But still a phantom haunted all my dreams--
Awake or sleeping, for awake I dreamed--
A spectre that I could not chase away--
The phantom-form of my own false Pauline.
"Six months wore off--six long and weary months;
Then came a letter from a school-boy friend--
In answer to the queries I had made--
Filled with the gossip of my native town.
Unto her father's friend--a bachelor,
Her senior by full twenty years at least--
Dame Rumor said Pauline had pledged her hand.
I knew him well--a sly and cunning man--
A honey-tongued, false-hearted flatterer.
And he my rival--carrying off my prize?
But what cared I? 'twas all the same to me--
Yea, better for the sweet revenge to come.
So whispered pride, but in my secret heart
I cared, and hoped whatever came to pass
She might be happy all her days on earth,
And find a happy haven at the end.
"My thoughtful master bade me quit my books
A month at least, for I was wearing out.
'Unbend the bow,' he said. His watchful eye
Saw toil and care at work upon my cheeks;
He could not see the canker at my heart,
But he had seen pale students wear away
With overwork the vigor of their lives;
And so he gave me means and bade me go
To romp a month among my native hills.
Pages:
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132