Lurk'd there no secret boding in her breast?

Did no faint whisper warn of evil nigh?

Such oft awake when most the heart seems blest

Midst the light laughter of festivity:

Whence come those tones!-Alas! enough we know,

To mingle fear, with all triumphal show!

Who spoke of evil, when young feet were flying
In fairy rings around the echoing hall?
Soft airs thro' braided locks in perfume sighing,
Glad pulses beating unto music's call?

Silence!-the minstrels pause-and hark! a sound,
A strange quick rustling which their notes had drown'd!

And lo! a light upon the dancers breaking

Not such their clear and silvery lamps had shed! From the gay dream of revelry awaking,

One moment holds them still in breathless dread;

The wild fierce lustre grows-then bursts a cry-
Fire! thro' the hall and round it gathering-fly!

And forth they rush-as chased by sword and spear-
To the green coverts of the garden-bowers;
A gorgeous masque of pageantry and fear,

Startling the birds and trampling down the flowers: While from the dome behind, red sparkles driven Pierce the dark stillness of the midnight heaven.

And where is she, Pauline?-the hurrying throng
Have swept her onward, as a stormy blast
Might sweep some faint o'erwearied bird along—
Till now the threshold of that death is past,
And free she stands beneath the starry skies,
Calling her child—but no sweet voice replies.

"Bertha! where art thou ?--Speak, oh! speak, my

own!"

Alas! unconscious of her pangs the while,

The gentle girl, in fear's cold grasp alone,

Powerless hath sunk within the blazing pile;

A young bright form, deck'd gloriously for death,

With flowers all shrinking from the flame's fierce

breath!

But oh! thy strength, deep love!—there is no power To stay the mother from that rolling grave,

Tho' fast on high the fiery volumes tower,

And forth, like banners, from each lattice wave; Back, back she rushes thro' a host combinedMighty is anguish, with affection twined!

And what bold step may follow, midst the roar
Of the red billows, o'er their prey that rise?
None!--Courage there stood still-and never more
Did those fair forms emerge on human eyes!

Was one brief meeting theirs, one wild farewell?

And died they heart to heart?-Oh! who can tell?

Freshly and cloudlessly the morning broke

On that sad palace, midst its pleasure-shades; Its painted roofs had sunk-yet black with smoke

And lonely stood its marble colonnades :

But yester-eve their shafts with wreaths were bound!Now lay the scene one shrivell'd scroll around!

And bore the ruins no recording trace

Of all that woman's heart had dared and done? Yes! there were gems to mark its mortal place,

That forth from dust and ashes dimly shone ! Those had the mother on her gentle breast,

Worn round her child's fair image, there at rest.

And they were all !--the tender and the true

Left this alone her sacrifice to prove,

Hallowing the spot where mirth once lightly flew,

To deep, lone, chasten'd thoughts of grief and love.

Oh! we have need of patient faith below,

To clear away the mysteries of such wo!