 | Young Arthur |  |
“Edith, my child! a father's tenderest love
With sweet solicitude its warmth shall prove;
That father's hope, ere rests his uprais'd head,
To see thee wisely to some good man wed:
Thine the election, mine the guiding voice;
Mine be the sanction, but be thine the choice.”
She blush'd, she beckon'd, Allan's eye to meet;
Edith and Allan are at Brandon's feet—
He started—paused—and in a moment, see,
Prest to the earth old Beauclerc's reverend knee;
Arthur and Isabel the action view,
Arthur and Isabel are suppliants too:
One prayer of pity all their looks convey,
And Brandon's feelings starting tears display;
“This day,” he cried, “which gives me joy divine,
Shall one heart sorrow and the wound be mine?
Allan, all ranklings from my breast depart,
My hope against thee was, but not my heart;
Edith my child,” and tears here stay'd his voice—
“Mine be the sanction, but be thine the choice.”
Their hands he join'd—here let the curtain fall,
Perfect the climax which brings joy to all.
With sweet solicitude its warmth shall prove;
That father's hope, ere rests his uprais'd head,
To see thee wisely to some good man wed:
Thine the election, mine the guiding voice;
Mine be the sanction, but be thine the choice.”
She blush'd, she beckon'd, Allan's eye to meet;
Edith and Allan are at Brandon's feet—
318
Prest to the earth old Beauclerc's reverend knee;
Arthur and Isabel the action view,
Arthur and Isabel are suppliants too:
One prayer of pity all their looks convey,
And Brandon's feelings starting tears display;
“This day,” he cried, “which gives me joy divine,
Shall one heart sorrow and the wound be mine?
Allan, all ranklings from my breast depart,
My hope against thee was, but not my heart;
Edith my child,” and tears here stay'd his voice—
“Mine be the sanction, but be thine the choice.”
Their hands he join'd—here let the curtain fall,
Perfect the climax which brings joy to all.
| Young Arthur | |