Theodora.

In vain! they could not overcome !

Crush'd, tortured, torn, and wrung, Still to their lacerated home

The bleeding tendrils clung.

And then they parted: and o'er him

A dream-like wonder came;

All things seem'd doubtful, changed, and

dim,

And yet they were the same;

And wild and melancholy fits

His strength of soul o'erpower,

Like some dark shapeless bird that flits

At twilight's ghostful hour.

But she? Oh, dare not to intrude

Upon that place apart,

Where weeps in wordless solitude

Her meek and drooping heart!

Grief is a holy thing, unmeet
For man's profaning eyes;
Hers was too deep for solace sweet
In kindliest sympathies.

Withdrawn within her quiet home,

Obedient and alone,

The woe she might not overcome,

She still might keep unknown : That stream of purest love but show'd Its passage underground,

By fertilising, as it flow'd,

The flowery earth around.

Kind deeds and calm benevolence,

These were her sole employ ; Those blessings freely to dispense Herself might not enjoy ;

While still her spirit hover'd near

One well-remember'd door,

Abra; or, the Georgian Sultana.

Gay motley'd pinks and sweet jonquils she chose;
The violet blue that on the moss-bank grows;
All sweet to sense, the flaunting rose was there;
The finish'd chaplet well adorn'd her hair.

Great Abbas chanced that fated morn to stray,
By love conducted from the chase away;
Among the vocal vales he heard her song,
And sought the vales and echoing groves among ;
At length he found, and woo'd the rural maid;
She knew the monarch, and with fear obey'd.
"Be every youth like royal Abbas moved,
And every Georgian maid like Abra loved!"

Yet, 'midst the blaze of courts, she fix'd her love
On the cool fountain, or the shady grove;
Still, with the shepherd's innocence, her mind
To the sweet vale and flowery mead inclined;
And oft as spring renew'd the plains with flowers,
Breath'd his soft gales, and led the fragrant hours,
With sure return she sought the sylvan scene,
The breezy mountains, and the forests green.
Her maids around her moved, a duteous band;

Each bore a crook, all rural, in her hand :
Some simple lay, of flocks and herds, they sung;
With joy the mountain and the forest rung.

"Be every youth like royal Abbas moved,

And every Georgian maid like Abra loved!"