That she was pensive, nor perceived.
That there was something in her air,
Who listens once will listen twice;
I loved, and was beloved again.
THE DEATH OF HAIDEE.
The last sight which she saw was Juan's gore,
Where late he trod, her beautiful, her own;
Her struggle ceased with one convulsive groan; On her sire's arm, which until now scarce held Her writhing, fell she like a cedar felled.
A vein had burst-and her sweet lips' pure dyes
Were dabbled with the deep blood which ran o'er; And her head drooped as when the lily lies
O'ercharged with rain; the summoned handmaids bore Their lady to her couch with gushing eyes :
Of herbs and cordials they produced their store,
Days lay she in that state, unchanged, though chill,
All hope to look upon her sweet face bred
The ruling passion, such as marble shows
When exquisitely chiselled, still lay there,
And ever-dying Gladiator's air,
She woke at length-but not as sleepers wake-
Lay at her heart, whose earliest beat, still true,
She looked on many a face with vacant eye,
And recked not who around her pillow sat; Not speechless, though she spoke not: a sigh
Relieved her thoughts; dull silence and quick chat Were tried in vain by those who served-she gave No sign, save breath, of having left the grave.
Her handmaids tended, but she heeded not;
However dear or cherished in their day:
They changed from room to room, but all forgot,
And yet those eyes, which they would fain be weaning