Again my spirit bore me to the youth's
Lone study, where I saw him pacing to
And fro, with heavy step and downcast look.
His eye was fixed and dull--all smiles had fled,
And o'er his pallid, bloodless cheek had woe
His sable mantle flung. But whilst he thus
Was moved, anon there entered one endeared
By Friendship's strongest ties, who knew the fate
His fondest hopes had met, and told a tale
Of which he deemed not aught before--a tale
That scarce at first could credence gain, so dread
Its import was; yet soon he found 'twas but
Too true--"His sacred letter, ere it reached
Its destined port, had by some strange mischance
Been torn, its secrets filched and heralded
Abroad: yet, by the wakeful kindness of
That much-loved one, his hallowed thoughts had reached
The ears of few." Then sudden o'er him came
A fearful mood that shook his every limb.
Like liquid fire his blood along his veins
Did course, and to his throbbing temples mount--
Then rush tumultuous back upon his heart
That sent it once again with quickened speed
Along his swollen, well-nigh bursting veins;
And from his lips at times did fall unmeet
And vengeful words, that told what passion stirred
Within. But that soon passed, and to the eye
His troubled soul, as that of infant hushed
To sleep upon its mother's breast, was calm.