That friends might plead, and bigotry relent.
XXXIV.
Then he to Heaven his weeping spouse commends,
And craves its blessing on his purpose bold;—
Still Salem lies in sleep, and forth he wends
To breast the driving storm and chilling cold;
While the lone mother from the window sends
A look where all her aching heart is told;
Dimly she marks him as his course he bends
Across the fields, and toward the forest tends.