82
Though he had taught her patience till that hour,
His own at once forsook him, and he fled.
His own at once forsook him, and he fled.
She murmur'd not, nor even seem'd to mourn,
But losing all her love of solitude,
Appear'd so active in each new pursuit,
So wholly what her anxious father wish'd,
That he repented not his cruelty.
Believing in her happiness, he felt
Himself the author, and became more proud
Of his own wisdom: yet she often heard
His wayward taunt or querulous complaint,
And, from the lordly partner of her fate,
The harsher sound of ignorant rebuke.
She was a matchless woman, when she lost
The timid graces of retiring youth,
She still was lovely, for her shaded eyes
Beam'd with a lofty sweetness, a content
Beyond the pow'r of fortune to destroy.
But losing all her love of solitude,
Appear'd so active in each new pursuit,
So wholly what her anxious father wish'd,
That he repented not his cruelty.
Believing in her happiness, he felt
Himself the author, and became more proud
Of his own wisdom: yet she often heard
His wayward taunt or querulous complaint,
And, from the lordly partner of her fate,
The harsher sound of ignorant rebuke.
She was a matchless woman, when she lost
The timid graces of retiring youth,
She still was lovely, for her shaded eyes
Beam'd with a lofty sweetness, a content
Beyond the pow'r of fortune to destroy.
