Years contracting to a moment,

Each word greedier than the last;

"Hie thee to the Countess, friend! return with speed,

And of this Stranger speak, by whom her lord was freed.

XIX.

"Say that I, who might have languished,
Drooped, and pined till life was spent,
Now before the gates of Stolberg

My Deliverer would present

For a crowning recompense, the precious grace Of her who in my heart still holds her ancient place.

xx.

"Make it known that my Companion

Is of royal Eastern blood,
Thirsting after all perfection,

Innocent, and meek, and good,

Though with misbelievers bred; but that dark night Will holy Church disperse by beams of Gospel light."

ΧΧΙ.

Swiftly went that gray-haired Servant,
Soon returned a trusty Page
Charged with greetings, benedictions,

Thanks, and praises, each a gage

For a sunny thought to cheer the Stranger's way, Her virtuous scruples to remove, her fears allay.

XXII.

And how blest the Reunited,

While beneath their castle-walls
Runs a deafening noise of welcome!

Blest, though every tear that falls

Doth in its silence of past sorrow tell,

And makes a meeting seem most like a dear farewell

XXIII.

Through a haze of human nature,
Glorified by heavenly light,

Looked the beautiful Deliverer

On that overpowering sight,

While across her virgin cheek pure blushes strayed For every tender sacrifice her heart had made.

XXIV.

On the ground the weeping Countess
Knelt, and kissed the Stranger's hand;
Act of soul-devoted homage,

Pledge of an eternal band:

Nor did aught of future days that kiss belie, Which, with a generous shout, the crowd did ratify.

XXV.

Constant to the fair Armenian,

Gentle pleasures round her moved.

Like a tutelary spirit

Reverenced, like a sister loved.

Christian meekness smoothed for all the path of life, Who, loving most, should wiseliest love, their only strife.

XXVI.

Mute memento of that union

In a Saxon church survives,

Where a cross-legged Knight lies sculptured
As between two wedded Wives,

Figures with armorial signs of race and birth,
And the vain rank the pilgrims bore while yet on

earth.

1830.

XXXV.

LOVING AND LIKING:

IRREGULAR VERSES, ADDRESSED TO A

CHILD.

(BY MY SISTER.)

THERE's more in words than I can teach :

Yet listen, Child! — I would not preach;

But only give some plain directions
To guide your speech and your affections.
Say not you love a roasted fowl,

But you may love a screaming owl,

And, if you can, the unwieldy toad
That crawls from his secure abode
Within the mossy garden wall
When evening dews begin to fall.
O mark the beauty of his eye!
What wonders in that circle lie!
So clear, so bright, our fathers said
He wears a jewel in his head!
And when, upon some showery day,
Into a path or public way

A frog leaps out from bordering grass,
Startling the timid as they pass,

Do

you observe him, and endeavor
To take the intruder into favor;
Learning from him to find a reason
For a light heart in a dull season.
And you may love him in the pool,
That is for him a happy school,

In which he swims as taught by nature,
Fit pattern for a human creature,
Glancing amid the water bright,
And sending upward sparkling light.

Nor blush if o'er your heart be stealing A love for things that have no feeling: The Spring's first rose by you espied, May fill your breast with joyful pride; And you may love the strawberry-flower, And love the strawberry in its bower; But when the fruit, so often praised

For beauty, to your lip is raised,

Say not you love the delicate treat,

But like it, enjoy it, and thankfully eat.

Long may you love your pensioner mouse,
Though one of a tribe that torment the house:
Nor dislike for her cruel sport the cat,
Deadly foe both of mouse and rat ;
Remember she follows the law of her kind,
And Instinct is neither wayward nor blind.
Then think of her beautiful gliding form,
Her tread that would scarcely crush a worm,
And her soothing song by the winter fire,
Soft as the dying throb of the lyre.

I would not circumscribe your love:

It may soar with the eagle and brood with the dove, May pierce the earth with the patient mole,

Or track the hedgehog to his hole.

Loving and liking are the solace of life,

Rock the cradle of joy, smooth the death-bed of

strife.

You love your father and your mother,
Your grown-up and your baby brother;
You love your sister, and your friends,
And countless blessings which God sends:
And while these right affections play,
You live each moment of your day;
They lead you on to full content,
And likings fresh and innocent,