1

Soft without mercy-without grace producing
The ends of heaven from your hearts' hatefulness,
As genial warmth glows far, while the live furnace
Burns inward fiercely still. For shame, ye curs'd;
Forget not your immitigable doom,

Draw the fell purpose from the blighted hope-
Be stern and unsubdued, as ye are hapless-
As ye are fated, fatal. If ye wear

The form of beauty, or the smile of love,
Remember what they cover still, and are
The sunbeam on the lake of bitterness-
The bloom that tempteth on the poison-fruit-
The mask of malice unsubdued-of wo
Eternal, unreprieved: For what avails

This low subsolar world, with all its charms,
To ease your fate's despair? Shall they not fleet?
Suns, stars, and sparkling waters, and gay shores;

Pomps, powers, and pleasures ;—all that glads the heart,
Or wins the curious eye or craving sense;

Shall they not perish, in one moment strewn
Upon that void wave of nonentity,

In which your own grim prison star alone
Travels its endless way, with its sad crew
From deep to blacker deep,-where it shall be
My task to inflict far heavier wo than this
Derided exhortation ?

How livid consternation's many hues

Cloud your scarr'd brows with fear's deformity!
I love to gaze upon you thus, and muse
In calmness upon things which angels fear.
Yet oft, methinks, when I behold you thus
Crouch, terror shaken, at the name of that
Ye must substantially endure, I feel
Strange pity touch my bosom's adamant,
To see how lost ye are, and could nigh weep
Over your hopeless state, as the lone granite
Pours down the night dews o'er the desert sands,
As if to weep o'er their sterility,

With softness not its own. Alas! weak fiends,
Pleasure and soft forgetfulness are idle,

As dreams which change not the sad waking truth.
And coward shrinking magnifies the evil
Which ever lessens as the heart expands,
And the soul gathers dignity from daring.

Soft without mercy-without grace producing
The ends of heaven from your hearts' hatefulness,
As genial warmth glows far, while the live furnace
Burns inward fiercely still. For shame, ye curs'd;
Forget not your immitigable doom,

Draw the fell purpose from the blighted hope-
Be stern and unsubdued, as ye are hapless-
As ye are fated, fatal. If ye wear

The form of beauty, or the smile of love,
Remember what they cover still, and are
The sunbeam on the lake of bitterness-
The bloom that tempteth on the poison-fruit-
The mask of malice unsubdued-of wo
Eternal, unreprieved: For what avails

This low subsolar world, with all its charms,
To ease your fate's despair? Shall they not fleet?
Suns, stars, and sparkling waters, and gay shores;
Pomps, powers, and pleasures ;-all that glads the heart,
Or wins the curious eye or craving sense;

Shall they not perish, in one moment strewn
Upon that void wave of nonentity,

In which your own grim prison star alone
Travels its endless way, with its sad crew
From deep to blacker deep,-where it shall be
My task to inflict far heavier wo than this
Derided exhortation?

How livid consternation's many hues

Cloud your scarr'd brows with fear's deformity!
I love to gaze upon you thus, and muse
In calmness upon things which angels fear.
Yet oft, methinks, when I behold you thus
Crouch, terror shaken, at the name of that
Ye must substantially endure, I feel
Strange pity touch my bosom's adamant,
To see how lost ye are, and could nigh weep
Over your hopeless state, as the lone granite
Pours down the night dews o'er the desert sands,
As if to weep o'er their sterility,

With softness not its own. Alas! weak fiends,
Pleasure and soft forgetfulness are idle,

As dreams which change not the sad waking truth.
And coward shrinking magnifies the evil
Which ever lessens as the heart expands,
And the soul gathers dignity from daring.

The tyrant danger but subdues the weak-
The fiery war-steed which the timid fears,
Bears on the brave with answering exultation
Into the storm of strife, with heart prepared
To dally with the thunder of the fight.

There is an hour mark'd in the page of doom,
When ye shall court the thing ye shudder at.
When death's wide portals, opening widest-last—
Send forth their bony inmate to collect

The gleaning of life's harvest-ye shall envy
That common refuge from the judgment-seat,
Where mercy's self, array'd in light too pure
For sin to look on, bids all hope depart.
But, 'tis enough-Ye may retire. These thoughts
May fitlier sooth his loneliness, to whom
Terror is as a slave. Be diligent

Each in his proper station, and obedient
To watch and win-be prompt at every call ;-
Wear pleasure as a mask, and not a chain;
Be men your victims, not your flatterers.
In all things view the end: That, perishing,
Vengeance may smile upon your fall-and mingle
Triumph with your despair. Hence! away!

SECTION XCIV.

ALBERTO-THEODORE.....Anonymous.

Alberto. ENTER and fear not, trembler. Thou shalt

Theo. If it pleased heaven, most willingly. I know That I'm a prisoner. I shall never walk

In the sun's blessed light, or feel the touch
Of the free air, or hear the summer brook
All idly babbling to the moon, or taste

The morning breath of flowers. The thousand charms
Which make in our Sicilian isle mere life

A thrilling pleasantness, which send a glow
Through the poorest serf that tills the happy soil—
I am shut out from all. This is my tomb.
Uncle, be merciful! I do not ask

My throne again. Reign! reign! I have forgot
That I was once a king. But let me bide

In some small woodland cottage, where green leaves
May wave around me, and cool breezes kiss
My brow. Keep me not in a dungeon, uncle,
Of this dark gloomy chamber. Let me dwell
In some wild forest. I'll not breathe a word
That might be dangerous. No! not to the birds
My songsters, or the fawns my playmates, uncle.
Thou ne'er shalt hear of me again.

Alb.

Boy! boy!

Thou wilt have mercy ;

'Tis too late. To reign,

And he at liberty! I am a child

Myself, that, won by this child's gentleness,
I seemed to waver. Boy, thy fate is fixed;
Thyself hast said it. Thou'rt a prisoner,
And for thy whole life long; a caged bird.
Be wiser than the feathered fool that beats
His wings against the wire. Thou shalt have all
Thy heart can ask, save freedom, and that never!
I tell thee so in love, and not in hate;

For I would root out hope and fear, and plant
Patience in thy young soul.

Rest thee content. No harm shall happen thee.

[Exit Alberto.
Theo. Content! Oh mockery of grief! content!
Was't not enough to take away my crown,
To mew me up here in a living tomb,
Cut off from human ties; but my jailer

Must bid me be content! Would I were dead!
Forgive me, Heaven, for my impatience!
I will take better thoughts. "Tis but to fancy
This room a quiet hermitage, and pray
As hermits use through the long silent hours.
I shall be innocent. Sure, he's a friend
That shuts me out from sin. Did he not call me
A caged bird? I've seen one prune himself,