«The silence, till my strength should be Enough to leave my accents free e; << « And then her hand on mine she laid, "And smooth'd the pillow for my head, « And stole along on tiptoe tread, «And gently oped the door, and spake «In whispers-ne'er was voice so sweet! « Even music follow'd her light feet ;«But those she call'd were not awake, «And she went forth; but, ere she pass'd, « Another look on me she cast, «Another sign she made, to say « That I had nought to fear, that all « Were near, at my command or call, And she would not delay "Her due return :—while she was gone, Methought I felt too much alone. ་་ XXII. «She came with mother and with sire« What need of more ?—I will not tire << With long recital of the rest, << Since I became the Cossacks' guest: ་་ ་་ ་་ They found me senseless on the plain- They brought me into life again— « Me-one day o'er their realm to reign! « Sent me forth to the wilderness, ་་ Bound, naked, bleeding, and alone, « To pass the desart to a throne. « What mortal his own doom may guess ?— Let none despond, let none despair! «To-morrow the Borysthenes ་་ « As I shall yield when safely there. Comrades, good night!»-The Hetman threw 1 SONNET ON CHILLON. ETERNAL spirit of the chainless mind! To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind. Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar-for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard! -May none those marks efface! For they appeal from tyranny to God. |