9.

The Wanderer answer'd, " I to thee
Consign the Maid of Destiny,
This sin-born child; for 'tis my will,
That vice which blights, and crimes that kill,
And pain, of evil born, shall bring
Blessings to every living thing;
And that all wrong, by love withstood,
Shall turn all evil into good. "

10.

But woe-tried men have feelings fine;
And loth was Adwick to resign
The nursling, at his journey's end;
As loth was she to quit her friend.
Friend? Ay, she knew his troubled brow;
Had heard him oft, in dreams, complain;
By stealth, had watch'd his sleep; and now
She clung to him, and kiss'd his cheek.
Was he, then, lov'd? Liv'd he, to find,
At last, that one of human kind
Lov'd the foredoom'd to crime and pain?
Almost his sanity return'd;
He wept, as if his heart would break;
Wept, but his tears were hot — they burn'd
The brain from which they rush'd:
So, lightning, when rous'd ocean raves,
Harrows black midnight's clouds and waves,
Together crush'd.
Irresolute, and with smother'd sighs,
He held her up: she turn'd, and smil'd
A smile that thrill'd him through,
Looking on him with Konig's eyes
Of deep, deep, darkest blue,
Black almost, and yet throwing back
The crimson of the pansy's black.
But while he stood in dubious mood,
Two arms, stretch'd forth, receiv'd the child.
" Thus, " said the voice of deepest tone,
" While men, on unfoundation'd thought,
Build roofless deeds, which come to nought,
The gods preserve their own:
The sought is found, the promis'd maid,
Ordain'd to save their cause betray'd;
A chieftain's daughter, sin-begot,
Brought by a traitor, trusted not. "