Or a horse gone lame that I wish'd to mount.

And if from the regions of mysteries

Something can warn us of trifles like these;

How could it be I met Mr. Devize

With a smiling face and a heart at ease?

No dream at night, when by wonderful laws

The bodies are dead, the spirits alive;

No little heart—sinking without a cause

When the perfect sunshine made nature thrive;

No omen or signal, little or great,

Not a quicken'd pulse or a flutter'd breath;—

So Harry and I rush'd on to our fate,

And the unseen world was passive as Death.

[pg 56]

We stroll'd through the gardens till dinner came,

The scented breezes were faultlessly sweet;

The sun went suddenly down in a flame,

While the birds their jubilant hymns repeat,

We chatted at dinner, and afterwards,

And the moments pleasantly slid away,

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