How would his very spirit die,

In self-accusing agony,

Should Agnes Vere seek to be free

From her dread vow, and fly with thee!"

But eloquent was Percy's tongue,

Urging that vows without the will,
Must in the eye of heaven be wrong:-
Seeking to justify them still;
Wavering-unfix'd-and chill'd with fear,

The Nun still gave a trembling ear,
As Percy sought her soul to cheer.
"I tell thee when the roses die,
And Autumn clouds are in the sky,
Thy Percy will again be nigh.-
Then promise me, I may not stay,
For the night wanes."-"Away, away :
Oh! dark would be my early doom,
A fearful death or dungeon's gloom,
If thou wert known. Yet, Percy tell,
If this will be our last farewell?
Before the time when earthly pain,
And earthly sorrow will be o'er,

When parted ones will meet again,

Beyond time's rough and billowy shore." "Agnes believe, Oh! still believe,

All that my heart's deep love would breathe

In life, in death, I will be true;

But morning breaks, adieu! adieu!”

PART SEVENTH.

"That tear, Ophelia, has not long to flow,
That voice to murmur, or that sigh to heave."

JAGO.

SOME hearts can brave the storms of fate,
Live on, though chill'd and desolate;
And though life's early dream be faded,
The colours in their landscapes shaded,

And the grey years move slowly on-
Youth's glowing hopes, and visions gone ;-
They gladly hail the sober ray,

That coldly lights their after day;
Live to forget how brightly fair,

The hours of happy morning were,

That fade, and fade in memory's eye,

Till like some pageant long pass'd by,

Oblivion's cloud,

Steals darkly o'er the fairy scene,

Where youth's unworldly joys have been!

Some heads have bow'd,

Beneath the overwhelming stroke;

And the full heart at once hath broke:—

And some of softer, gentler clay,
From one dark hour, droop, fade away;
Desire not life,-nor hope, nor fear,
Their desolated bosoms cheer.

Of such was Agnes, all too keen,
The contest in her soul had been-
The war of feelings in that breast,
Soon in the grave's deep calm to rest;
And thus she mused, as day by day,
Each earthly charm dissolved away.

"Let me believe, beyond the dreary tomb,
That death-dissever'd ones, united dwell;
That to a blest communion they come,
Bidding to every care a long farewell.

I will believe or wherefore lives the thought,
Still hallowing remembrance of the dead-
A gleam of future joy seems ever brought,
Light o'er this gloomy wilderness to shed.

I will believe, beyond this vale of tears,

The heart's lost treasures meet to part no more, Beyond the narrow bound of circling years, a Changeless 'affections live upon that shore!

PART SEVENTH.

And one departed shade seems beckoning me, With an unearthly radiance round her thrown, Where bowers of Amaranth, for aye will be

A world whose lasting Bliss, is all her own.

Support me through this dreary conflict, Thou,-Who bore for us the weight of mortal pain, To Thy behest for ever let me bow,

And life eternal in Thy presence gain!

"Daughter, I grieve," the Abbess said, (And her cold glance on Agnes shed

Unsympathising light,)

"To see thee turn a careless eye,

And with indifference pass by,

Yon dazzling height,

Where stands our patron meek. Oh! pray

To all the saints, that but one ray,
Of the true faith thy soul may win,

From dark rebellion's grievous 'sin!

Thy thoughts are to some memory given :-
Daughter, if unconfess'd, unshriven,

Thy term of life expires,

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