LXXVII.

O Paradise! to waken from a dream,
A sleep-revealment of delights, and find
The rosy fancies, beauteous though they seem,
Reality, and in our fond arms twined;
Truth haloed by imagination's beam,
And heaven and earth in one sweet birth combined.
Thus Julian gazed upon her fainting form,
Robed for the grave yet with existence warm.

LXXVIII.

He bore her as a mother bears a child
Within the cradle of her tender breast,
His throbbing heart, 'twixt hope and fear nigh wild,
With that dear lifeless form against it prest,
Like some bright angel beautiful and mild,
Sunk in the calmness of Elysian rest.
Upon her lips he breath'd his soul away,
Whilst she in stilly swoon Joy's prisoner lay.

LXXIX.

Slowly she oped her silken-lidded eyes,
As night steals from the virgin blue of morn,
Gazing on him she loved, in sweet surprise,
Thus tenderly within his bosom borne;
Whilst clouded Memory through old time flies,
Sinking where she from that dear breast was torn.
Ah! blessed future never snatch her thence,
But sun the visions of her innocence.

LXXX.

Report ran through the city that the maid
Ransom'd from Death's cold grasp had happily been,
And, in the moonlight, no unhousell'd shade
Those fearful, conscience-stricken men had seen;
Till they in day-born confidence array'd,
Followed in quest, like blood-hounds swift and keen,
Tracking love's footsteps out with cruel art,
To its sweet resting place within the heart.

LXXXI.

They came to Julian, and with honied guise
Flatter'd him to restore the risen maid;
Seek ye to charm the eagle of his prize,
Within his eyrie on the mountain laid;
But Love, more strong, all sapping art defies,
Nor ever from its fixed trust is sway'd!
They came with arms, they came with vengeful threats,
Poor fluttering dove! what danger thee besets.

LXXXII.

Before the Father of the Church they went
With humble suit, with supplications strong,
Revenge and lust confirming their intent,
And like foul magic drawing them along.
Ave Maria! save the innocent,
Nor let firm judgment minister to wrong,
Warping the tenor of the righteous laws,
To aid oppression and a hollow cause.

LXXXIII.

It was decreed that she who thus had been
Parted from all earth's cares and sympathies,
Wafted by prayer into a fairer scene,
As one who in pure penitency dies