7 _Har_. Still beats my bosom with alarms: I tremble while I'm in thy arms! What will impassioned lovers do? What have I done--to follow you? I leave a father torn with fears; I leave a mother bathed in tears; A brother, girding on his sword, Against my life, against my lord. 8 Now, without father, mother, friend, On thee my future days depend; Wilt thou, for ever true to love, A father, mother, brother, prove? O Henry!----to thy arms I fall, My friend! my husband! and my all! Alas! what hazards may I run? Shouldst thou forsake me--I'm undone. 9 _Hen_. My Harriet, dissipate thy fears, And let a husband wipe thy tears; For ever joined our fates combine, And I am yours, and you are mine. The fires the firmament that rend, On this devoted head descend, If e'er in thought from thee I rove, Or love thee less than now I love! 10 Although our fathers have been foes, From hatred stronger love arose; From adverse briars that threatening stood, And threw a horror o'er the wood, Two lovely roses met on high, Transplanted to a better sky; And, grafted in one stock, they grow. In union spring, in beauty blow. 11 _Har_. My heart believes my love; but still My boding mind presages ill: For luckless ever was our love, Dark as the sky that hung above. While we embraced, we shook with fears, And with our kisses mingled tears; We met with murmurs and with sighs, And parted still with watery eyes. 12 An unforeseen and fatal hand Crossed all the measures love had planned; Intrusion marred the tender hour, A demon started in the bower; If, like the past, the future run, And my dark day is but begun, What clouds may hang above my head? What tears may I have yet to shed? 13 _Hen_. Oh, do not wound that gentle breast, Nor sink, with fancied ills oppressed; For softness, sweetness, all, thou art, And love is virtue in thy heart. That bosom ne'er shall heave again But to the poet's tender strain; And never more these eyes o'erflow But for a hapless lover's woe. 14 Long on the ocean tempest-tossed, At last we gain the happy coast; And safe recount upon the shore Our sufferings past, and dangers o'er: Past scenes, the woes we wept erewhile, Will make our future minutes smile: When sudden joy from sorrow springs, How the heart thrills through all its strings! 15 _Har_. My father's castle springs to sight; Ye towers that gave me to the light! O hills! O vales! where I have played; Ye woods, that wrap me in your shade! O scenes I've often wandered o'er! O scenes I shall behold no more! I take a long, last, lingering view: Adieu! my native land, adieu!