Increase of anguish shall new years bestow, } Pain shall on thought and grief on reason grow, } And this, th’ advice I give, increase the ill I show.’ } “‘A second marriage!—No!—by all that’s dear!’ I cried aloud—The spirit bade me hear. “‘There will be trial—how I must not say, Perhaps I cannot—listen, and obey!— 630 Free is thy will—th’ event I cannot see, Distinctly cannot, but thy will is free. Come, weep not, sister—spirits can but guess, And not ordain—but do not wed distress; For who would rashly venture on a snare?’ ‘I swear!’ I answer’d.—‘No, thou must not swear,’ He said, or I had sworn; but still the vow Was past, was in my mind, and there is now: Never! O, never!—Why that sullen air? Think’st thou—ungenerous!—I would wed despair? 640 “Was it not told me thus?—and then I cried, ‘Art thou in bliss?’—but nothing he replied, Save of my fate; for that he came to show, Nor of aught else permitted me to know. “‘Forewarn’d, forearm thee, and thy way pursue, Safe, if thou wilt, not flow’ry—now, adieu!’ “‘Nay, go not thus,’ I cried, ‘for this will seem The work of sleep, a mere impressive dream; Give me some token, that I may indeed From the suggestions of my doubts be freed!’ 650 “‘Be this a token—ere the week be fled Shall tidings greet thee from the newly dead.’ “‘Nay, but,’ I said, with courage not my own, ‘O! be some signal of thy presence shown; Let not this visit with the rising day Pass, and be melted like a dream away.’ “‘O, woman! woman! ever anxious still To gain the knowledge, not to curb the will! Have I not promised?—Child of sin, attend— Make not a lying spirit of thy friend: 660 Give me thy hand!’—I gave it, for my soul Was now grown ardent, and above control; Eager I stretch’d it forth, and felt the hold Of shadowy fingers, more than icy cold: A nameless pressure on my wrist was made, And instant vanish’d the beloved shade! Strange it will seem, but, ere the morning came, I slept, nor felt disorder in my frame; Then came a dream—I saw my father’s shade, But not with awe like that my brother’s made; 670 And he began—‘What! made a convert, child? Have they my favourite by their creed beguiled? Thy brother’s weakness I could well foresee, But had, my girl, more confidence in thee. Art thou, indeed, before their ark to bow? I smiled before, but I am angry now. Thee will they bind by threats, and thou wilt shake At tales of terror that the miscreants make; Between the bigot and enthusiast led, Thou hast a world of miseries to dread: 680 Think for thyself, nor let the knaves or fools Rob thee of reason, and prescribe thee rules.’ “Soon as I woke, and could my thoughts collect, What can I think, I cried, or what reject? Was it my brother? Aid me, power divine! Have I not seen him, left he not a sign? Did I not then the placid features trace