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her bounding hope her baleful fears belied. What tidings would morn bring. O could she but divine! Saved. The smuggler's patient skill soon fanned life's spark Into a feeble flame. Sir Harold first The solemn quiet broke to breathe the name Of Ruth, the Saracene who had him nurs'd And hid with all a sister's love and care within her ark. "She's saved? Thanks be to God," he said, and wept. "And she, my lady bride! O can you say She too doth live? Or better yonder tide Now held this hopeless wreck of life its prey!" "She lives, brave knight," they said. He smiled his thanks and slept. A messenger of life, young Eric sped And death's fell courier caught At Hilda's gate. The sisters' tears foretold the mischief wrought, "She's swoon'd," they said. He curs'd his cruel fate. They led him to her couch whereon she lay as dead. Two Lives in One. "Sir Harold saved!" Like drops of heavenly balm, With healing quickening power, The tidings thrilled Her soul with joy intense as in that hour, The rush of new-found life her pulses filled. Her anxious fears allayed, she felt a holy calm. Two lives in one, although they dwelt apart. A sympathetic glow, Each seemed to feel, To pass from soul to soul; a constant flow Of thought and feeling made their wounds to heal; As though betwixt the two there beat one common heart. Who nightly scared the darkness-loving owl And made the hills resound With watch-dogs' bark? But he who faithful unto death was found; Who'd buried been in Ragnor's dungeons dark, While round him Death's grim shades pursued their midnight prowl. The Lost Missive. One night as Eric rode, a bolt whizzed by, With well-nigh fatal aim. He faster flew, Until, alack! his faithful steed fell lame. He leapt aground and o'er his arm he drew The reins. What joy to find the smuggler's den was nigh! For Eric's belt then held in close embrace, As erst long months ago, A precious note. 'Twas gone! and its contents would clearly show His lurking place and hers--Alas! who wrote To beg she soon might see her Harold face to face. The smuggler begged young Eric show the road He'd come. Then armed they go; But without need; For where Rowen
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