That sometimes from the savage Den, In green and sunny Glade, There came, and look'd him in the face, This miserable Knight ! a And how, unknowing what he did, The Lady of the Land; And how she wept and clasp'd his knees, The Scorn, that craz'd his Brain : And that she nurs’d him in a Cave; A dying Man he lay; His dying words—but when I reach'd Disturb’d her Soul with Pity! All Impulses of Soul and Sense The rich and balmy Eve; And Hopes, and Fears that kindle Hope, Subdued and cherish'd long ! She wept with pity and delight, I heard her breathe my name. Her bosom heav’d-she stepp'd aside ; As conscious of my Look, she stepp'd Then suddenly with timorous eye She fled to me and wept. She half inclosed me with her arms, a She press'd me with a meek embrace ; And gaz'd upon my face. 'Twas partly Love, and partly Fear, The Swelling of her Heart, I calm'd her fears ; and she was calm, And told her love with virgin Pride, And so I won my Genevieve, My bright and beauteous Bride! The MAD MOTHER Her eyes are wild, her head is bare, |