ll as wild as sweet.

The strong pulse of Ambition struck
In every vein I owned;
At the same instant, bleeding broke
A secret, inward wound.

The hour of triumph was to me
The hour of sorrow sore;
A day hence I must cross the sea,
Ne'er to recross it more.

An hour hence, in my master's room
I with him sat alone,
And told him what a dreary gloom
O'er joy had parting thrown.

He little said; the time was brief,
The ship was soon to sail,
And while I sobbed in bitter grief,
My master but looked pale.

They called in haste; he bade me go,
Then snatched me back again;
He held me fast and murmured low,
"Why will they part us, Jane?"

"Were you not happy in my care?
Did I not faithful prove?
Will others to my darling bear
As true, as deep a love?

"O God, watch o'er my foster child!
O guard her gentle head!
When minds are high and tempests wild
Protection round her spread!

"They call again; leave then my breast;
Quit thy true shelter, Jane;
But when deceived, repulsed, opprest,
Come home to me again!"

I read--then dreamily made marks on the margin with my pencil; thinking
all the while of other things; thinking that "Jane" was now at my side;
no child, but a girl of nineteen; and she might be mine, so my heart
affirmed; Poverty's curse was taken off me; Envy and Jealousy were
far away, and unapprized of this our quiet meeting; the frost of the
Master's manner might melt; I felt the thaw coming fast, whether I would
or not; no further need for the eye to practise a hard look, for the
brow to compress its expense into a stern fold: it was now permitted
to suffer the outward revelation of the inward glow--to seek, demand,
elicit an answering ardour. While musing thus, I thought that the grass
on Hermon never drank the fresh dews of sunset more gratefully than my
feelings drank the bliss of this hour.

Frances rose, as if restless; she passed before me to stir the fire,
which did not want stirring; she lifted and put down the little
ornaments on the mantelpiece; her dress waved within a yard of me;
slight, straight, and elegant, she stood erect on the hearth.

There are impulses we can control; but there are others which control
us, because they attain us with a tiger-leap, and are our masters ere
we have seen them. Perhaps, though, s