Forgive me, love! it is a loathsome thing }
To live not thine; but still this dreaded sting 390}
Of death torments me—I to nature cling—— }
Go, and be his—but love him not, be sure—
Go, love him not—and I will life endure:
He, too, is mortal!”——Rachel deeply sigh’d, }
But would no more converse: she had complied, }
And was no longer free—she was his brother’s bride. }
“Farewell!” she said, with kindness, but not fond,
Feeling the pressure of the recent bond,