SONNET. 509 



quiry into the affair. My distracted parents could not utter a word, 

 and may God forgive me ! I declared our belief, our firm persua- 

 sion, that you had no hand in this horrid crime ; that we were certain 

 it was the act of banditti, for whom search is making. Go live and 

 repent/' 



" To you, kind Englishman," continued the Miller, after a pause, 

 " to yow I venture to tell all this. I think you will pity me. I never 

 beheld Pomasina again. She is a nun in a convent at Madrid. From 

 this fatal affair I date the commencement of all my misfortunes, my 

 crimes, if you will. Had Pomasina been permitted to become my 

 wife, I should never have proved the unfortunate wretch you see be- 

 fore you." 



I retired to the couch, which had been prepared for me, my gun 

 by my side, and I quietly slipped a ball into each barrel over the usual 

 charge. But there was not any danger. This man, murderer as he 

 is, would not shed the blood of a guest. I slept soundly. Early on 

 the following morning I was off again in pursuit of another day's 

 sport. J. W. 



SONNET: TO ZENOBIA. 



()p Tadmor's queen by night and day I think, 



Brought to this musing by a matchless maide, 



Who ne'er to me a word of love hath saide ; 



Yet, through her glance I am on Sappho's brink. 



She has the name Palmyra's queen once bore 



The dauntless foe that tamed Aurelian's pride, 



And rul'd the city of the desert wide; 



And Syria own'd her lord, and countries more 



Knewe well her conqueringe force. Such is my love, 



And such her beautie fair that few her see 



But fall down charm'd, and worship silently, 



Sweet beautie's essente is my own pure dove. 



Earth's other gifts I reckon would as nought, 



Were she but mine the maid that rules each thought. 



