So that, departing at the evening's close, She says, "She may be saved! she nothing knows!" Poor Jane, the cunning sorceress ! III. Now rings the bell, nine times reverberating, Queen of a day, by flatterers caressed, The one puts on her cross and crown, The other, blind, within her little room, And, 'neath her bodice of bright scarlet dye, The one, fantastic, light as air, 'Mid kisses ringing, And joyous singing, Forgets to say her morning prayer! The other, with cold drops upon her brow, And then the orphan, young and blind, . Towards the church, through paths unscanned, And in the sky as yet no sunny ray, Near that castle, fair to see, And proud of its name of high degree, At the base of the rock is builded there; Above each jealous cottage-roof, Its sacred summit, swept by autumn gales, "Paul, lay thy noisy rattle by!" Thus Margaret said. "Where are we? we ascend !" "Yes; seest thou not our journey's end? Hearest not the osprey from the belfry cry' ? The night we watched beside his bed, Take care of Paul; I feel that I am dying!' Come in! The bride will be here soon: Thou tremblest! O my God! thou art going to swoon!" She could no more, the blind girl, weak and weary! A voice seemed crying from that grave so dreary, "What wouldst thou do, my daughter?"—and she started; And quick recoiled, aghast, faint-hearted; But Paul, impatient, urges ever more Her steps towards the open door; And when beneath her feet the unhappy maid Suspended from the low-arched portal, At length the bell, With booming sound, Sends forth, resounding round, Its hymeneal peal o'er rock and down the dell. For soon arrives the bridal train, And with it brings the village throng. In sooth, deceit maketh no mortal gay, And Angela thinks of her cross, I wis; To be a bride is all! The pretty lisper Feels her heart swell to hear all round her whisper, "How beautiful! how beautiful she is!" But she must calm that giddy head, At the holy table stands the priest; The wedding-ring is blessed; Baptiste receives it; Ere on the finger of the bride he leaves it, "Tis spoken; and sudden at the groomsman's side, ""Tis he!" a well-known voice has cried. And while the wedding guests all hold their breath, That, ere the fatal stroke descended, At eve, instead of bridal verse, No where was a smile that day, No, ah no! for each one seemed to say: "The roads should mourn and be veiled in gloom, So fair a corpse shall leave its home! Should mourn and should weep, ah, well-away! |