And as he thus over his passion hung, bright Smile through an in-door lattice, all delight. XXVI 'Love, Isabel!' said he, 'I was in pain Lest I should miss to bid thee a good morrow: Ah! what if I should lose thee, when so fain I am to stifle all the heavy sorrow Their horses homeward, with convulsed spur, Each richer by his being a murderer. XXIX They told their sister how, with sudden speed, Lorenzo had ta'en ship for foreign lands, Because of some great urgency and need In their affairs, requiring trusty hands. Poor Girl! put on thy stifling widow's weed, And 'scape at once from Hope's accursed bands; Of a poor three hours' absence? but we 'll To-day thou wilt not see him, nor to-morrow, And the next day will be a day of sorrow. gain 'Ha! ha!' said she, 'I knew not this hard life, I thought the worst was simple misery; I thought some Fate with pleasure or with strife Portion'd us happy days, or else to die; Pitying each form that hungry Death hath marr'd, And filling it once more with human soul? Ah! this is holiday to what was felt But there is crime -a brother's bloody When Isabella by Lorenzo knelt. |