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176  LOUISA JANE HALL.

Miriam! my pride is bow'd—my wrath subdued—
My heart attuned e'en to thy slightest will,—
So that thou yet wilt let me linger on,
Hoping and dreaming that thou hat'st me not,
Suffer'd to come at times, and sadly gaze
Upon thy loveliness, as if thou wert
A Dian shrined within her awful fane, 
Made to be look'd upon and idolized, 
But in whose presence passion's lightest pulse, 
Love's gentlest whisper, were a deadly sin. 
Cast me not from thee, love! send me not forth 
Blasted and wan into a heartless world, 
Amid its cold and glittering pageantry, 
To learn what utter loneliness of soul, 
What wordless, deep, and sick'ning misery, 
Is in the sense of unrequited love!

MIRIAM.
I cannot—must not hear thee.  Even now 
A chord is touch'd within my soul.—Great God! 
Where is the strength thou didst vouchsafe of late? 
Anger—reproach—were better borne than this!

PAULUS. 
Why should thy gentle nature be crush'd? 
Is not the voice within thee far more more just 
Than the harsh dictates of thy gloomy faith? 
Thy stern and unrelenting Deity—

MIRIAM.
Youth! thou remindest me—thou doust blaspheme 
The God of Mercy whom I serve; and now 
Courage and strength return at once to nerve 
My trembling limbs, my weak and yielding soul.
What wouldst thou have? that I should yet drag on 
A life of dark and vile hypocrisy,
Days full of fear and nights of vain remorse, 
And love, though sinless, yet not innocent?


LOUISA JANE HALL.  177

For well I know that when thy sunny smiles 
Are on me, sternly frowning doth look down 
My Maker on our stolen interview! 
It is a crime of dye too deep and dark 
To be wash'd out but with a life of tears, 
And penitence, and utter abstinence. 
I never will behold thy face again! 
My soul shall be unlock'd and purified, 
And there the eyes of those that love me well 
Shall find no dark and sinful mystery, 
Shunning a tender father's scrutiny, 
And weighing down my spirit to dust.—
Paulus!—again—farewell! yet—yet in peace 
We part!

PAULUS.
      Maiden! by all my perish'd hopes, 
By the o'erwhelming passion of my soul, 
By the remembrance of that fatal hour 
When first I spake to thee of love—and thought 
That thou—Ay! by the sacred gods, I swear, 
I will not yield thee thus!  In open day, 
Before my father's eyes—and bearing too 
Perchance his malediction on my head—
Before the face of all assembled Rome, 
Bann'd though I be by all her priests and gods,—
Thee—thee will I lead forth—my Christian bride!

MIRIAM.
Ay! sayst thou so, my Paulus? thou art bold, 
And generous.  Meet bridal will it be— 
The stake—the slow red fire—perchance the den 
Of hungry lions, gnashing with white teeth 
In savage glee at the sight of thy young bride, 
Their destined prey! for thou know'st that these 
Are but the tend'rest mercies of thy sire 
To the scorn'd sect, whose lofty faith my soul

M

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---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-06-28 17:49:54 ---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-06-28 16:27:04 ---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-06-29 00:11:05