While, blithe as lark on summer-morn, Though many a drop may yet be seen And feigning, as they grew in size, St. Pierre sat by, nor saw nor smiled. And his heart told him he had dealt Unkindly with his child. A father may a while refuse; But who can for another choose? When her young blushes had revealed The ocean-wave, the mountain-wind; *Cantando "Io amo! Io amo!"-TASSo. Or, fix thy foot upon the ground The light was on his face; and there You might have seen the passions driven Resentment, Pity, Hope, DespairLike clouds across the face of Heaven. Now he sighed heavily; and now, His hand withdrawing from his brow, He shut the volume with a frown, To walk his troubled spirit down: -When (faithful as that dog of yore" Who wagged his tail and could no more) Manchon, who long had snuffed the ground, And sought and sought, but never found, Leapt up and to the casement flew, And looked and barked, and vanished through. ""T is Jacqueline! 'Tis Jacqueline ! " Her little brother laughing cried. "I know her by her kirtle green, She comes along the mountain-side; Now turning by the traveller's seat,Now resting in the hermit's cave,— Now kneeling, where the pathways meet, To the cross on the stranger's grave. And, by the soldier's cloak, I know (There, there along the ridge they go) D'Arcy, so gentle and so brave! Look up why will you not?" he cries, up His rosy hands before his eyes; For on that incense-breathing eve * Argus. She calls, she faints, and D'Arcy springs; Who, for you told me on your knee, And true it was! And true the tale! My father-if not for his own, Inly he vowed-'t was all he could; They loved but under Friendship's name; And Reason, Virtue fanned the flame, Till in their houses Discord came, And 't was a crime to love. Called in the language of the country Pas-de-l'Echelle Then what was Jacqueline to do? III. THAT morn ('t was in Ste. Julienne's cell, As at Ste. Julienne's sacred well Their dream of love began) That morn, ere many a star was set, Before the holy man. -And now, her strength, her courage spent, She comes along the path she went. So saying, through the fragrant shade Gently along he led the maid, While Manchon round and round her played: And, as that silent glen they leave, Where by the spring the pitchers stand, Where glow-worms light their little lamps at eve, And fairies revel as in fairy-land (When Lubin calls, and Blanche steals round, Her finger on her lip, to see; And many an acorn-cup is found Under the greenwood tree), They gather as they go Sabot, and coif, and collerette, The housewife's prayer, the grandame's blessing! Girls that adjust their locks of jet, And look and look and linger yet, The lovely bride caressing; |