The sombre shadow brooding o'er their home Was felt by all. The heart of Leonore Dwindled and shrank beneath it. Vigor fled, The untastcd meal, and couch bedew'd with tears Gave the solution to her wasted flesh, And drooping eye-lids. Folded in her arms, Bertha with tender accents said, "my child, We please not her who to the angels went, By hopeless grief. Doubt not her watchful eye Regards us, though unseen. How oft she taught To make God's will our own. You, who were glad To do her bidding then, distress her not By disobedience now. Waste not the health In reckless martyrdom, which Heaven hath link'd With many duties, and with hope to dwell If faithful found, with Her who went before And beckoning waits us." From dull trance of grief By kind reproof awakened, Leonore Strove to redeem her scholarship from blame And be a comforter, as best she might To her remaining patroness. * * * * * Within The limits of a neighboring town, a wretch Fell by the wayside, struck by sudden Death That vice propels. A Man of God, who sought Like his blest Master every form of woe Found him, and to a shelter and a couch Convey'd. Then bending down, with earnest words For time grew short, he urg'd him to repent. "Say, Lord have mercy on my soul. Look up Unto the Lamb of God, for He can save Even to the uttermost." Slight heed obtain'd This adjuration, wild the glazing eye Fix'd on the wall,--and ever and anon The stiffening fingers clutch'd at things unseen, While from those spent lungs came a shuddering sound, "_That's he! That's he! The old man! His grey hairs Dabbled with blood!_" Then in a loud, long cry, Wrung out by torturing pain, "I struck the blow! I tell ye that I struck the blow, and scaped. Conrad who bore the doom is innocent, Save fellowship with guilt." And so he fled; The voice of prayer around him, but the soul Beyond its reach. The kneeling Pastor rose Sadly, as when the Shepherd fails to snatch A wanderer from the Lion. But the truth Couch'd in that dismal cry of parting life He treasured up, and bore to those who held Power to investigate and to reprieve; And authorized by them with gladness sought The gloomy prison. Conrad there he found In sullen syncope of sickening thought, And cautiously in measured terms disclosed His liberation. Wondering doubt look'd forth From eyes that opening wide and wider still Strain'd from their sockets. Yet the hand he took That led him from the cell, and onward moved Like Peter following his angel guide Deeming he saw a vision. As the bolts Drew gratingly to let them pass, he seem'd To gather consciousness, and restless grew With an unspoken fear, lest at the last Some sterner turnkey, or gruff sentinel Might bar their egress. When behind them closed.