806.] Original Poetry. oe 537 
Now, with her parricidal hand, the tried 
To turn away the (till. returning tide 3 
Now, clofe purfu’d by an imagin’d ghot, 
“6 Help’ help! the cried, ** Alvaro! or ?m 
loft | 
See, fee, oh fee my angry feo glare! 
See the fharp fteel ! toh God! Shae fizht is 
there! ° 
The fame with which I 
life !?? 
Then would the bend, as if to fhun the knife 
In fancy lifted—but oh agony ! 
She canno: fhun hier foul 5 fhe cannot fly 
From thofe fell damons that ler heart cor- 
ftabb’d his precious 
rode 3 
All paints her crime—all. marks avenging 
God, 
Hell yawns—Heav’n thundersethe hot bolt 
is fent— 
Could God forgive, her foul would ne’er re- 
lent ! 
Sometimes fhe hopes; fhe bends her knees 
to pray; 
She clafps her hands—defpairs ; 3 and turns 
away— 
Avenging Godo’erwhelms her with difmay. 
Yet not unoften, in her maddeft mood, 
She, ftopp’d, obfervant, where the gloomy 
wood 
Of cyprefs join’d the elm’s majeftic fhade, 
And round the village-church a fhelter made. 
It feem’das if a fecret viewlefs force, 
Awful, yet foothing to her foul’s remorfe, 
Here led her on—pbut then afudden fear 
And horror feiz’d her, if fhe ventur’d near, 
Yet once, as round the pale fhe dat’d to 
‘ {tray , 
A fimple peafant met her on the way, 
Whofe holy afpeét fix’d her roving fight. 
Milo were his features ; and his vifage bright 
Beam’d inward peace, and fellowfhip with 
Heav'n, 
Which Goa’s appointed minifter had giv’n. 
Surpris’é, encoutag’d, hoping, fhe draws 
nigh; 
She enters ; fhe advances filently ; 
Her trembling eyes now venture to endure 
The fight of that tribunal, juft and pure, 
By true repentance ever open found. 
She gaz’d with tears of anguiih wildly round— 
*« That Judge fevere whofe holy throne I 
fee 
May mercy grant to all—but none to me !” 
A venerable man, with age grown white, 
The paftor of the church, now met her fight, 
Whofe ufeful days, thro’ forty fummers, ran 
In piety to God, and Jove to man: 
All fhar’d his bounty, none his juftice fear’d 5 
Lov’d in his hamlet, in his church rever’d, 
His manners preacl’d; his fair example 
taught ; 
And warm’d the heart, and fan@ified the 
thought— 
The child and parent blefs their ftrengtken’d 
tie, 
And e’en the infant, as he paffes by, 
Montury Mac. No, 144, 
« 
Extends his little hand in playful guile, 
And hang: delighted on the good-tnan’s fmile, 
Of fad remorfe partaker. firm and fure 5 
The truf of finners, yet himfelf moft pure 5 
Like fone proud mountain whofe exaited 
heed 
Sees clouds and tempefts far ben: ath it faread, 
While thunders play around his breaft, and 
dle, 
Itfelf the tenant of a silat iky. 
Mecting, they pauf’d—th’ opening fen- 
tence hung 
Ready to. break—yet filence chain’d each 
tongue. 
With locks mof 
maid 
eloquently dumb, the 
At once conceal’d her ferret and betray’d. 
He afk’d her not a word—for fouls refia’d ~ 
Refpe& the fecret of a wretched mind—- - 
But his eye fpoke fuch pity, as muft move 
The wounded heart to confidence and lovee 
Together, to the altar they drew near— 
- She knelt, opprefi’d by holy awe and fear. 
Three times her guilt hangs trembling; half= 
reveal’d, 
And thrice her fimmid heart denies to yield. 
At length, impatient of the ftruggling load, 
Her full, o erflowing foul gave way to God, 
And, as her fault? ring tongue confe(i7d, fhe: 
tries 
To read with eager glance the good man’s 
eyes. 
Mov’d by fuch fuff’ring, touch’d by fuch 
remorfe, 
His lips dare open comfort’s facred fource ; 
She breathes again; tears, long by mif’ry 
. dried, 
Pour-from her foft’ning eyes a copious tide—— 
Not fuch as uf?d from madd’ning rage to break, 
Whofe burning torrents furrow’ d~ all her 
cheek, 
But thofe delicious tears, thofe tears fara 
Heav’n, 
By God himfelf to fouls repentant giv’n, 
Refembling, in their courfe, the dews of 
eva, 
Thofe mild, refrefhing dews, that give new 
birth 
To the parch’d fruits and drooping flowers of 
earth. 
Mean-time, the prieft, inflructed from the 
iky, 
Grants pardon, in the name of the Mofte - 
High, 
But who cao paint the calm that hour bes 
ftow’d ? 
She vows her heart, her pray’rs, her tears, to 
God. 
She feels her confcience reft, her tortures 
ceafe, 
And confcience feals Heav’n’s promifes of 
pcacee 
Crisrus, 
32 EXTEM- 
ee ee ee ee 
a 
