Ah! who could deem that foot of Indian crew Was near?-yet there, with lust of murd'rous deeds, Gleam'd like a basilisk, from woods in view, The ambush'd foeman's eye-his volley speeds, And Albert-Albert-falls! the dear old father bleeds! XXVIII. And tranc'd in giddy horror Gertrude swoon'd; 'Heaven's peace commiserate; for scarce I heed 'These wounds;-yet thee to leave is death, is death indeed. 'Of fate! while I can feel thy drear caress; • And when this heart hath ceas'd to beat-oh! think, • And let it mitigate thy woe's excess, • That thou hast been to me all tenderness, • And friend to more than human friendship just. Oh! by that retrospect of happiness, And by the hopes of an immortal trust, 'God shall assuage thy pangs-when I am laid in dust! XXX. Go, Henry, go not back, when I depart, The scene thy bursting tears too deep will move, "Where my dear father took thee to his heart, And Gertrude thought it ecstacy to rove . With thee, as with an angel, through the grove • Of peace,-imagining her lot was cast 'In heav'n; for ours was not like earthly love. • And must this parting be our very last? • No! I shall love thee still, when death itself is past. XXXI. • Half could I bear, methinks, to leave this earth, • And thee, more lov'd, than aught beneath the sun, If I had liv'd to smile but on the birth Of one dear pledge;-but shall there then be none, • In future times-no gentle little one, To clasp thy neck, and look, resembling me! 'Yet seems it, ev'n while life's last pulses run, 'A sweetness in the cup of death to be, Lord of my bosom's love! to die beholding thee!' XXXII. Hush'd were his Gertrude's lips! but still their bland And beautiful expression seem'd to melt With love that could not die! and still his hand She presses to the heart no more that felt. Ah heart! where once each fond affection dwelt, Of them that stood encircling his despair, He heard some friendly words;-but knew not what they were. XXXIII. For now, to mourn their judge and child, arrives A faithful band. With solemn rites between, Touch'd by the music, and the melting scene, Was scarce one tearless eye amidst the crowd:- XXXIV. Then mournfully the parting bugle bid Its farewell o'er the grave of worth and truth; His face on earth;-him watch'd in gloomy ruth, He watch'd, beneath its folds, each burst that came Convulsive, ague-like across his shuddering frame! |