Of flowing water soothes him, and the stars,
Which in that brightest moon-light well-nigh quenched, Scarce visible, as in the utmost depth
Of yonder sapphire infinite, are seen, Draw on with elevating influence
Toward eternity the attempered mind.
Musing on worlds beyond the grave he stands, And to the Virgin Mother silently
Breathes forth her hymn of praise.
Before the castle, round their mouldering fires, Lie on the hearth outstretched. Pelayo's hall Is full, and he upon his careful couch
Hears all around the deep and long-drawn breath Of sleep; for gentle night hath brought to these Perfect and undisturbed repose, alike
Of corporal powers and inward faculty. Wakeful the while he lay, yet more by hope Than grief or anxious thoughts possessed,..though grief For Guisla's guilt, which freshened in his heart The memory of their wretched mother's crime, Still made its presence felt, like the dull sense Of some perpetual inward malady;
And the whole peril of the future lay
Before him clearly seen. He had heard all: How that unworthy sister, obstinate
In wrong and shameless, rather seemed to woo The upstart renegado than to wait His wooing; how, as guilt to guilt led on, Spurning at gentle admonition first, When Gaudiosa hopelessly forebore From farther counsel, then in sullen mood Resentful, Guisla soon began to hate The virtuous presence before which she felt Her nature how inferior, and her fault How foul. Despiteful thus she grew, because Humbled yet unrepentant. Who could say To what excess bad passions might impel A woman thus possessed? She could not fail To mark Siverian's absence, for what end Her conscience but too surely had divined; And Gaudiosa, well aware that all
To the vile paramour was thus made known, Had to safe hiding-place with timely fear
Removed her children. Well the event had proved How needful was that caution; for at night
She sought the mountain solitudes, and morn Beheld Numacian's soldiers at the gate. Yet did not sorrow in Pelayo's heart For this domestic shame prevail that hour, Nor gathering danger weigh his spirit down. The anticipated meeting put to flight
These painful thoughts: to-morrow will restore All whom his heart holds dear; his wife beloved, No longer now remembered for regret,
Is present to his soul with hope and joy; His inward eye beholds Favila's form In opening youth robust, and Hermesind, His daughter, lovely as a budding rose: Their images beguile the hours of night, fill with the earliest morning he may seek Their secret hold.
The nightingale not yet
Had ceased her song, nor had the early lark Her dewy nest forsaken, when the Prince Upward beside Pionia took his way
Toward Auseva. Heavily to him,
Impatient for the morrow's happiness,
Long night had lingered, but it seemed more long
To Roderick's aching heart. He too had watched For dawn, and seen the earliest break of day, And heard its earliest sounds; and when the Prince Went forth, the melancholy man was seen With pensive pace upon Pionia's side Wandering alone and slow. For he had left The wearying place of his unrest, that morn With its cold dews might bathe his throbbing brow, And with its breath allay the feverish heat That burnt within. Alas! the gales of morn Reach not the fever of a wounded heart!
How shall he meet his Mother's eye, how make His secret known, and from that voice revered Obtain forgiveness,.. all that he has now To ask, ere on the lap of earth in peace He lay his head resigned! In silent prayer He supplicated Heaven to strengthen him Against that trying hour, there seeking aid Where all who seek shall find; and thus his soul Received support, and gathered fortitude,
Never than now more needful, for the hour Was nigh. He saw Siverian drawing near, And with a dim but quick foreboding met
The good old man: yet when he heard him say, My Lady sends to seek thee, like a knell To one expecting and prepared for death, But fearing the dread point that hastens on, It smote his heart. He followed silently, And knit his suffering spirit to the proof.
He went resolved to tell his Mother all, Fall at her feet, and drinking the last dregs. Of bitterness, receive the only good
Earth had in store for him. Resolved for this He went; yet was it a relief to find That painful resolution must await
A fitter season, when no eye but Heaven's Might witness to their mutual agony.
Count Julian's daughter with Rusilla sate;
Both had been weeping, both were pale, but calm.
With head as for humility abased
Roderick approached, and bending, on his breast He crossed his humble arms. Rusilla rose
In reverence to the priestly character, And with a mournful eye regarding him,
Thus she began. Good Father, I have heard
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