University of Virginia Library

Innocence is fearless still;
Means not and suspects not ill.
Of the band that waited near
Genoveva, one was dear,
For his piety beloved,
And with many signs approved
Of her grace: his tender age
Did he unto God engage,
Who, before her kneeling, read
From an open scroll outspread,
Where were written records high
Of the Christian chivalry;
Of young Agnes, tender flower,
Gathered in her childhood's hour;
And of patient Laurence, spread
Calmly on his fiery bed;
Of Eulalia, whose fair corse,
Flung abroad without remorse,
From the care of heaven must know
Its pure winding-sheet of snow;
And of them that bore so well
All the spite of earth and hell,
Whose dear ashes forth were thrown
To make rich her neighbouring Rhone;
And of many more beside,
In extremest tortures tried;
Names that never shall grow old,
Hearts to servile fear unsold,
Holy Virgins, Martyrs bold,
Lilies those of dazzling white,
Roses these with red hues dight,
In the garden of the Lord;—
With a pensive ear she heard,
With a spirit inly wrought,
Marvelling in secret thought,
How the holiest and most pure
Most were given to endure;
How it still was theirs to drain
Deepest cups of mortal pain.

But these musings must have end,
Must reveal what they portend.
Hark! a noise is heard without,
Then a rude inrushing rout,
Led of him who should no more
Dare to stand her face before.
Up she started in surprise;
All the coming on her eyes
Flashing in a moment rose—
The long order of her woes,
The foul tale, the hateful lie,
And the deep-laid villany.
Knew she now what cup of pain
Unto her was given to drain;
Her as well that cup had found,
Had unto her lips come round.
‘Ha!’ that faithless guardian cried,
When the wondering twain he spied,
‘It was this, even this I thought,
And my fears to proof are brought.
Have we not endured this wrong
Done against our lord too long?
Hence, away with both! away!
Hence, nor heed them, what they say;
Mine the charge, that without stain
My lord's honour should remain:
If this may not be, at least
Shall the rank offence have ceased.
Bear him to his death—her doom
She shall wait in dungeon gloom.’