The bridal of Vaumond :: :: University of Virginia Library

Another stifled shriek—among
The motley group the warrior sprung;
There lay a form, how lovely! prest
Fast to a kneeling old man's breast;
The peasant's cap beside them thrown,
Her dark locks round luxuriant strown,
Her eye half clos'd,—his grasp within,—
“Tis the page! Paulo!”—“Imogen!”—
Aye, Imogen!—Gonsalvo there
Supports that fragile woman fair,
While the coarse crowd all idly look,
All, all the Father soften'd woke,
As the cold iron melts the ice;—
His pride was nature's sacrifice.
Beneath the day, the shallowest stream
The first, reflects the sparkling beam;

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And lightest hearts for joy that live
The quickest tear to sorrow give;
But who shall speak the torrent wide
That gushing came from that heart of pride!