Of something— not yet comfort — stole 



Upon his heart's stern misery ; 

 And his lips moved, " Poor loving fool ! 



Then all have not abandoned me." 



The hour by grudging kindness spared 



Expired too soon — the friends must part- 



And Nina from the prison fared, 



With lingering pace and heavy heart. 



Shelter, and rest, and food she found 

 With one who, for the master's sake, 



Though grim suspicion stalked around, 

 Dared his old servant home to take. 



Beneath that friendly roof each night 

 She stayed, but still returning day — 



Ay, the first beam of dawning light — 

 Beheld her on her anxious way 



Towards the prison, there to wait 



The hour, when through that dismal door 



The keeper, half compassionate, 

 Should bid her enter as before. 



And well she seemed to comprehend 

 The time apportioned for her stay : 



The little hour that with her friend 

 She tarried then, was all her day. 

 J 54 



