But never can believe that he
Is false and fled away.

Ill acted part! ill acted part!
I knew his noble mind,

He could not break a trusting heart,
Nor leave his love behind;

Tell me yon sun will cease to rise,
Or stars at night to gem the skies,
I may believe such lay;

But never can believe that he
Is false and fled away.

Can it be so? O, surely no!
Must I perforce believe
That he I loved and trusted so,
Vowed only to deceive?

Heap coals of fire on this lone head,
Or in pure pity strike me dead,-
"Twere kindness, on the day
That tells me one I loved so well,
Is false, -is fled away!

XLVIII.

O, AGONY! KEEN AGONY.

O, AGONY ! keen agony,

For trusting heart, to find

That vows believed, were vows conceived

As light as summer wind.

O, agony fierce agony,

For loving heart to brook,

In one brief hour the withering power

Of unimpassioned look,

O, agony! deep agony,

For heart that's proud and high,
To learn of fate how desolate

It may be ere it die.

O, agony! sharp agony,

To find how loath to part

With the fickleness and faithlessness

That break a trusting heart!

XLIX.

THE SERENADE.

WAKE, lady, wake!

Dear heart, awake

From slumbers light;

For 'neath thy bower, at this still hour, In harness bright,

Lingers thine own true paramour,

And chosen knight !

Wake, lady, wake!

Wake, lady, wake!

For thy loved sake,

Each trembling star

Smiles from on high with its clear eye, While nobler far

Yon silvery shield lights earth and sky;

How good they are!

Wake, lady, wake!

Rise, lady, rise !

Not star-filled skies

I worship now,

A fairer shrine I trust is mine

For loyal vow :

O that the living stars would shine
That light thy brow!

Rise, lady, rise !

Rise, lady, rise,

Ere war's rude cries

Fright land and sea !

To-morrow's light sees mail-sheathed knight, Even hapless me,

Careering through the bloody fight

Afar from thee!

Rise, lady, rise!

Mute, lady, mute?

I have no lute,

Nor rebeck small

To soothe thine ear with lay sincere,
Or Madrigal;

With helm on head and hand on spear,
On thee I call!

Mute, lady, mute!

Mute, lady, mute

To love's fond suit?

I'll not complain,

Since underneath thy balmy breath
I may remain

One brief hour more ere I seek death
On battle plain !

Mute, lady, mute!

Sleep, lady, sleep!

While watch I keep

Till dawn of day:

But o'er the wold now morning cold

Shines icy grey ;

While the plain gleams with steel and gold,

And chargers neigh!

Sleep, lady, sleep!

Sleep, lady, sleep!

Nor wake to weep

For heart-struck me :

These trumpets knell my last farewell
To love and thee !

When next they sound, 'twill be to tell
I died for thee !

Sleep, lady, sleep!

L.

COULD LOVE IMPART.

COULD love impart,

By nicest art,

To speechless rocks a tongue,—
Their theme would be,

Beloved, of thee,—

Thy beauty, all their song.

And, clerklike, then,

With sweet amen,

Would echo from each hollow

Reply all day;

While gentle fay,

With merry whoop, would follow.

Had roses sense,

On no pretence

Would they their buds unroll;

For, could they speak,
"Twas from thy cheek

Their daintiest blush they stole.

Had lilies eyes,

With glad surprise

They'd own themselves outdone,

When thy pure brow

And neck of snow

Gleamed in the morning sun.

Could shining brooks,

By amorous looks,

Be taught a voice so rare,
Then, every sound

That murmured round Would whisper, "Thou art fair!”

Could winds be fraught

With pensive thought

At midnight's solemn hour,
Then every wood,

In gleeful mood,

Would own thy beauty's power!

And, could the sky

Behold thine eye,

So filled with love and light,

In jealous haste,

Thou soon wert placed

To star, the cope of Night!