 | Lucile |  |
327
XVIII.
Large, slow,
Silent tears in those deep eyes ascended, and fell.
‘Here, at least, I have fail'd not’ ... she mused ... ‘this is well!’
She drew from her bosom two letters.
Silent tears in those deep eyes ascended, and fell.
‘Here, at least, I have fail'd not’ ... she mused ... ‘this is well!’
She drew from her bosom two letters.
In one,
A mother's heart, wild with alarm for her son,
Breathed bitterly forth its despairing appeal.
‘The pledge of a love owed to thee, O Lucile!
‘The hope of a home saved by thee—of a heart
‘Which hath never since then (thrice endear'd as thou art!)
‘Ceased to bless thee, to pray for thee, save!...save my son!
‘And if not’ ... the letter went brokenly on,
‘Heaven help us!’
A mother's heart, wild with alarm for her son,
Breathed bitterly forth its despairing appeal.
‘The pledge of a love owed to thee, O Lucile!
‘The hope of a home saved by thee—of a heart
‘Which hath never since then (thrice endear'd as thou art!)
‘Ceased to bless thee, to pray for thee, save!...save my son!
‘And if not’ ... the letter went brokenly on,
‘Heaven help us!’
Then follow'd, from Alfred, a few
Blotted heartbroken pages. He mournfully drew,
With pathos, the picture of that earnest youth,
So unlike his own: how in beauty and truth
He had nurtured that nature, so simple and brave:
And how he had striven his son's youth to save
From the errors so sadly redeem'd in his own,
And so deeply repented: how thus, in that son,
In whose youth he had garner'd his age, he had seem'd
To be bless'd by a pledge that the past was redeem'd,
And forgiven. He bitterly went on to speak
Of the boy's baffled love; in which fate seem'd to break
Unawares on his dreams with retributive pain,
And the ghosts of the past rose to scourge back again
The hopes of the future. To sue for consent
Pride forbade: and the hope his old foe might relent
Experience rejected...‘My life for the boy's!’
(He exclaim'd); ‘for I die with my son, if he dies!
‘Lucile! Heaven bless you for all you have done!
‘Save him, save him, Lucile! save my son! save my son!’
Blotted heartbroken pages. He mournfully drew,
With pathos, the picture of that earnest youth,
So unlike his own: how in beauty and truth
He had nurtured that nature, so simple and brave:
And how he had striven his son's youth to save
From the errors so sadly redeem'd in his own,
And so deeply repented: how thus, in that son,
In whose youth he had garner'd his age, he had seem'd
To be bless'd by a pledge that the past was redeem'd,
And forgiven. He bitterly went on to speak
Of the boy's baffled love; in which fate seem'd to break
328
And the ghosts of the past rose to scourge back again
The hopes of the future. To sue for consent
Pride forbade: and the hope his old foe might relent
Experience rejected...‘My life for the boy's!’
(He exclaim'd); ‘for I die with my son, if he dies!
‘Lucile! Heaven bless you for all you have done!
‘Save him, save him, Lucile! save my son! save my son!’
| Lucile | |