 | Julia Alpinula
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XXIII.
But grappling fast the cords which Guiscard flung,
'Twixt crag and coast, intrepid Andron hung,—
So low, he heard the swimming bittern shriek,
And felt the salt foam driven upon his cheek;
But even in this severe extremity,
Hope filled his soul,—he felt that he was free!
And bliss was in that momentary date,
That dangerous pause, which vigour saved from fate.
He nears the summit with a greeting eye;—
A moment, and the cords vibrating fly,
Loose to the winds, and, in a wild embrace,
Guiscard he folds, hiding his weeping face
Within his mantle, and his words, though weak,
All—all that e'er the heart can utter, speak.
| Julia Alpinula
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