The Emigrant Mechanic and Other Tales in Verse Part 17

Calm but firm was his reply:-- "WILLIAM shall no longer call; Some great ill might him befall, And he must himself deny."

This AMELIA saw was right And informed the gentle boy.

Tears bedimmed his eyes that night For the loss of his delight, Which would all his peace destroy.

Said he now, "I will refrain From my visits, AMIE dear, If you'll true to me remain Till I can consent obtain From my father, whom I fear."

AMIE blushed, her word did pledge.

WILLIAM s.n.a.t.c.hed a parting kiss As he swiftly climbs the hedge, Fairest dreams his mind engage For he tastes of lovers' bliss.

Pa.s.s we o'er five tedious years.

Years which saw great changes come To some thousands in all spheres, Raised by hopes or sunk by fears, Now alive, or in the tomb

WILLIAM had just come from school Summoned to his father's bed On an Autumn evening cool.

Now dread thoughts began to rule Him who lay just like the dead.

Why that start, that vacant stare?

Does he know his son is by?

Guilty conscience who can bear?

Hope shut out or blank Despair, When one's latter end is nigh?

Stood the youth with tearful eyes Fixed upon the dying man.

He would speak, but when he tries His young soul within him dies As he views that face so wan.

Speaks the father now at last, "WILLIAM, listen to my tale.

I through dreadful crime have pa.s.sed, But while life is ebbing fast Now to you I would unveil

"My base heart, if yet I may In some measure crime atone.

It is thirty years this day Since a _Will_ I made away, To gain riches not my own.

"Him I wronged is HUMBLEWORTH, Long a neighbor near this house: His my wealth by right of birth; All I own upon this earth Is my family--and disgrace.

"I would make amends to him, But grim death now shakes his dart; Breathing fails me, eyes grow dim, Spectres 'fore my vision skim, And with terrors fill my heart.

"List, my son, your's be the task, When I'm past this earthly scene, Pardon for my sin to ask, My vile conduct to unmask, And make known what I have been.

"But, my boy, in pity spare, Spare your mother's feelings dear.

Warning take, from me, nor dare Sport with sin; of that beware, For great danger lurketh near.

"I more would say, but now again Death's strong fetters bind my tongue."

Soon his struggles are in vain; WILLIAM'S heart is wrung with pain, And his nerves are all unstrung.

Startling groans break on his ear Now that ill-spent life has fled.

WILLIAM sees his mother near And attempts her heart to cheer, As she sinks upon the bed.

Seems this stroke too hard to bear.

In the lack of Christian hope, Her weak heart from grief and care Droops too soon to dire despair; With such foe she cannot cope.

Now the youth feels greatest need To curb well his ardent grief, Calls he loud for help with speed.

His commands the servants heed, They obey his mandates brief.

First the mistress they convey To her room and lay her down.

There would WILLIAM with her stay, But he could not brook delay Till his father's crime he own.

Goes he to the house once more Where his dear AMELIA lives.

With a heart most truly sore, Reaches he the cottage door, Knocks; no one admittance gives.

Why is all so still around?

This place they did occupy!

"Where can HUMBLEWORTHS be found?"

Asks he loud, nor heeds the sound Of man's footsteps pa.s.sing by.

Turns the man in haste his head And the youth does recognize, Tells him, "In the lake's clean bed Some one found poor AMIE dead!"

And that thitherward he hies.

This like thrust of dagger came, Near depriving him of sense.

In his breast's a raging flame, Calls he AMIE'S lovely name As he rushes o'er the fence.

Down toward the deep lake's side Flies he now with greatest speed.

Forms among the bushes glide, Sorely is the lover tried In this saddest hour of need.

Who can paint his grief of mind As the lifeless form he views?

Vainly strives he peace to find, This stroke seems the most unkind; He all comfort does refuse.

AMIE'S face has lost its bloom, Though her countenance is fair.

Little ANN within the room Deeply shares the general gloom, In a dim lit corner there.

Some make efforts to restore That sweet girl they loved so well.

Too long time elapsed before Her dear form was drawn to sh.o.r.e.

Death has cast o'er her his spell.

Women kind now lay her out, In pure white her corpse invest.

WILLIAM then, by nature taught, With poetic feeling fraught, This warm song to her addressed:

SONG TO AMELIA.

Still like to Luna wading, Beneath yon silvery cloud, Thy beauties are unfading, Though mantled in a shroud.

As thou in death art lying, Thy lovely form I view, And ask if aught in dying Has made thy charms seem new.

Say, wert thou conscious ever That I to thee was true?

That naught but death could sever The bond 'twixt me and you?

I came with heart nigh bursting From thee to get relief.

My very soul was thirsting To let thee share its grief.

And now this stroke has fallen Like thunderbolt on me, And my poor heart is swollen With saddest misery.