Many and fervent were the prayers breathed
To Heaven, that they might live extended years,
And each year, as it came, their happiness
Increase, and ours! Thus let the traitor's hopes
For ever end, thus fruitless be his aims—
His snares recoil upon himself alone!
How beautiful the trait of filial love,
Of reverence daughterly, was then evinced,
When, freed from danger from th' assassin's arm,
She promptly to her mother hastes, herself