In the deep shade beyond the garden walk
They met, and, talking, ceased and fear’d to talk.
At length she spoke of parent’s love—and now
He hazards all—“No parent, lady, thou!
None, none to me! but looks so fond and mild
Would well become the parent of my child.”
She gasp’d for breath—then sat as one resolved 340
On some high act, and then the means revolved.
“It cannot be, my George, my child, my son!
The thought is misery!—Guilt and misery shun: