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Narrative poems on the Female Character

in the various relations of life. By Mary Russell Mitford ... Vol. I
Mitford, Mary Russell (1787-1855)
  
[dedication]

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[section]
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BLANCH;
  
Introduction.
collapse sectionI. 
CANTO I.
 I. 
[I.]
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V.
 VI. 
VI.
 VII. 
VII.
 VIII. 
VIII.
 IX. 
IX.
 X. 
X.
 XI. 
XI.
collapse sectionXII. 
XII.
  
Serenade continued.
 XIII. 
XIII.
 XIV. 
XIV.
 XV. 
XV.
 XVI. 
XVI.
 XVII. 
XVII.
 XVIII. 
XVIII.
 XIX. 
XIX.
 XX. 
XX.
 XXI. 
XXI.
 XXII. 
XXII.
 XXIII. 
XXIII.
 XXIV. 
XXIV.
 XXV. 
XXV.
 XXVI. 
XXVI.
 XXVII. 
XXVII.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII.
 XXIX. 
XXIX.
 XXX. 
XXX.
 XXXI. 
XXXI.
 XXXII. 
XXXII.
 XXXIII. 
XXXIII.
 XXXIV. 
XXXIV.
 XXXV. 
XXXV.
 XXXVI. 
XXXVI.
 XXXVII. 
XXXVII.
 XXXVIII. 
XXXVIII.
 XXXIX. 
XXXIX.
 XL. 
XL.
 XLI. 
XLI.
 XLII. 
XLII. THE SENTENCE.
 XLIII. 
XLIII.
 XLIV. 
XLIV.
 XLV. 
XLV.
 XLVI. 
XLVI.
 XLVII. 
XLVII.
 XLVIII. 
XLVIII.
 XLIX. 
XLIX.
 L. 
L.
 II. 
CANTO II.
 III. 
CANTO III.
collapse sectionIV. 
CANTO IV.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V.
 VI. 
VI.
 VII. 
VII.
 VIII. 
VIII.
 IX. 
IX.
 X. 
X.
 XI. 
XI.
 XII. 
XII.
 XIII. 
XIII.
 XIV. 
XIV.
 XV. 
XV.
 XVI. 
XVI.
 XVII. 
XVII.
 XVIII. 
XVIII.
 XIX. 
XIX.
 XX. 
XX.
 XXI. 
XXI.
 XXII. 
XXII.
 XXIII. 
XXIII.
 XXIV. 
XXIV.
 XXV. 
XXV.
 XXVI. 
XXVI.
 XXVII. 
XXVII.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII.
 XXIX. 
XXIX.
 XXX. 
XXX.
 XXXI. 
XXXI.
 XXXII. 
XXXII.
 XXXIII. 
XXXIII.
 XXXIV. 
XXXIV.
 XXXV. 
XXXV.
 XXXVI. 
XXXVI.
 XXXVII. 
XXXVII.
 XXXVIII. 
XXXVIII.
 XXXIX. 
XXXIX.
 XL. 
XL.
 XLI. 
XLI.
 XLII. 
XLII.
 XLIII. 
XLIII.
 XLIV. 
XLIV.
 XLV. 
XLV.
 XLVI. 
XLVI.
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THE RIVAL SISTERS;
 I. 
CANTO I.
 II. 
CANTO II.
 III. 
CANTO III.

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XLVII.

Blanch oft the youthful bride had seen,
A damsel of the court;
And often to the gentle Queen,
Had prais'd fair Inez' frolic mien,
And often, on the velvet green,
Had join'd with her the Infant's sport.
The bride came deck'd in smiles and blushes;
But, when she caught the Princess' eye,
Back to her heart her warm blood rushes,
And all her smiles of beauty fly!
64

She runs, as from a lion's wrath,
Trembling across the church-yard path;
But the deep sigh, the crystal tear,
They speak of pity more than fear:
“Heaven shield the wanderer on her way!
Carlos, I cannot wed to-day!”
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