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'-I cannot help it; ill intent
I've none, my pretty Innocent!
I weep-I know they do thee wrong,
These tears-and my poor idle tongue.
Oh, what a kiss was that! my cheek
How cold it is! but thou art good;
Thine eyes are on me-they would speak,
I think, to help me if they could.
Blessings upon that soft, warm face,
My heart again is in its place!

VII

'While thou art mine, my little Love,
This cannot be a sorrowful grove ;
Contentment, hope, and mother's glee,

I seem to find them all in thee:

Here's grass to play with, here are flowers;
I'll call thee by my darling's name;
Thou hast, I think, a look of ours,
Thy features seem to me the same;
His little sister thou shalt be;

And, when once more my home I see,

I'll tell him many tales of Thee.'

March 16, 17, 1802

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XXX

VAUDRACOUR AND JULIA

[THE following tale was written as an Episode, in a work from which its length may perhaps exclude it. The facts are true; no invention as to these has been exercised, as none was needed.]

O

HAPPY time of youthful lovers (thus

My story may begin) O balmy time,

In which a love-knot on a lady's brow
Is fairer than the fairest star in heaven!

To such inheritance of blessed fancy

(Fancy that sports more desperately with minds
Than ever fortune hath been known to do)

The high-born Vaudracour was brought, by years
Whose progress had a little overstepped

His stripling prime. A town of small repute,
Among the vine-clad mountains of Auvergne,

ΤΟ

Was the Youth's birth-place. There he wooed a Maid
Who heard the heart-felt music of his suit

With answering vows. Plebeian was the stock,
Plebeian, though ingenuous, the stock,

From which her graces and her honours sprung:
And hence the father of the enamoured Youth,
With haughty indignation, spurned the thought
Of such alliance. From their cradles up,
With but a step between their several homes,
Twins had they been in pleasure; after strife
And petty quarrels, had grown fond again;
Each other's advocate, each other's stay;
And, in their happiest moments, not content,
If more divided than a sportive pair

Of sea-fowl, conscious both that they are hovering
Within the eddy of a common blast,

Or hidden only by the concave depth

Of neighbouring billows from each other's sight.

Thus, not without concurrence of an age
Unknown to memory, was an earnest given
By ready nature for a life of love,
For endless constancy, and placid truth;
But whatsoe'er of such rare treasure lay
Reserved, had fate permitted, for support
Of their maturer years, his present mind
Was under fascination ;-he beheld

A vision, and adored the thing he saw.
Arabian fiction never filled the world

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With half the wonders that were wrought for him.

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Earth breathed in one great presence of the spring;
Life turned the meanest of her implements,

Before his eyes, to price above all gold;

The house she dwelt in was a sainted shrine;

Her chamber-window did surpass in glory

The portals of the dawn; all Paradise
Could, by the simple opening of a door,
Let itself in upon him:-pathways, walks,

Swarmed with enchantment, till his spirit sank,
Surcharged, within him, overblest to move
Beneath a sun that wakes a weary world
To its dull round of ordinary cares;
A man too happy for mortality!

So passed the time, till, whether through effect
Of some unguarded moment that dissolved
Virtuous restraint-ah, speak it, think it, not!
Deem rather that the fervent Youth, who saw
So many bars between his present state

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And the dear haven where he wished to be
In honourable wedlock with his Love,
Was in his judgment tempted to decline
To perilous weakness, and entrust his cause
To nature for a happy end of all;

Deem that by such fond hope the Youth was swayed,
And bear with their transgression, when I add
That Julia, wanting yet the name of wife,
Carried about her for a secret grief

The promise of a mother.

To conceal

The threatened shame, the parents of the Maid
Found means to hurry her away by night,
And unforewarned, that in some distant spot
She might remain shrouded in privacy,
Until the babe was born. When morning came,
The Lover, thus bereft, stung with his loss,
And all uncertain whither he should turn,
Chafed like a wild beast in the toils; but soon
Discovering traces of the fugitives,

Their steps he followed to the Maid's retreat.
Easily may the sequel be divined—
Walks to and fro-watchings at every hour;
And the fair Captive, who, whene'er she may,
Is busy at her casement as the swallow
Fluttering its pinions, almost within reach,
About the pendant nest, did thus espy
Her Lover!-thence a stolen interview,
Accomplished under friendly shade of night.

I pass the raptures of the pair;—such theme
Is, by innumerable poets, touched
In more delightful verse than skill of mine
Could fashion; chiefly by that darling bard
Who told of Juliet and her Romeo,

And of the lark's note heard before its time,
And of the streaks that laced the severing clouds
In the unrelenting east.-Through all her courts
The vacant city slept; the busy winds,

That keep no certain intervals of rest,

Moved not; meanwhile the galaxy displayed

Her fires, that like mysterious pulses beat
Aloft ;-momentous but uneasy bliss!

To their full hearts the universe seemed hung
On that brief meeting's slender filament!

They parted; and the generous Vaudracour

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Reached speedily the native threshold, bent

On making (so the Lovers had agreed)

A sacrifice of birthright to attain

A final portion from his father's hand;

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Which granted, Bride and Bridegroom then would flee
To some remote and solitary place,
Shady as night, and beautiful as heaven,
Where they may live, with no one to behold
Their happiness, or to disturb their love.
But now of this no whisper; not the less,
If ever an obtrusive word were dropped
Touching the matter of his passion, still,
In his stern father's hearing, Vaudracour
Persisted openly that death alone
Should abrogate his human privilege
Divine, of swearing everlasting truth,
Upon the altar, to the Maid he loved.

'You shall be baffled in your mad intent

If there be justice in the court of France,'

Muttered the Father.-From these words the Youth Conceived a terror; and, by night or day,

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Stirred nowhere without weapons, that full soon
Found dreadful provocation: for at night,
When to his chamber he retired, attempt
Was made to seize him by three armèd men,
Acting, in furtherance of the father's will,
Under a private signet of the State.
One the rash Youth's ungovernable hand
Slew, and as quickly to a second gave
A perilous wound-he shuddered to behold
The breathless corse; then peacefully resigned
His person to the law, was lodged in prison,
And wore the fetters of a criminal.

Have you observed a tuft of winged seed
That, from the dandelion's naked stalk,
Mounted aloft, is suffered not to use
Its natural gifts for purposes of rest,

Driven by the autumnal whirlwind to and fro
Through the wide element? or have you marked
The heavier substance of a leaf-clad bough,

Within the vortex of a foaming flood,
Tormented? by such aid you may conceive
The perturbation that ensued;-ah, no!

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Desperate the Maid-the Youth is stained with blood; Unmatchable on earth is their disquiet!

Yet as the troubled seed and tortured bough
Is Man, subjected to despotic sway.

For him, by private influence with the Court,
Was pardon gained, and liberty procured;
But not without exaction of a pledge,
Which liberty and love dispersed in air.

He flew to her from whom they would divide him—
He clove to her who could not give him peace-
Yea, his first word of greeting was,-' All right
Is gone from me; my lately-towering hopes,

To the least fibre of their lowest root,
Are withered; thou no longer canst be mine,

I thine the conscience-stricken must not woo
The unruffled Innocent,—I see thy face,
Behold thee, and my misery is complete!'

One, are we not?' exclaimed the Maiden-'One,
For innocence and youth, for weal and woe?'
Then with the father's name she coupled words
Of vehement indignation; but the Youth
Checked her with filial meekness; for no thought
Uncharitable crossed his mind, no sense
Of hasty anger, rising in the eclipse
Of true domestic loyalty, did e'er
Find place within his bosom.-Once again
The persevering wedge of tyranny
Achieved their separation: and once more
Were they united, to be yet again
Disparted, pitiable lot! But here

A portion of the tale may well be left

In silence, though my memory could add

Much how the Youth, in scanty space of time,

Was traversed from without; much, too, of thoughts
That occupied his days in solitude

Under privation and restraint; and what,

Through dark and shapeless fear of things to come,
And what, through strong compunction for the past,
He suffered-breaking down in heart and mind!

Doomed to a third and last captivity,

His freedom he recovered on the eve

Of Julia's travail. When the babe was born,
Its presence tempted him to cherish schemes
Of future happiness. You shall return,
Julia,' said he,' and to your father's house

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Go with the child. You have been wretched; yet
The silver shower, whose reckless burthen weighs