Bury Thy Sorrow

Go bury thy sorrow, the world hath its share;
Go bury it deeply, go hide it with care.
Go think of it calmly, when curtained by night;
Go tell it to Jesus, and all will be right.

Go tell it to Jesus, He knoweth thy grief;
Go tell it to Jesus, He’ll send thee relief;
Go gather the sunshine He sheds on the way:
He’ll lighten thy burden—Go, weary one, pray.

Hearts growing aweary with heavier woe
Now droop ’mid the darkness—Go, comfort them, go!
Go bury thy sorrow, let others be blessed;
Go give them the sunshine, tell Jesus the rest.

"The au­thor of the hymn was the daugh­ter of a min­is­ter. When she wrote these lines she was liv­ing with her bro­ther, whom she great­ly loved. He also was a min­is­ter, and had the usu­al cares and bur­dens to car­ry that are in­ci­dent to a pas­tor’s life. To him she con­fid­ed all her joys and sor­rows. One day, af­ter hav­ing dis­closed to him some pe­cul­iar tri­al which she was en­dur­ing, she was re­proached by her con­science for hav­ing need­less­ly add­ed to his al­ready num­er­ous cares. She stood by the open win­dow, and saw the long, hea­vy sha­dows cast by the tall pop­lar trees across the lawn, and the thought came to her:

“That is just what I have done to my brother! Why did I do it? Why did I not ra­ther bu­ry my own sor­row, and al­low on­ly words of cheer and bright­ness to reach his ears?”

With such thoughts in her mind, and with tears of re­gret fill­ing her eyes, she re­tired to her lit­tle at­tic bed­room, and there wrote the hymn above."

O! How this makes should make us realize how selfish we can sometimes be! We can be so wrapped up in our own sorrows, that we never look to see whether others are suffering or not, and we needlessly put more on their burden by unloading ours upon them!

This young woman obviously had a selfless demeanor. I do so earnestly wish that I could assume such a position. To abandon our sorrows, and comfort and encourage those around us in whatever grief they might be feeling, would be a way to be looking to the interests of others, as it says in Philippians 2:4.

There are many times when we undergo trials and tribulations of many kinds. Take the instance of Cyrano de Bergerac... the play. He falls in love with the beautiful Roxane, but he is asked to woo her for a more handsome, but less articulate young man, Christian. Cyrano does this, and wins the heart of Roxane... but not for himself—for Christian. The young couple are married and live happily, but Cyrano sacrificed his love for Roxane in order that Christian would be enabled to marry her. He buried his own sorrow deep within his heart, and performed an act of love towards Roxane by wooing her for the man that she would love and be happy with. (Now I'm finding it hard to articulate... I can't seem to say very well what it is I want to say.. :P)

But back to the hymn...

I know from experience that when any member in the family is not happy, it affects everybody else's mood. However, if that person, no matter what they were going through, could offer a cheerful and good-natured word, then who knows what encouragement it would bring! This brings to mind the verse to a poem...

"The ill-timed truth we might have kept—
Who knows how sharp it pierced and stung!
The word we had not sense to say —
Who knows how grandly it had rung!"

I can't seem to express my thoughts the way I want to. That's rather frustrating, you know. But I want to say something along the lines of this...

The people who truly love you care about you (obviously). So, when you are undergoing some affliction, it will matter to them. They will not just pass it by indifferently, but they will fervently pray for you, they will worry about you. And sometimes, you might unburden yourself so much that you never even think of what might be occurring in their soul. They might be happy to simply have you be oblivious to their affliction, but how much better it would be to listen then to talk, to encourage rather than complain! Some people hide their sorrow so well that you would never guess what affliction is occurring in the labyrinth of their soul. Some make their sorrow public. But even so! Whatever it is, we should always seek to be attentive, and to encourage and comfort where it might be needed. :)

But anyhow... I just had some thoughts on that subject that I wanted to share. :)

Romeo And Juliet Paper Written At Age Nine....

And yes, complete with original spelling and grammar....

Romeo And Juliet (Narration)

There was once a place in Italy. a city in Italy and in this city there lived two Ruel (Note: this is supposed to be royal... :P) familys the Capulets and the montages who lived across from eachother. Thay always had wars small wars in the market place. Romeo, a hansome man, was a Montagu. he loved a girl named Roslind but she did not care for Poor Romeo. As he was camplaining to his freinds, a servent from the Capulets came to them with a list of peapel to go to Lord Capulets huose and feast but as the poor man could not reed Romeo helpd him and who shell he find but Roselinds name at the top of the list. Romeo decided to go to the feast and find Roselind. But when he got there with a mask on he cought sight of a bautifull girl named Juliet. he said something and his vaise was remeberd by a capulet. But as he was to be killed by that capulet Lord Capulet orderd that he did no harm. but the capulet did not listen and draw his sword was banished from the feast. Bothe Romeo and Juliet fell in love.

Romeo, that night climd the capulets wall and he hid in the dark. He heard Juliet winning (whining) for him, Romeo. Then Romeo went from his hiding place and Juliet saw him and was very happy. There was nothing better that Juliet liked than a wedding. So Romeo and Juliet decided to wed. So that after noon thay were mairred secretly in a kind friyers sell. after thay were mareid, Romeo wasmarcet place when A capulet killd Romeos freind and Romeos friend died in Romeos arms with in two mitents Romeo struck the capulet. this capulet was Juliets cusein! Then Romeo was banished from the city of vrenen. Juliet was winning that her cusen was dead but most of all she longd for Romeo. then Juliets Mother and father orderd Juliet to merry a capulet. Juliet did NOT want to merry this capulet. So she went to the friyer and told him her trubles. the kind man gave her some magic potshon. Juliet drank this and fell into a deep sleep. When Juliets maid came into Juliets room and saw her on her bed dead She was horefiyd. Now the monk was sending news to Romeo that he had gave Juliet some magic potshon and Juliet would not die. But bad news travles faster than good news does. And so Romeo decided to go to the city of Vrenen and die with he bautifull wife Juliet. Romeo took along with him poison strong enough to kill twontey men.

When he was there he went to the tomb where Juliet was to be bured. When he got to the tomb he knelt becide the girl and said, I drink to you Juliet. and then he kissed his wife one last time drank the poison and then he, Romeo, died in Juliets tomb. Then when Juliet awoke and yeld in a soft sweet vose, Romeo sweet Romeo I'm here Juliet. but then she saw him dead at her side she said oh Romeo did the fryer not send word to you? but he was dead and cuold not answer. When she saw the poison bottle and she relized he was dead. Then she took it hopeing there was still some poison in it but of course Romeo was not a sloppy drinker so of course there was none left. So she kissed Romeo's lips hopeing he had spilld a little but of course Romeo was not a sloppy drinker so of course there was none left. And so Juliet started to cry as she cryd she grabd Romeos dagger because she could not live without Romeo so she grabd his dagger amed it at her heart stabd herself and gasped. oh Romeo. and died.

THE END.

Annabel Lee

This is awfully sad..... One of my favorite poems.

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love -
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me
Yes! that was the reason
(as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we
Of many far wiser than we
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

One of the Most Classic Poems Ever Written....

Sorry, I don't know the author... Rachel sent it to me about two years ago. :)

Mary had a little lamb
Her father killed it dead.
And now it goes to school with her
Between two hunks of bread.

:D

An Interesting Sequence

The chivalrous gentlemen.

Peter complacently stands by ready to attack, and Duncan stands defiantly unaware, it seems, that his last minutes on earth are inevitable. :P

But now Duncan has finally put a look of painful surprise on his face as the sword plunges, and Peter, still with little effort, still stands complacently.

"Don't you know, you fool, you never can win!"

Unfortunately we didn't get enough pictures! There should have been one of Duncan on the floor, but it was so spontaneous that we didn't plan far enough. :P These were actually taken in August of 2007, and the costumes were made for the Jamestown 400. And yes, Chloe did make them all. :D

Lady Jane Grey

So, sobering down from the last post, I am here writing about one of my greatest role models, that of Lady Jane Grey, also known as the Nine Day Queen. Last year I had to write a paper about her for school, so obviously I had to do a bit of studying. I gained information from a book called Daughters of Destiny (Noel Wheeler), and another called The New World (Winston Churchill). Jane inspired me as a Christian young woman to be completely selfless... and... Well, just read it. She was indefatigable.

Here is a picture of Jane at the age of sixteen.



Lady Jane Grey

1537 — February 12th 1554

By Ruby Jean Hopkins

Lady Jane Grey was a young girl who lived during the reign of King Henry VIII and Edward VI. She was the daughter of Henry Grey, Marquis of Dorset and Duke of Suffolk, and Lady Frances Brandon. She and her two younger sisters, Ladies Catherine and Mary, were the great-grand-daughters of Henry VII, and were thus members of the House of Tudor.

Jane was brought up a devout Protestant, and never knew any form of Catholic ritual. Her childhood was such that would not have brought pleasant memories to her in her later life, if she had had one. Her mother was cruel and abusive, and sought for perfection in her daughter, and even when it was gained in certain areas, it was never good enough. Jane was very intelligent. She learned Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and Arabic besides the contemporary languages (probably Spanish, Italian, French, German, etc.) Alfred Lord Tennyson said about her:
"Seventeen—in music
Peerless—her needle perfect, and her learning
Beyond the churchmen; yet so meek, so modest,
So wife-like humble to the trivial boy
Mismatched with her for policy! I have heard
She would not take a last farewell of him;
She feared it might unman him for his end.
She could not be unmanned—no, nor out-
woman'd.
Seventeen—a rose of grace! Girl never breathed to rival such a rose;
Rose never blew equaled such a bud!"



As Tennyson said, she was very meek, quiet, and humble. Her mother got it into her head to harden her child with regular beatings. Thus Jane lead the life of one persecuted. She said:
"For when I am in the presence of either Father or Mother, whether I speak, keep silence, sit, stand or go, eat, drink, be merry or sad, be sewing, playing, dancing, or doing anything else, I must do it as it were in such weight, measure and number, even so perfectly as God made the world; or else I am so sharply taunted, so cruelly threatened, yea presently sometimes with pinches, nips and bobs and other ways ... that I think myself in hell."

However, Jane did have one pleasant part of her childhood when she went to live with Aunt Catherine, or Queen Catherine, wife of King Henry VIII. Jane was under ten years old. She became acquainted with her cousins Mary, Elizabeth and Edward. She took great delight in living at the castle as the queen's ward. Catherine loved her, and Jane most likely loved her better than her own mother, if she held any affection for that horrid woman. King Henry the VIII died in 1547, and after his death Catherine married Sir Thomas Seymour. However, she died shortly after giving birth to her only child, Mary. When Catherine died, Jane acted as chief mourner at her funeral.

Sir Thomas Seymour had proposed marriage between Jane and his nephew, King Edward VI. However, Thomas's brother, Edward Seymour, was already arranging a match between Edward VI and Princess Elisabeth of France (the daughter of King Henry II.) The brothers both had ideas that conflicted with each other, and thus a great power struggle ensued. The marriage between Jane and Edward never took place, and the Seymour brothers were both tried for treason and executed by John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland.

Next marriage was purposed between Jane and Lord Hertford, the eldest son of the late Duke of Somerset. But Lady Frances had been corresponding with John Dudley which led to another match for Jane and Lord Guilford Dudley, son of Lord Guilford Dudley. Jane, for the first time in her life, refused to submit. She seemed to have an almost fear, mixed with hatred for the Dudley's. And the prospect of marrying into their family caused great alarm and distress on her account. She had no explanation for this feeling. Her mother beat her until she consented. The marriage was performed on May 25th, 1553.


Jane's claim to the throne came through her mother, who was the daughter of Mary Tudor, the daughter of King Henry VII. However, Edward excluded Lady Frances from his will and willed the Crown directly to Jane.

Edward VI, King of England, died on July 6th, 1553. After his death, Jane was proclaimed queen, although she would not be officially queen until her coronation. The Duke of Northumberland had planned to capture Mary to keep her from gaining support from the people of England and so endangering the reign of the Queen. But Mary, being warned of the intentions of the Duke, fled to Castle Framlingham in Suffolk. Within nine days Mary gained incredible support, and the Parliament declared her rightful queen, and denounced and revoked Jane's proclamation as coerced. Mary arrived in London in a grand procession. Jane and her husband were thrown into the apartments in the Tower of London, for high treason, although their lives were originally spared. The Duke of Northumberland was executed on August 21st, 1553.

On November 13th, a special trial took place at Guildhall in London. There, Guilford, Jane, and two of Guilford's brothers were charged with high treason. Jane was sentenced to being "Burned alive on Tower Hill or beheaded as the Queen pleases." However, the imperial ambassador reported to Charles V that Jane's life was to be spared.

A rising, however, headed by Sir Thomas Wyatt sealed Jane's fate. Although Jane didn't have anything to do directly with the rising, Philip II of Spain and Mary's councilors advised her to put an end to Jane's life, as that would also end the rising. A group of Protestants, Jane's father being among them, had caused the uprising, demanding that Jane should be given back as their queen.


The dates for Guilford and Jane's execution was set, while the other two Dudley brothers were pardoned. Mary had considered having them executed together, but decided that it would move the public too much, who were already in her favor. The separation between Jane and Guilford had been six months, and it is said that Jane's husband carved "Jane" on his cell door, perhaps pining for his wife. Guilford had obtained permission to bid his wife one last farewell, but Jane refused to see him, saying that he would not be able to bear it manfully to the end. However, she sent him many loving messages, also reminding him how short their separation would be! On the morning of February 12th, 1554, Guilford's time had come. He caught Jane's eyes from her cell window, as he was going to his death bravely. He was beheaded at Tower Green, and it is said that as Jane saw from her window his remains being carried passed, she cried out, "O Guilford! Guilford!" Then fell on her knees to pray. After this she gave a speech to the crowd. She said:
"Good people, I am come hither to die, and by a law I am condemned to the same. The fact, indeed, against the queen's highness was unlawful, and the consenting thereunto by me: but touching the procurement and desire thereof by me or on my behalf, I do wash my hands thereof in innocency, before God, and the face of you, good Christian people, this day."



According to Mary's orders, Jane was to be executed in her private apartments, Mary said, "out of respect for her cousin." Jane recited the fifty-first psalm. The executioner fell on his knees and asked her to forgive him; this she did, asking him if he would take her blindfold off before she lay herself down. "No, madam," he answered. She then blindfolded herself, and determined to go to her death with dignity. However, as she prepared to lay her head down, she groped to find the block, and began to panic, crying out, "Where is it? O, what shall I do?" An unknown hand helped her find her way, and retain her dignity at the end. Her last words were, "Lord, into thy hands I commend my spirit," and "O Grave, where is thine victory? O Death, where is thy sting?" With that, the blade descended, and Jane's short life came to an end. Another quote by Tennyson:
"Then knelt and said the Miserere Mel—
But all in English, mark you: rose again,
And when the headsman prayed to be forgiven
Said, “You will give me my true crown at last,
But do it quickly;” then all wept but she,
Who changed not color when she saw the clock,
But asked him, child-like, “Will you take it off
Before I lay me down?” “No, madam” he said,
Gasping, and when her innocent eyes were bound,
She with her poor blind hands feeling—“Where
is it?
Where is it?” —You must fancy that which fol-
lowed,
If you have the heart to do it!"
Jane was buried with her husband at the chapel St. Peter ad Vincula on the north side of Tower Green.


THE END

Afterward:

Henry Grey was executed one week after his daughter. Lady Frances Brandon surprised and shocked everybody by marrying her chamberlain, Adrian Stokes, three weeks after her husband's death, and barely a months after Jane's. She and her daughters were also fully pardoned by Queen Mary, and returned to court. She did not mention Jane ever again, and was as indifferent to her in death as she was in life.
Queen Mary lived only four years after executing her cousin. She died in the year 1558, and was succeeded by Elizabeth.

Lady Jane inspires me as a Christian young woman to do everything with beauty, truth, and excellence, and to do all unto the Lord. Her sweet submissive spirit is impeccable, and encourages me to be the same, although I know that I could never be her equal in anything.

The Tragedy of Rhoda Kelly

(Don't I look happy? :D) A few nights ago, Peter and Chloe were going home from somewhere (I can't tell where, because it's a secret *wink*) and there was a deer on the side of the road that had been hit 4 minutes ago earlier. The policemen were present, and when Peter stopped, they asked him if he wanted her (obviously being a doe.) Of course Peter wasn't going to just pass this by, so he stuck it in the back of Nana's car and drove it home... Now, since I've been wanting to hunt for the past three years, and it had never worked out, Daddy thought this would be the opportune moment for me to learn a few things about the sport. Firstly, how to field dress it.

Of course as I was not experienced in the art of field dressing, daddy had to tell me what to do and everything like that... I would go into detail, but I'll save some of you that experience. (Olivia would be one whom I know would not appreciate this. :P) But I will say that before I was open to the idea of maybe not liking hunting. I thought that maybe it would sound fun now, but then after I had experienced it I might be completely grossed out!! However, I actually loved the entire process, and enjoyed myself immensely. I told daddy that I was having quality girl time with the deer... Which he named Rhoda Kelly.

So, I'm sure you all didn't need to know that!! And I realize that it might have been inconsiderate of me to post these pictures of bloody me, so if any of you feel offended, then please know that I am really very sorry... Not sorry that I posted the pictures, but really sorry that I offended anyone by them. :D (Is that insensitive for me to say that? I am sorry if it was.) Oh, I suppose this is the apology paragraph. I guess I'm just feeling like I am having a conversation with someone. I think I talk too much, especially on my blog, so that ends this post. :P

Pray!!

I was recently reading some articles about Barak Obama vs. John McCain, as well as watching some videos that a friend sent me. When I read and watched, my burning passion for my country was inflamed within my mind, and I went crazy with the desire (and that seems like a belittling word compared to this intense feeling I have) to do something for my country. I was talking to my friend Olivia Howard at the time, and I expressed this urge. I cannot very well describe it, but I will try the best I can. I felt a burning, raging passion in the depths of my soul .... A strong sensation that something must be done! I felt helpless. I felt insignificant and insipid. (I felt like nothing, which really is true! I am but dust!) Of course I have no political influence on anything or anyone least of all the government... I cannot rebuild Wall Street, I cannot do anything about the terrorists, or the war in Iraq. Here are some things I said to Olivia about it:

"I just yearn to do it SOO badly! I feel like America is looking on towards the cliff and plunging unknowingly towards the edge."

"Of course I wouldn't want to do this (reffering to those things I listed up there) but... I wish it could be done and if there was anything I could do to promote it then I would but what is it?"

"What is it that poor insipid people whom no one cares about can do for their country?"

"I don't know," she replied.

"YOU DON'T KNOW?????" I said, as though I rather expected she had a solution for me... But then something dawned upon me. I thought that in my mind I saw a faint streak of light. It grew stronger and stronger, as truth always does. A feeble peace began to enter my mind. I said to Olivia:

"The answer is everywhere. When we don't have influence on the governemnt or politics... Then—and even if we did—we pray. Because even the prayers of poor insipid creatures reach Him who sits in the heavens and laughs. Yet he hears our desperate pleas that come straight from a heart loyal to King and country! And what comfort we have that even if devestation befalls our country then he has ordained it and will make a way out for his people... For, 'I have never seen his children begging for bread', from Psalm 37."

Then the tables reversed. Instead of me encouraging her, it was she encouraging me. My faith began to sink. I felt like I was in a state of inertitude. I began to be afraid of everything. "What would become of us if our country became devastated? What would happen?" But she reminded me, "Pray...! Put your desire for your country upon your Lord, and he will give you an overflowing peace about it... The prayers of the children of God are not neglected."

This once more relieved me... But allow me to encourage ALL of my brothers and sisters in Christ to pray and to never cease watching!

The things that I have said may seem drastic and dramatic, but it was really what I was feeling... And I know that I might have seemed a little strange in this post... but.... and... Well, that's it I suppose...... As I said to Olivia,

"And...
And...
And...
*sobs*"

Update

Let's just say that I'm at Grandma's right now, in New Wilmington PA, and there's something a little less than a tornado going on outside, that has made a HUGE limb of a pine tree break off with a terrific bombilation and fall RIGHT in front of our brand new van!!! In short, I'M SCARED!!!! :-( So, if you could pray that we get home safely tonight--or tomorrow, but most likely tonight--I would be sooo grateful! And if we all die, SEE YOU IN HEAVEN!!!!!! :-) And may the joy of the Lord be with you all. :)

Love,

~Ruby

L'etat D'un Journaliste Malade

Unfortunately, I am laid up in bed. The only reason I'm down in the ghastly basement is to post and tell you why I'm not posting. I have about 100 and some pictures that I have intended to post for your amusement, but regrettably do not have the strength or patience to go through the long tedious process of posting them.

My brother Peter tells me I am sick because I am "teething" as he loves to call it whenever someone has their wisdom teeth coming in. I am of the mind that it is a combination of that, and of the fact that I was working with dust all day Thursday (I can be allergic to dust on occasion) and that I slept in the damp basement for two nights, which I am not accustomed to.

There is this big red thing across my screen at the moment that says "ERROR" and a little yellow triangle outlined in black, with a black exclamation point in the middle at the bottom of the screen, alongside wich there are little red letters that tell me in the kindest language imaginable: "Autosave failed." Lovely.

So, I shall now retire back to my lonely and very hot couch (seeing as the weather is rather humid) to read Vanity Fair, or rather the last 70 pages there are to read. Oh, Vanity of vanity... All is vanity, my dear blog readers, and please never forget that.

(Those are my last words to you in case I should die pretty soon.... I am sick with my own diagnosis, and it usually ends in death... Should that be the case, I love you you all dearly as brothers and sisters in Christ, and will pray for you as Paul did for his beloved brethren. Oh, and please attend my funeral. I am sending all the details to my pastor tomorrow, along with an apology for my absence in services.)

Most Jokingly and Sincerely,

~Ruby Jean Hopkins

One of the Saddest Poems Ever!

I found this peoms in McGuffey's Fourth Reader.... It is so incredibly heart-wrenching. I love this poem, because the tragedy, the grief, and the story are all so original and classic... Very well written, and so... tragic! (Just the type of thing I like!) Oh, and I know it's kind of long, but it is so worth it!

Ginevra- by Rogers

If ever you should come to Modena,
Stop at a palace near the Reggio-gate
Dwelt in of old by one of the Donati.
Its noble gardens, terrace above terrace,
And rich in fountains, statues, cypresses,
Will long detain you—but, before you go,
Enter the house—forget it not, I pray you—
And look awhile upon a picture there.

'Tis of a lady in her earliest youth,
The last of that illustrious family;
Done by Zampieri—but whom I care not.
He, who observes it—ere he passes on,
Gazes his fill, and comes and comes again,
That he may call it up when far away.

She sits, inclining forward as to speak,
Her lips half open, and her finger up,
As though she said, "Beware!" Her vest of gold
Broidered with flowers and clasped from head to foot
An emerald stone in every golden clasp;
And on her brow, fairer than alabaster,
A coronet of pearls.

But then her face,
So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth,
The overflowings of an innocent heart—
It haunts me still, though many a year has fled,
Like some wild melody!

Alone it hangs
Over a mouldering heirloom; its companion,
An oaken chest, half-eaten by the worm,
But richly carved by Antony of Trent
With scripture-stories from the life of Christ;
A chest that came from Venice, and had held
The ducal robes of some old ancestors—
That by the way—it may be true or false—
But don't forget the picture; and you will not,
When you have heard the tale they told me there.

She was an only child—her name Ginevra,
The joy, the pride of an indulgent father;
And in her fifteenth year became a bride,
Marrying an only son, Francesco Doria,
Her palymate from her birth, and her first love.

Just as she looks there, in her bridal dress,
She was, all gentleness, all gayety,
Her pranks the favorite theme of every tongue.
But now the day was come, the day, the hour;
Now, frowning, smiling for the hundredth time,
The nurse, that ancient lady, preached deco'rum
And, in the luster of her youth, she gave
Her hand, with her heart in it, to Francesco.

Great was the joyl but at the nuptial feast,
When all sat down, the bride herself was wanting.
Nor was she to be found! Her father cried,
"'Tis but to make a trial of our love!"
And filled his glass to all; but his hand shook,
And soon from guest to guest the panic spread.

'Twas but that instant that she had left Francesco,
Laughing and looking back and flying still,
Her ivory tooth imprinted on his finger.
But now, alas! she was not to be found;
Nor from that hour could anything be guessed,
But taht she was not!

Weary of his life,
Francesco flew to Venice, and embarking,
Flung it away in a battle with the Turk.
Donati lived—and long might you have seen
An old man wandering as in quest of something,
Something he could not find—he knew not what.
When he was gone, the house remained awhile
Silent and tenantless—then went to strangers.

Full fifty years were past, and all forgotten,
When on an idle day, a day of search
Mid the old lumber in the gallery,
That mouldering chest was noticed; and 'twas said
By one as young, and thoughtless as Ginevra,
"Why not remove it form its lurking-place?"
'Twas done as soon as said; but on the way
It burst, it fell; and lo! a skeleton
With here and there a pearl, and emerald-stone,
A golden clasp, clasping clasping a shred of gold.
All else had perished—save a wedding ring,
And a small seal, her mother's legacy,
Engraven with a name, the name of both—"Ginevra."

—There then had she found a grave!
Within that chest had she concealed herself,
Fluttering with joy, the happiest of the happy;
When a spring lock, that lay in ambush there,
Fastened her down forever!

The End.