I longed, and was resolved to speak; But on my lips they died again,

The accents tremulous and weak, Until one hour. — There is a game,

A frivolous and foolish play,
Wherewith we while away the day;

It is I have forgot the name

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 hear, and oh! to see

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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,

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That she was pensive, nor perceived

Her occupation, nor was grieved

Nor glad to lose or gain; but still

Played on for hours, as if her will

Yet bound her to the place, though not
That hers might be the winning lot.

Then through my brain the thought did pass,
Even as a flash of lightning there,

That there was something in her air
Which would not doom me to despair;

And on the thought my words broke forth,
All incoherent as they were;

Their eloquence was little worth,
But yet she listened - 'tis enough-

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Who listens once will listen twice;
Her heart, be sure, is not of ice

And one refusal no rebuff.

VII

"I loved, and was beloved again
They tell me, Sire, you never knew
Those gentle frailties; if 'tis true,
I shorten all my joy or pain;

To

you 'twould seem absurd as vain;
But all men are not born to reign,
Or o'er their passions, or as you
Thus o'er themselves and nations too.

A chief of thousands, and could lead

Them on where each would foremost bleed;

But could not o'er myself evince

The like control - But to resume:

I loved, and was beloved again;

In sooth, it is a happy doom,

But yet where happiest ends in pain.

We met in secret, and the hour

Which led me to that lady's bower

Was fiery Expectation's dower.

My days and nights were nothing - all
Except that hour which doth recall,
In the long lapse from youth to age,
No other like itself: I'd give
The Ukraine back again to live
It o'er once more, and be a page,

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The happy page, who was the lord
Of one soft heart, and his own sword,
And had no other gem nor wealth,
Save Nature's gift of Youth and Health.
We met in secret - doubly sweet,
Some say, they find it so to meet;
I know not that — I would have given

My life but to have called her mine
In the full view of Earth and Heaven;
For I did oft and long repine
That we could only meet by stealth.

VIII

"For lovers there are many eyes,

And such there were on us; the Devil
On such occasions should be civil.
The Devil! - I'm loath to do him wrong,
It might be some untoward saint,
Who would not be at rest too long,

But to his pious bile gave vent ·

But one fair night, some lurking spies

Surprised and seized us both.

The Count was something more than wroth

My moments seemed reduced to few; And with one prayer to Mary Mother,

And, it may be, a saint or two,
As I resigned me to my fate,
They led me to the castle gate :

Theresa's doom I never knew,
Our lot was henceforth separate.
An angry man, ye may opine,
Was he, the proud Count Palatine ;
And he had reason good to be,

But he was most enraged lest such
An accident should chance to touch
Upon his future pedigree;

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Nor less amazed, that such a blot

His noble 'scutcheon should have got,
While he was highest of his line;

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Because unto himself he seemed

The first of men, nor less he deemed

In others' eyes, and most in mine.

'Sdeath with a page-perchance a king Had reconciled him to the thing;

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But with a stripling of a page —

I felt but cannot paint his rage.

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IX

Bring forth the horse!'- the horse was brought ! In truth, he was a noble steed,

A Tartar of the Ukraine breed,

Who looked as though the speed of thought

Were in his limbs; but he was wild,

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Wild as the wild deer, and untaught,
With spur and bridle undefiled —

'Twas but a day he had been caught;
And snorting, with erected mane,
And struggling fiercely, but in vain,
In the full foam of wrath and dread

To me the desert-born was led :

They bound me on, that menial throng,
Upon his back with many a thong;

They loosed him with a sudden lash

Away! away!

- and on we dash!

Torrents less rapid and less rash.

"Away! — away!

X

My breath was gone,

I saw not where he hurried on:

'Twas scarcely yet the break of day,

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And on he foamed

-away! — away!

The last of human sounds which rose,
As I was darted from my foes,

Was the wild shout of savage laughter,

Which on the wind came roaring after
A moment from that rabble rout:

With sudden wrath I wrenched my head,

And snapped the cord, which to the mane
Had bound my neck in lieu of rein,

And, writhing half my form about,

Howled back my curse; but 'midst the tread,
The thunder of my courser's speed,

Perchance they did not hear nor heed:

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