Miscellaneous Poems | Page 5

party's chief,
And dark and dreadful was his look;

His presence fill'd my heart with grief,
Although to me he kindly
spoke.
With Aaron I delighted went,
His favour was my bliss and pride;
In
growing hope our days we spent,
Love's growing charms in either
spied;
It saw them all which Nature lent,
It lent them all which she
denied.
Could I the father's kindness prize,
Or grateful looks on him bestow,

Whom I beheld in wrath arise,
When Aaron sunk beneath his
blow?
He drove him down with wicked hand,
It was a dreadful sight to see;

Then vex'd him, till he left the land,
And told his cruel love to me;

The clan were all at his command,
Whatever his command might
be.

The night was dark, the lanes were deep,
And one by one they took
their way;
He bade me lay me down and sleep,
I only wept and
wish'd for day.
Accursed be the love he bore,
Accursed was the force he used,
So
let him of his God implore
For mercy, and be so refused!
You frown again,--to show my wrong
Can I in gentle language speak?

My woes are deep, my words are strong, -
And hear me, or my
heart will break.
MAGISTRATE.
I hear thy words, I feel thy pain;
Forbear awhile to speak thy woes;

Receive our aid, and then again
The story of thy life disclose.
For, though seduced and led astray,
Thou'st travell'd far and wander'd
long;
Thy God hath seen thee all the way,
And all the turns that led
thee wrong.
PART II.
Quondam ridentes oculi, nunc fonte perenni
Deplorant poenas nocte
dieque suas.
CORNEILLE.

MAGISTRATE.
Come, now again thy woes impart,
Tell all thy sorrows, all thy sin;

We cannot heal the throbbing heart
Till we discern the wounds
within.
Compunction weeps our guilt away,
The sinner's safety is his pain;

Such pangs for our offences pay,
And these severer griefs are gain.

VAGRANT.
The son came back--he found us wed,
Then dreadful was the oath he
swore;
His way through Blackburn Forest led, -
His father we
beheld no more.
Of all our daring clan not one
Would on the doubtful subject dwell;

For all esteem'd the injured son,
And fear'd the tale which he could
tell.
But I had mightier cause for fear,
For slow and mournful round my
bed
I saw a dreadful form appear, -
It came when I and Aaron wed.
Yes! we were wed, I know my crime, -
We slept beneath the elmin
tree;
But I was grieving all the time,
And Aaron frown'd my tears to
see.
For he not yet had felt the pain
That rankles in a wounded breast;

He waked to sin, then slept again,
Forsook his God, yet took his rest.
But I was forced to feign delight,
And joy in mirth and music sought,
-
And mem'ry now recalls the night,
With such surprise and horror
fraught,
That reason felt a moment's flight,
And left a mind to
madness wrought.
When waking, on my heaving breast
I felt a hand as cold as death:

A sudden fear my voice suppress'd,
A chilling terror stopp'd my
breath.
I seem'd--no words can utter how!
For there my father-husband stood,

And thus he said: --"Will God allow,
The great Avenger just and
Good,
A wife to break her marriage vow?
A son to shed his father's
blood?"
I trembled at the dismal sounds,
But vainly strove a word to say;
So,
pointing to his bleeding wounds,
The threat'ning spectre stalk'd away.

I brought a lovely daughter forth,
His father's child, in Aaron's bed;

He took her from me in his wrath,
"Where is my child?"--"Thy child
is dead."
'Twas false--we wander'd far and wide,
Through town and country,
field and fen,
Till Aaron, fighting, fell and died,
And I became a
wife again.
I then was young: --my husband sold
My fancied charms for wicked
price;
He gave me oft for sinful gold,
The slave, but not the friend
of vice: -
Behold me, Heaven! my pains behold,
And let them for
my sins suffice.
The wretch who lent me thus for gain,
Despised me when my youth
was fled;
Then came disease, and brought me pain: -
Come, Death,
and bear me to the dead!
For though I grieve, my grief is vain,
And
fruitless all the tears I shed.
True, I was not to virtue train'd,
Yet well I knew my deeds were ill;

By each offence my heart was pain'd
I wept, but I offended still;

My better thoughts my life disdain'd,
But yet the viler led my will.
My husband died, and now no more
My smile was sought, or ask'd
my hand,
A widow'd vagrant, vile and poor,
Beneath a vagrant's
vile command.
Ceaseless I roved the country round,
To win my bread by fraudful
arts,
And long a poor subsistence found,
By spreading nets for
simple hearts.
Though poor, and abject, and despised,
Their fortunes to the crowd I
told;
I gave the young the love they prized,
And promised wealth to
bless the old.
Schemes for the doubtful I devised,
And charms for
the forsaken sold.

At length for arts like these confined
In prison with a lawless crew,

I soon perceived a kindred mind,
And there my long-lost daughter
knew;
His father's child, whom Aaron gave
To wander with a distant clan,

The miseries of