ar prove thy home at last!"

The artless Isabel prevails--
That hard, unbending spirit fails!
Not many words her lips had past,
Ere round her his fond arms were cast;
But, while his vengeful conscience prais'd,
He chid; and, frowning, would have rais'd
Till her resistance and her tears,
The vehemence of youthful grief,
Her paleness, his paternal fears,
Compell'd him to afford relief;
And forc'd the agonizing cry--
That he could never her deny!

Of what ambition sought, beguil'd,
His crimes thus fruitless! and his child,
The beautiful, the rich and young--
Now, in his most triumphant hours!
The darling he had nurs'd in flowers!
His pride, the prais'd of every tongue!
So gentle as she was!--the rein
Of influence holding, to restrain
His harsher power, without pretence,
In graceful, gay beneficence--
An angel deem'd, her only care
To comfort and to please!
Whose smiling, whose unconscious air,
Bespoke a heart at ease--
By her--on whom sweet hopes were built,
His cup when fill'd thus rashly spilt!
The treasures he had heap'd in vain,
Thrown thankless on his hands again!
While--father to this being blest,
He saw a dagger pierce her breast,
In knowledge of his former guilt!
And of his projects thus bereft,
What had the wretched parent left?
Oh! from the wreck of all, he bore
A richer, nobler freight ashore!
And filial love could well dispense
On earth a dearer recompense,
If he its real worth had known,
Than full success had made his own.

So ardent and so kind of late,
Is Marie careless of their fate,
That, wrapt in this demeanour cold,
Her spirits some enchantments hold?
That thus her countenance is clos'd,
Where high and lovely thoughts repos'd!
Quench'd the pure light that us'd to fly
To the smooth cheek and lucid eye!
And fled the harmonizing cloud
Which could that light benignly shroud,
Soothing its radiance to our view,
And melting each opposing hue,
Till deepening tints and blendings meet
Made contrast' self serene and sweet.

Vainly do voices tidings bring,
That succours from the former king,
Too late for that intent,--are come
To take the dead and wounded home;
Waiting, impatient, in the bay,
Till they can safely bear awa