PART IV. а The ever-changing Moon had traced Twelve times her monthly round, When through the unfrequented Waste Was heard a startling sound; At speed a wounded deer, And where the wood was clear. The fainting creature took the marsh, And toward the Island fled, Above his antlered head; Shrunk to her citadel; The tangled covert fell. Across the marsh, the game in view, The Hunter followed fast, A death-proclaiming blast; Came forth the Maid-In me Pursued by destiny ! "From your deportment, Sir! I deem That you have worn a sword, And will not hold in light esteem A suffering woman's word; I might have lain concealed, Not even to you revealed. "Tears might be shed, and I might pray, Crouching and terrified, You would in mystery hide; The knee that bends to adore T'his ask I, and no more! “I speak not of the winter's cold, For summer's heat exchanged, While I have lodged in this rough hold, From social life estranged; Nor yet of trouble and alarms : High Heaven is my defence; And every season has soft arms For injured Innocence. « From Moscow to the Wilderness It was my choice to come, Lest virtue should be harbourless, And honour want a home; в в 2 And happy were I, if the Czar Retain his lawless will, hill." a "Are you the Maid," the Stranger cried, “ From Gallic parents sprung, Whose vanishing was rumoured wide, Sad theme for every tongue ; Who foiled an Emperor's eager quest ? You, Lady, forced to wear These rude habiliments, and rest, Your head in this dark lair !" a 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. “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. Leave open to wish the course, Good, only good, can flow." Was eager to depart, To the Maiden's filial heart. Light was his step,-his hopes, more light, Kept pace with his desires; Of Moscow's glittering spires. To the lorn Fugitive As sovereign power could give. O more than mighty change! If e'er Amazement rose to pain, Of something void and vain ; 'Twas when the Parents, who had mourned So long the lost as dead, The household floor to tread. Soon gratitude gave way to love Within the Maiden's breast; Delivered and Deliverer move In bridal garments drest; Meek Catherine had her own reward ; The Ozar bestowed a dower; And universal Moscow shared The triumph of that hour. Flowers strewed the ground; the nuptial feast Was held with costly state; The Foster-parents sate; They shrank not into shade; 1830. |