33. This hope supported Mooma, hand in hand To them had been their teacher's favourite theme, Life, death, and all things else, a shadow or a dream. 34. Yea, so possest with that best hope were they, That if the heavens had opened overhead, And the Archangel with his trump that day To judgement had convoked the quick and dead, They would have heard the summons not with dread, But in the joy of faith that knows no fear; Come Lord! come quickly! would this pair have said, And thou O Queen of men and Angels dear, Lift us whom thou hast loved into thy happy sphere! 35. They wept not at the grave, though overwrought With feelings there as if the heart would break. Some haply might have deem'd they suffer'd not; Yet they who look'd upon that Maiden meek Might see what deep emotion blanched her cheek. An inward light there was which fill'd her eyes, And told, more forcibly than words could speak, That this disruption of her earliest ties Had shaken mind and frame in all their faculties, 36. It was not passion only that disturb'd In its first force, that shook the Maiden so, Though these alone might that frail fabric overthrow. 37. The seeds of death were in her at that hour, Soonwas their quick'ning and their growth display'd; Thenceforth she droop'd and wither'd like a flower, Which when it flourish'd in its native shade Some child to his own garden hath convey'd, And planted in the sun, to pine away. Thus was the gentle Mooma seen to fade, Not under sharp disease, but day by day Losing the powers of life in visible decay. 38. The sunny hue that tinged her cheek was gone, The light of joy which in her eyes had shone, Grew dim; but when she raised her heavy head And her sad smile of thankfulness would wake Grief even in callous hearts for that sweet sufferer's sake. 39. How had Yeruti borne to see her fade? His darling thought by day, his dream by night, 40. Well was it for the youth, and well for her, As there in placid helplessness she lay, He was not present with his love to stir Emotions that might shake her feeble clay, And rouse up in her heart a strong array Of feelings, hurtful only when they bind To earth the soul that soon must pass away. But this was spared them; and no pain of mind To trouble her had she, instinctively resign'd. 41. Nor was there wanting to the sufferers aught The affliction; for the universal thought That the good Saints their healing would impart, Breathed in that maid's behalf from many a tender heart. 42. And vows were made for her, if vows might save; From this obstructive flesh to take her flight 43. Her heart was there, and there she felt and knew Sometimes she spake with short and hurried breath Even with a lover's hope she lay and look'd for death. 44. I said that for herself the patient maid Preferr❜d no prayer; but oft her feeble tongue And feebler breath a voice of praise essay'd; And duly when the vesper bell was rung, Her evening hymn in faint accord she sung So piously, that they who gathered round Awe-stricken on her heavenly accents hung, As though they thought it were no mortal sound, But that the place whereon they stood was holy ground. 45. At such an hour when Dobrizhoffer stood And this fair Mooma, was she form'd to fade 46. Yet he had no misgiving at the sight; And wherefore should he? he had acted well, So blithesome late? What marvel if tears fell, She saw 47. him weep, and she could understand The cause thus tremulously that made him speak. By his emotion moved she took his hand; A gleam of pleasure o'er her pallid cheek Past, while she look'd at him with meaning meek, And for a little while, as loth to part, Detaining him, her fingers lank and weak, Play'd with their hold; then letting him depart She gave him a slow smile that touch'd him to the heart. |