CRUCE AND CORONA.
129
The Book of Revelation, nature's page,The wondrous volume of the human soul.This aged man philosopher is called,And rev'rend friend, by most upon this isle.
Corona's father by his earnest wishHad won the old man from his solitude,From day to day instruction to impartTo these young girls, Corona and Crucè.And thus it is, this lovely morn doth findThese three within the shadow of the bow'r.
The years revolve. It is the sunset hour;The quiet sunset of a Sabbath eve.Again beneath the shadow of the bow'rThese three are met. The aged teacher claspsThe sacred volume; and the dying gleamsOf sunset o'er the hallowed pages rest.In clear deep tones, of Jesus doth he readWhen, passing by, the blind one He did heal.
And now, the volume closing, o'er his handHis hoary head he bows in solemn thought.With reverence his pupils on him gaze.A moment o'er Crucè's dark pensive eyeThe shadow of mysterious sadness comes,
