Yet, when above the forest-glooms The white swans southward passed, High as the pitch of their swift plumes Her fancy rode the blast; And bore her toward the fields of France, 245 Her Father's native land, To mingle in the rustic dance, The happiest of the band ! 250 Of those beloved fields she oft Had heard her Father tell Haunted her lonely cell; She heard the ancestral stream; Forgotten like a dream! 255 PART IV. 260 THE ever-changing Moon had traced Twelve times her monthly round, Was heard a startling sound; At speed a wounded deer, And where the wood was clear. 265 The fainting creature took the marsh, And toward the Island fed, Above his antlered head; Shrunk to her citadel; The tangled covert fell. 270 275 Across the marsh, the game in view, The Hunter followed fast, A death-proclaiming blast; Came forth the Maid—“In me Pursued by destiny ! 280 “From your deportment, Sir! I deem That you have worn a sword, A suffering woman's word; I might have lain concealed, Not even to you revealed. 285 “Tears might be shed, and I might pray, Crouching and terrified, 290 That what has been unveiled to-day, You would in mystery hide; But I will not defile with dust The knee that bends to adore The God in heaven ;-attend, be just; 295 This ask I, and no more! 300 I speak not of the winter's cold For summer's heat exchanged, From social life estranged; High Heaven is my defence; And every season has soft arms For injured Innocence. 305 - From Moscow to the Wilderness It was my choice to come, And honour want a home; Retain his lawless will, Or a lamb on a green hill.” 310 “Are you the Maid," the Stranger cried, From Gallic parents sprung, Sad theme for every tongue; You, Lady, forced to wear Your head in this dark lair!” 320 But wonder, pity, soon were quelled ; And in her face and mien Without a veil between : Kindled 'mid rapturous tears; As on the wings of years. 325 330 “Such bounty is no gift of chance," Exclaimed he; “righteous Heaven, To me the charge hath given. Is stormy and self-willed; His violence is stilled. 335 Leave open to my wish the course, And I to her will go ; Good, only good, can flow.” Was eager to depart, To the Maiden's filial heart. 340 Light was his step,-his hopes, more light, 345 Kept pace with his desires; Of Moscow's glittering spires. To the lorn Fugitive As sovereign power could give. 350 O more than mighty change! If e'er Amazement rose to pain, 355 Of something void and vain; 'Twas when the Parents, who had mourned So long the lost as dead, Beheld their only Child returned, The household floor to tread. 360 Soon gratitude gave way to love Within the Maiden's breast; In bridal garments drest; The Czar bestowed a dower; The triumph of that hour. 365 |