45. Across her shoulders was a hammock flung, The open meshes, when she moves, display Even for excess of joy, with eager cries 46. At that unwonted call with quicken'd pace The matron hurried thither, half in fear. How strange to Monnema a stranger's face! How strange it was a stranger's voice to hear, How strangely to her disaccustom'd ear Came even the accents of her native tongue! But when she saw her countrymen appear, Tears for that unexpected blessing sprung, And once again she felt as if her heart were young. 47. Soon was her melancholy story told, And think they hear his step, and chide his long delay 48. He comes at length, a happy man, to find No chilling forethought checks his bliss; the past Is change and wonder and delight. How fast Hath busy fancy conjured up a sum Of joys unknown, whereof the expectance makes him dumb. 49. O happy day, the Messenger of Heaven Hath found them in their lonely dwelling place! O happy day, to them it would be given To share in that Eternal Mother's grace, And one day see in heaven her glorious face Where Angels round her mercy-throne adore! Now shall they mingle with the human race, Sequester'd from their fellow-kind no more; O joy of joys supreme! O bliss for them in store! 50. Full of such hopes this night they lay them down, The peace wherewith till now they have been blest With dreams that to the wakeful mind belong; To Mooma and the youth then first the night seem'd long. 51. Day comes, and now a first and last farewell To mingle with the world, . . . but not to know ... Its crimes, nor to partake its cares, nor feel its woe. |