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The Legend of St. Loy

With Other Poems. By John Abraham Heraud
  
  

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 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XII. 
 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
XV.
 XVI. 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
 XIX. 
 XX. 
 XXI. 
 XXII. 
 XXIII. 
 XXIV. 
 XXV. 
 XXVI. 
  
  
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145

XV.

“Woman! why hangst so on my arm? —
“To wildness torturing every charm,
“That stole his love from me — 'twas guilt!
“For which his life-blood must be spilt!
“And thou be pardoned! — off! away!
“I am no mother! — soft! yet stay!
“I know not what it is to pour
“A parent's joy, or anguish sore,
“O'er mine own image, born in fear,
“Through peril brought to vital air —
“Yet, by the rage of love, I ween,
“That rapture must be sweet — and keen
“Must be the agony! —And thou
“Dost more than common torture show —
“Thou art a mother! — be it so —
“Superior power prevents the blow —
“The child be thine — And he shall pine
“To see thee clasp it to thy breast —
“That he is curst — and thou art blest!