"My fondest Love, within this silent glen,
I bade thee come to say a last farewell.
Alas! my Love, we may not meet again,
For thou must leave me. Ah! I cannot tell
What pain was mine as on my knees I cried,
And begged my father to unbend his pride.
XIX.
"He will not hear me; nought that I can say
Will calm his wrath, but rather do my prayers
Increase his passion. Each recurring day,
When I would still importune him, he bears
A sterner aspect, and 'twere better now
That we should speak no more of this our vow.
XX.
"But leave thou me, and seek a foreign clime.
My father thus will think that thou hast lost
All hope of winning me. In one year's time
Return again; perhaps, by conscience tossed,
My father will repent his stern decree,
And gladly, as my husband, welcome thee."
"Oh! fly thou with me, Love," I trembling cried,
"And—" but my loved one would not hear my cry:
"'Tis but a twelvemonth since my mother died,
And I should sin against my God if I
Should leave my father. Oh! my Love, seek not
To tempt me thus, but help me bear my lot."
XXII.
'Twere wrong to more persuade her. Silently
I kissed her gentle lips. A loving spell
Of sweet communion followed—it could be
But short—and then we bade a long farewell.
O'erwhelmed with tears, my gentle Love was gone,
And I must wander exiled and alone.
XXIII.