Armine and Elvira ♦ 
475 
s Tis then the mind, from bondage free s 
And all its former weakness o’er, 
Asserts its native dignity, 
And scorns what folly priz’d before* 
The scanty pane, the rising ray 
On the plain wall in diamonds threw ; 
The lover hail’d the welcome day, 
And to his fav’rite scene he flew. 
There soon Elvira bent her way, 
Where long her lonely walks had been, 
Nor less had the preceding day, 
Nor Armine less endear’d the scene* 
Oft, as she pass’d, her rising heart 
Its strongest tenderness confes’d, 
And oft she lingered to impart, 
To some soft shade, her secret breast* 
u How slow the heavy hours advance/ 3 
She cryM, « since that eventful day, 
“ When first I caught the fatal glance^ 
a That stole me from myself away ! 
“ Ah ! youth belov’d ! tho* low thy birth, 
u The noble air, the manly grace, 
u That look, that speaks superior worth, 
u Can fashion, folly, fear, erase ? 
“ Y et sure from no ignoble stem 
“ Thy lineage springs, though now unknown i 
“ The world censorious may condemn, 
“ But, Armine, I am thine alone. 
“To splendour only do we live ? 
“ Must pomp alone our thoughts employ l 
“ All, all that pomp and splendour give 
“ Is dearly bought with love and joy ! 
“ But oh !— the favour’d youth appears— 
“ In pensive grief he seems to move ; 
“ My heart forebodes unnumber’d fears ; 
“ Support it, pity, virtue, love ! 
“ Hither his foot-steps seem to bend— 
“ Come, resolution, to my aid l 
Vol. III. 3 N 
