Classic Poem

XXI.

“‘Thou must in other pathways roam,
But sometimes think that once we met;
I seek my lonely cavern home,
There still to live, but not forget.’

XXII.

“The tinkling words were hardly said,
When sank the fountain's mournful daughter;
The youth, to grasp the form that fled,
Sprang shrieking down the fatal water.

XXIII.

“——Dear Jane, 'tis but a graceful tale,
To soothe and not oppress the mind;
But now that autumn shakes the dale,
I hear it moaned by every wind.

XXIV.

“And in the autumn's look I trace,
I know not why, a threatening stare,
Nor e'en thy dear and rosy face
Can disenchant the spell-bound air.

XXV.

“Yet well I know 'tis empty dream,
And vainer still the legend's voice,
For if too fond man's love may seem,
'Tis but by erring in the choice.

XXVI.

“Begone, ye fears that round us wait,
The soul's dim twilight hour possessing!
A Will beyond the Grecian Fate
Has given us love's unstinted blessing.”

XXVII.

Jane listened first with pensive gaze,
Then dread disturbed her seeking glance,
Though she but half could read the phrase
That told the heathen land's romance.

XXVIII.

But clear she saw, and truly felt,
That Henry was not well at ease;
'Twas not a grief obscurely spelt,
But plain as aught the spirit sees.

XXIX.

Her arms around his neck she threw,
Against his cheek her head she laid,
And he could feel the sigh she drew,
Could feel the passion of the maid.

XXX.

Then first upon her soul it broke
That Time their lives might sever;
From joy's illusive trance she woke,
And it was gone for ever: