How it ’minds me of the evenings when, your distant-hearts caressing,
Upon my dear good brothers, I invoked God’s choicest blessing!”
I went and told the brothers, “No; I cannot bear to grieve him;
He’s so happy in his exile, it’s the proper place to leave him.
I took that journey to him, and right bitterly I rue it;
But I cannot take it from him; if you want to, go and do it.”
Now a new restraint entirely seemed next Sunday to enfold him,
And he looked so hurt and humbled, that I knew that they had told him.