Her brother’s eye her secret reads;
His fatal angers burn.
“Thou hast us shamed.” Her terror pleads,--
“He swore he would return.”
“But not to find thee, if he tries,
Where he was wont to find.”
Beneath her brother’s blow she dies;
A voice is on the wind:
_Ill fares the soul that sets its trust_
_On faith of dust._