The danger past for Arden, but for you Who watch the couch, what danger threats anew? How meet in pious duty and fond care, In hours when through the eye the heart is bare? How join in those soft sympathies, and yet The earlier link, the tenderer bond forget? How can the soul the magnet-charm withstand, When chance brings look to look, and hand to hand! No, Indian, no--if yet the power divine Above the laws of our low world be thine; If yet the Honour which thy later creed Softens, not quells, revere the injured dead, Fly, ere the full heart cries, "I love thee still"-- And find thy guardian in the angel--WILL! That power was his! Along the landscape lay The hazy rime of winter's dawning day: Snake-like the curving mists betray'd the rill, The last star gleam'd upon the Eastern hill, Still slept beneath the leafless trees the herd; Still mute the sharp note of the sunless bird; No sound, no life; as to some hearth, bereft By death, of welcome, since his wanderings left, Comes back the traveller;--so to earth, forlorn Returns the ungreeted melancholy Morn. Forth from the threshold stole the Indian!--far Spread the dim land beneath the waning star. Alas! how wide the world his heart will find Who leaves one spot--the heart's true home, behind! He paused--one upward look upon the gloom Of the closed casement, the love-hallow'd room, Where yet, perchance, while happier Suffering slept Its mournful vigil tender Duty kept; One prayer! What mercy taught us prayer?--as dews On drooping herbs--as sleep tired life renews, As dreams that lead, and lap our griefs in Heaven, To souls through Prayer, dew, sleep, and dream, are given! So bow'd, not broken, and with manly will, Onwards he strode, slow up the labouring hill!