May brighten more and more! True to the mark, They stem the current of that perilous gorge, Their arms still strengthening with the strengthening heart, 61 Though danger, as the Wreck is neared, becomes 65 More imminent. Not unseen do they approach; 70 That no one breathing should be left to perish, Placed in the little boat, then o'er the deep 80 Send forth a song of triumph. Waves and 84 Exult in this deliverance wrought through faith In Him whose Providence your rage hath served! Ye screaming Sea-mews, in the concert join! And would that some immortal Voice-a Voice Fitly attuned to all that gratitude Breathes out from floor or couch, through pallid lips 90 Of the survivors to the clouds might bearBlended with praise of that parental love, Beneath whose watchful the Maiden grew Pious and pure, modest and yet so brave, Though young so wise, though meek so resolute eye 95 Might carry to the clouds and to the stars, name! XX. 1843. THE RUSSIAN FUGITIVE. PART I. ENOUGH of rose-bud lips, and eyes Earth wants not beauty that may scorn A likening to frail flowers; Yea, to the stars, if they were born Through Moscow's gates, with gold unbarred, Stepped One at dead of night, Whom such high beauty could not guard From meditated blight; By stealth she passed, and fled as fast 5 ΙΟ Nor stopped, till in the dappling east 15 Seven days she lurked in brake and field, At length, in darkness travelling on, 20 "To put your love to dangerous proof I come," said she, "from far; 25 For I have left my Father's roof, In terror of the Czar." No answer did the Matron give, She led the Lady to a seat Beside the glimmering fire, Bathed duteously her wayworn feet, Prevented each desire: The cricket chirped, the house-dog dozed, And on that simple bed, Where she in childhood had reposed, When she, whose couch had been the sod, Had breathed a sigh of thanks to God, While over her the Matron bent Sleep sealed her eyes, and stole Feeling from limbs with travel spent, And trouble from the soul. 30 35 40 45 Refreshed, the Wanderer rose at morn, 66 My thanks with silent tears Have unto Heaven and You been paid: 66 Have you forgot"—and here she smiled— "The babbling flatteries You lavished on me when a child Disporting round your knees? I was your lambkin, and your bird, Light words, that were more lightly heard 66 The blossom you so fondly praised Is come to bitter fruit; A mighty One upon me gazed; I spurned his lawless suit, 50 55 60 65 And must be hidden from his wrath: 70 Will guide me in my forward path; "I cannot bring to utter woe Your proved fidelity." "Dear Child, sweet Mistress, say not so! For you we both would die." 75 "Nay, nay, I come with semblance feigned And cheek embrowned by art; Yet, being inwardly unstained, With courage will depart." 80 "But whither would you, could you, flee? A poor Man's counsel take; The Holy Virgin gives to me A thought for your dear sake; PART II. THE dwelling of this faithful pair And there, sequestered from the sight, And midway in the unsafe morass, Of firm dry ground, with healthful grass 85 90 95 100 The Woodman knew, for such the craft 105 That never fowler's gun, nor shaft Of archer, there was tried; A sanctuary seemed the spot And there he planned an artful Cot IJO |