Grim-hearted world, that look'st with Levite eyes On those poor fallen by too much faith in man, move She that upon thy freezing threshold lies, Starved to more sinning by thy sav- Beneath her breast, a refuge for her love. age ban, Seeking that refuge because foulest vice More godlike than thy virtue is, whose The earth must needs be doubly desolate | And the deep sky, full-hearted with the To him scarce parted from a fairer home : Such boding heavier on her bosom sate One night, as, standing in the twilight gloam, She strained her eyes beyond that dizzy verge At whose foot faintly breaks the future's surge. XIII. Poor little spirit! naught but shame and woe Nurse the sick heart whose lifeblood nurses thine: Yet not those only; love hath triumphed So, As for thy sake makes sorrow more divine: And yet, though thou be pure, the world is foe To purity, if born in such a shrine ; And, having trampled it for struggling thence, Smiles to itself, and calls it Providence. XIV. As thus she mused, a shadow seemed to rise From out her thought, and turn to dreariness All blissful hopes and sunny memories, And the quick blood would curdle up and press About her heart, which seemed to shut its eyes moon, Folds round her all the happiness of June. And hush itself, as who with shudder- The apathy, ere a crime resolved is done, ing guess Harks through the gloom and dreads e'en Is scarce less dreadful than remorse Into the sunshine; Mordred turned away, Weary because the stone face did not tell |