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Accursed be the love he bore,

Accursed was the force he us'd, So let him of his God implore

For mercy, and be so refus'd!

You frown again,-to show my wrong,
Can I in gentle language speak?

My woes are deep, my words are strong,-
And hear me, or my heart will break.

MAGISTRATE.

I hear thy words, I feel thy pain;

Forbear awhile to speak thy woes;

Receive our aid, and then again
The story of thy life disclose.

For, though seduc'd and led astray, Thou'st travell'd far and wander'd long ;

Thy GOD hath seen thee all the way,

And all the turns that led thee wrong.

THE

HALL OF JUSTICE.

Part the Second.

Quondam ridentes oculi, nunc fonte perenni
Deplorant pœnas nocte dieque suas.

Corn. Galli Eleg.

СОМЕ,

MAGISTRATE.

now again thy woes impart,

Tell all thy sorrows, all thy sin; We cannot heal the throbbing heart,

Till we discern the wounds within.

Compunction weeps our guilt away,
The sinner's safety is his pain;
Such pangs for our offences pay,

And these severer griefs are gain.

VAGRANT.

The son came back-he found us wed, Then dreadful was the oath he swore ;His way through Blackburn Forest led,His father we beheld no more.

Of all our daring clan not one

Would on the doubtful subject dwell; For all esteem'd the injur'd son,

And fear'd the tale, which he could tell.

But I had mightier cause for fear,

For slow and mournful round my bed,

I saw a dreadful form appear,—

It came when I and Aaron wed.

(Yes! we were wed, I know my crime,— We slept beneath the elmin tree;

But I was grieving all the time,

And Aaron frown'd my tears to sëë.

For he not yet had felt the pain,

That rankles in a wounded breast;

He wak'd to sin, then slept again,

Forsook his GOD, yet took his rést.

But I was forc'd to feign delight,

And joy in mirth and music sought,—
And mem❜ry now recalls the night,

With such surprise and horror fraught,
That reason felt a moment's flight,

And left a mind, to madness wrought.)

When waking, on my heaving breast
I felt a hand as cold as death;
A sudden fear my voice suppress'd,
A chilling terror stopp'd my breath.-

I seem'd-no words can utter how!

For there my father-husband stood,-
And thus he said:" Will GoD allow,

"The great avenger, just and good,
"A wife, to break her marriage vow?
"A son, to shed his father's blood?"

I trembled at the dismal sounds,
But vainly strove a word to say

So, pointing to his bleeding wounds,

The threat'ning spectre stalk'd away*.

* The state of mind here described, will account for a vision of this nature, without having recourse to any supernatural appearance.

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