Forgiving eyes--a look of grace."

But Olive turned her face away--
Her father's spirit whispered Nay--
His hastened death, his curse forbade:
She trembled and was sore afraid;
Yet father's daughter, meek and mild,
Was she not, too, the mother's child?

Then _he_ was gone, and _she_ was here:
Her eye acknowledges the tear
Of brooding nature all confessed--
She falls upon the wanderer's breast!
No more the veil obscures the frame--
The curse is taken from the name.




XVII.

THE BALLAD OF MAID MARION.


Maid Marion laid her down to sleep,
Maid Marion could do nought but weep,
For thinking of that happy time
When she was in her early prime,
When in her glass she looked so fair
With lily-lire and golden hair.