Kind was thy boyish heart and true, When rear'd together there, Through the old woods like fawns ye flewWhere is thy brother-where? "Well didst thou love him then, and he Now must the tears of grief and shame "And let them, let them there be pour'd! Thine own wrung heart, to love restored, Oh! death is mighty to make peace; Now bid his work be done! So many an inward strife shall cease- His eye was dimm'd-the strong man shook With feelings long suppress'd; Up in his arms the boys he took, And strain'd them to his breast. And a shout from all in the royal hall And eyes were wet 'midst the brave that met TASSO AND HIS SISTER. "Devant vous est Sorrente; là demeuroit la sœur de Tasse, quand il vint en pélérin demander à cette obscure amie, un asyle contre l'injustice des princes. - Ses longues douleurs avaient presque égaré sa raison; il ne lui restoit plus que son génie." Corinne. SHE sat, where on each wind that sigh'd, While the red gold of eventide Her bower was one where daylight's close As thence the voice of childhood rose But still and thoughtful, at her knee, With bright fix'd wondering eyes, that gazed With brows through parted ringlets raised, They stood in silent grace. While she-yet something o'er her look Forth from a poet's magic book 23 The proud undying lay, which pour'd His of the gifted pen and sword,' She read of fair Erminia's flight, Of him she read, who broke the charm Young cheeks around that bright page glow'd, Young holy hearts, were stirr'd; And the meek tears of woman flow'd Fast o'er each burning word. And sounds of breeze, and fount, and leaf, The mother turn'd-a way-worn man, It is scarcely necessary to recall the well-known Italian saying, that Tasso, with his sword and pen, was superior to all men. But drops which would not stay for pride, "Am I so changed?—and yet we two My soul is dim with clouds of care "Life hath been heavy on my head, I come a stricken deer, Bearing the heart, 'midst crowds that bled, To bleed in stillness here." She gazed, till thoughts that long had slept She fell upon his neck and wept, Her brother's name!-and who was he, He was the bard of gifts divine To sway the souls of men; ULLA, OR THE ADJURATION. "Yet speak to me! I have outwatch'd the stars, Manfred. "THOU'RT gone!-thou'rt slumbering low, But a haunting dream to love thee! The white spray up in showers. There's a shadow of the grave on thy hearth and round thy home; Come to me from the ocean's dead!-thou'rt surely of them-come!" 'Twas Ulla's voice-alone she stood In the Iceland summer night, Far gazing o'er a glassy flood, From a dark rock's beetling height. "I know thou hast thy bed Where the sea-weed's coil hath bound thee; The storm sweeps o'er thy head, But the depths are hush'd around thee. |