[Footnote 1:
As many hopes hang on his noble head
As blossoms on a bough in May; and sweet ones!
--_Beaumont and Fletcher._]




XXV.


Fear has to do with sacred things,
And more than all from Pity springs.
Two school-girls once--the time is past,
But ever will the memory last--
This moral to my fancy drew,
In colours brilliant, deep, and true.

Mute, blooming, one all-wondering stands,
The elder kisses oft her hands,
Bends o'er with fainting, fond caress,
And languishes in strong distress.
Clings to her shoulder, were it meet,
Seems wishing to embrace her feet;
Like one impatient to implore,
Who dreads the time is nearly o'er,
To ask or to receive a boon,
Which must be known and granted soon.
A boon with life itself entwin'd,