But journeying home, how rapt his spirits rose!
How light his footsteps crush'd St. Gothard's snows!
How dear seem'd ev'n the waste and wild Shreckhorn,
Though wrapt in clouds, and frowning as in scorn
Upon a downward world of pastoral charms;
Where, by the very smell of dairy-farms,

And fragrance from the mountain-herbage blown,
Blindfold his native hills he could have known!
His coming down yon lake,-his boat in view
Of windows where love's fluttering kerchief flew,-
The arms spread out for him-the tears that burst,—
('Twas JULIA's, 'twas his sister's, met him first :)
Their pride to see war's medal at his breast,
And all their rapture's greeting, may be guess'd.
Ere long, his bosom triumph'd to unfold
A gift he meant their gayest room to hold,—
The picture of a friend in warlike dress;
And who it was he first bade JULIA guess.
'Yes,' she replied, 'twas he methought in sleep,
When you were wounded, told me not to weep.'
The painting long in that sweet mansion drew
Regards its living semblance little knew.

Meanwhile THEODRIC, who had years before
Learnt England's tongue, and loved her classic lore,
A glad enthusiast now explored the land,
Where Nature, Freedom, Art, smile hand in hand;
Her women fair; her men robust for toil;

Her vigorous souls, high-cultured as her soil;
Her towns, where civic independence flings
The gauntlet down to senates, courts, and kings;
Her works of art, resembling magic's powers;

Her mighty fleets, and learning's beauteous bowers,

These he had visited, with wonder's smile,
And scarce endured to quit so fair an isle.
But how our fates from unmomentous things
May rise, like rivers out of little springs!
A trivial chance postponed his parting day,
And public tidings caused, in that delay,
An English Jubilee. 'Twas a glorious sight;
At-eve stupendous London, clad in light,
Pour'd out triumphant multitudes to gaze;
Youth, age, wealth, penury, smiling in the blaze;
Th' illumined atmosphere was warm and bland,
And Beauty's groups, the fairest of the land,
Conspicuous, as in some wide festive room,
In open chariots pass'd with pearl and plume.
Amidst them he remark'd a lovelier mien
Than e'er his thoughts had shaped, or eyes had seen;
The throng detain'd her till he rein'd his steed,
And, ere the beauty pass'd, had time to read
The motto and the arms her carriage bore.
Led by that clue, he left not England's shore
Till he had known her; and to know her well
Prolong'd, exalted, bound, enchantment's spell;
For with affections warm, intense, refined,
She mix'd such calm and holy strength of mind,
That, like Heaven's image in the smiling brook,
Celestial peace was pictured in her look.
Her's was the brow, in trials unperplexed,
That cheer'd the sad, and tranquillised the vexed;

She studied not the meanest to eclipse;

And yet the wisest listen'd to her lips;
She sang not, knew not Music's magic skill,

But yet her voice had tones that sway'd the will.

He sought he won her-and resolved to make
His future home in England for her sake.

Yet, ere they wedded, matters of concern
TO CESAR'S Court commanded his return,
A season's space,-and on his Alpine way,
He reach'd those bowers, that rang with joy that day:
The boy was half beside himself,—the sire,

All frankness, honour, and Helvetian fire,
Of speedy parting would not hear him speak ;
And tears bedew'd and brighten'd JULIA's check.
Thus, loth to wound their hospitable pride,
A month he promised with them to abide;
As blithe he trod the mountain-sward as they,
And felt his joy make ev'n the young more gay.
How jocund was their breakfast-parlour fann'd
By yon blue water's breath,-their walks how bland!
Fair JULIA seem'd her brother's soften'd sprite-
A gem reflecting Nature's purest light,—
And with her graceful wit there was inwrought
A wildly sweet unworldliness of thought,
That almost child-like to his kindness drew,
And twin with UDOLPH in his friendship grew.
But did his thoughts to love one moment range!
No! he who had loved CONSTANCE could not change!
Besides, till grief betrayed her undesigned,
Th' unlikely thought could scarcely reach his mind,
That eyes so young on years like his should beam
Unwoo'd devotion back for pure esteem.

True she sang to his very soul, and brought
Those trains before him of luxuriant thought,
Which only Music's Heaven-born art can bring,
To sweep across the mind with angel wing.

Once, as he smiled amidst that waking trance,
She paused o'ercome: he thought it might be chance,
And, when his first suspicions dimly stole,
Rebuked them back like phantoms from his soul.
But when he saw his caution gave her pain,
And kindness brought suspense's rack again,
Faith, honour, friendship, bound him to unmask
Truths which her timid fondness fear'd to ask.
And yet with gracefully ingenuous power
Her spirit met th' explanatory hour;—
Ev'n conscious beauty brighten'd in her eyes,
That told she knew their love no vulgar prize;
And pride, like that of one more woman-grown,
Enlarged her mien, enrich'd her voice's tone.
'Twas then she struck the keys, and music made
That mock'd all skill her hand had e'er displayed:
Inspired and warbling, rapt from things around,
She look'd the very Muse of magic sound,
Painting in sound the forms of joy and woe,
Until the mind's eye saw them melt and glow.
Her closing strain composed and calm she played,
And sang no words to give its pathos aid;

But grief seem'd lingering in its lengthen'd swell,
And like so many tears the trickling touches fell.
Of CONSTANCE then she heard THEODRIC speak,
And steadfast smoothness still possess'd her cheek.
But when he told her how he oft had plann'd
Of old a journey to their mountain-land,
That might have brought him hither years before,
Ah! then,' she cried, 'you knew not England's shore;

6

And, had you come, and wherefore did you not?'

Yes,' he replied, it would have changed our lot!"

Then burst her tears through pride's restraining bands,
And with her handkerchief, and both her hands,
She hid her voice and wept.-Contrition stung
THEODRIC for the tears his words had

wrung.

'But no,' she cried, unsay not what you've said,
Nor grudge one prop on which my pride is stay'd;
To think I could have merited your faith

Shall be my solace even unto death !'—
JULIA, THEODRIC said, with purposed look
Of firmness, my reply deserved rebuke;
But by your pure and sacred peace of mind,
And by the dignity of womankind,

Swear that when I am gone you'll do your best
To chase this dream of fondness from your breast."
Th' abrupt appeal electrified her thought ;-
She look'd to Heav'n as if its aid she sought,
Dried hastily the tear-drops from her cheek,
And signified the vow she could not speak.

Ere long he communed with her mother mild :
'Alas!' she said, 'I warned-conjured my child,
And grieved for this affection from the first,
But like fatality it has been nursed ;
For when her fill'd eyes on your picture fix'd,
And when your name in all she spoke was mix'd,
'Twas hard to chide an over-grateful mind!
Then each attempt a likelier choice to find
Made only fresh-rejected suitors grieve,
And UDOLPH's pride-perhaps her own-believe
That, could she meet, she might enchant ev'n you.
You came. I augur'd the event, 'tis true,
But how was UDOLPH's mother to exclude

The guest that claim'd our boundless gratitude?