[R] The reader will bear in mind these lines, important to the clearness of the story; and remember that Calantha bore a different name from her half-brother--that her mother's unnatural prejudice or pride of race had forbidden her ever to mention that brother's name; and that, therefore, her relationship to Morvale, until he sought her out, was wholly unknown to all: the reader will remember, also, that during Calantha's subsequent residence in Morvale's house, she lived as woman lives in the East, and was consequently never seen by her brother's guests. PART THE FOURTH. I. To Joy's brisk ear there's music in the throng; Glorious the life of cities to the strong! What myriad charms, all differing, smile for all The hardier Masks in the Great Carnival! Amidst the vast disguise, some sign betrays To each the appointed pleasure in the maze; Ambition, pleasure, love, applause, and gold, Allure the young, and baby[S] yet the old. For here, the old, if nerves and stubborn will Defy Experience, linger, youthful still, Haunt the same rounds of idlesse, or of toil That lure the freshest footsteps to the soil, Still sway the Fashion or control the State, Gay at the ball, or fierce at the debate. It is not youth, it is the zest of life } Surviving youth--in age itself as rife, } That fits the Babel and enjoys the strife; } But not for you _our_ world's bright tumults are, Soft natures, born beneath the Hesperus star,-- To us, the storm is but the native breath; To you, the quickening of the gale is death; Leave Strife to battle with its changeful clime, And seek the peace which saves the weak, in time! Not Man's but Nature's world be yours!--The shade Where, all unseen, the cushat's nest is made, Less lone to you than pomps which but bestow The tinkling cymbal and the painted show. The lights of revel flash from Arden's halls; There, throng the shapes that troop where Comus calls; But not Sabrina more apart and lone From the loud joy, on her pure coral throne, Than thou, sad maiden!--round the holy tide Swell the gay notes, the airy dancers glide; But o'er the shadowy grot the waters roll, And shut the revel from the unconscious soul! What rank has noblest, manhood's grace most fair, Bend low to her now hail'd as Arden's heir? If rumour doubts the birthright to his name, The father's wealth redeems the mother's shame; And kindly thoughts o'er lordly pride prevail, "The Earl's best lands are not in the entail!"