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Now Laura's image haunts his soul,
In woe's dark tints arrayed;
And all her charms displayed.
For me, her native home (he said),
For me, each weeping friend, For me, a father's arms she fled
And shall not love attend ?
Say, for a chosen lover's sake,
What more could woman do ? And now that health and peace forsake,
Shall I forsake her too ?
Now stretched upon the naked ground,
Oppressed with pain and fear, She casts a languid eye around,
Nor sees Cabeysa near.
Now, now she weeps at my delay,
And shall neglect be mine? Submit, ye fears, to pity's sway,'
He spoke--and crossed the line.
Soon at his sight the fair resumed
Each captivating grace: On her pale cheek the rose re-bloomed,
And smiles illumed her face.
Yet to that cheek returned in 'vain
Bright health's vermillion dye, For bitter tears that cheek shall stain, And dim her brilliant
The youth returning thro' the gloom,
At midnight's secret hour, Was seized and to dishonour's tomb
Doomed by the martial power.
To meet his fate at wake of day
(Love's victim), he was led : No weakness did his cheek betray,
While to the chief he said,
• If in the battle death I've dared,
In all its horror drest, Think not this scene, by thee prepared, Sheds terror on my
Yet then at Laura's hapless fate,
My fortitude impairs,
Of her oppressive cares.
Ah! when her grief-torn heart shall bleed,
Some little solace grant;
From the rude hand of want.'
Now, kneeling on the fatal spot,
He twined the darkening band;
Reluctant took their stand.
And now the murmuring throng grew dumb,
'Twas silent all-save where, At intervals the mournful drum,
Struck horror on the ear.
Now, with their death-fraught tubes up-reared,
The destined twelve were seen-
That closed Cabeysa's scene.
Another scene remained behind,
For Laura to supplyShe comes ! mark how her tortured mind
Speaks thro' th' expressive eye.
Forbear-will ye in blood (she said),
Your cruel hands imbrue ?
To me alone 'tis due.
* Relent and to these arms again
The valiant youth restore ; I rave-already on the plain
He welters in his gore..
Advancing now, she pierced the crowd,
And reached the fatal place, Where, lifting from the corse the shroud,
No semblance could she trace.
• Is this—Oh blasting view ! (she cried),
The youth who loved too well ? His love for me the law defied,
And for that love he fell !
• When will the grave this form receive ?
The grave to which he's fled !
THE VILLAGE MANSION.
Mark yon old mansion, frowning thro' the trees,