My soul revealed! and as the pilgrim turns
His wistful gaze, where, from the orient sky,
With gracious lustre beams Redemption's star;-
So to that brightest point of heaven, her presence,
My hopes and longings centred all. No sun
Sank in the western waves, but smiled farewell
To two united lovers:-thus in stillness
Our hearts were twined,-the all-seeing air above us
Alone the faithful witness of our joys!
Oh, golden hours! Oh, happy days! nor Heaven
Indignant viewed our bliss;-no vows enchained
Her spotless soul; naught but the link which bound it
Eternally to mine!
Chorus (CAJETAN).
Those hallowed walls,
Perchance the calm retreat of tender youth,
No living grave?
DON MANUEL.
In infant innocence
Consigned a holy pledge, ne'er has she left
Her cloistered home.
Chorus (CAJETAN).
But what her royal line?
The noble only spring from noble stem.
DON MANUEL.
A secret to herself,-she ne'er has learned
Her name or fatherland.
Chorus (CAJETAN).
And not a trace
Guides to her being's undiscovered springs?
DON MANUEL.
An old domestic, the sole messenger
Sent by her unknown mother, oft bespeaks her
Of kingly race.
Chorus (CAJETAN).
And hast thou won naught else
From her garrulous age?
DON MANUEL.
Too much I feared to peril
My secret bliss!
Chorus (CAJETAN).
What were his words? What tidings
He bore-perchance thou know'st.
DON MANUEL.
Oft he has cheered her
With promise of a happier time, when all
Shall be revealed.
Chorus (CAJETAN).
Oh, say-betokens aught
The time is near?
DON MANUEL.
Not distant far the day
That to the arms of kindred love once more
Shall give the long forsaken, orphaned maid-
Thus with mysterious words the aged man
Has shadowed oft what most I dread-for awe
Of change disturbs the soul supremely blest:
Nay, more; but yesterday his message spoke
The end of all my joys-this very dawn,
He told, should smile auspicious on her fate,
And light to other scenes-no precious hour
Delayed my quick resolves-by night I bore her
In secret to Messina.
Chorus (CAJETAN).
Rash the deed
Of sacrilegious spoil! forgive, my prince,
The bold rebuke; thus to unthinking youth
Old age may speak in friendship's warning voice.
DON MANUEL.
Hard by the convent of the Carmelites,
In a sequestered garden's tranquil bound,
And safe from curious eyes, I left her,-hastening
To meet my brother: trembling there she counts
The slow-paced hours, nor deems how soon triumphant
