PART II

The dwelling of this faithful pair In a straggling village stood, For One who breathed unquiet air A dangerous neighbourhood; But wide around lay forest ground 5 With thickets rough and blind; And pine-trees made a heavy shade Impervious to the wind.

And there, sequestered from the sight, Was spread a treacherous swamp, 10 On which the noon-day sun shed light As from a lonely lamp; And midway in the unsafe morass, A single Island rose Of firm dry ground, with healthful grass 15 Adorned, and shady boughs.

The Woodman knew, for such the craft This Russian vassal plied, That never fowler's gun, nor shaft Of archer, there was tried; 20 A sanctuary seemed the spot From all intrusion free; And there he planned an artful Cot For perfect secrecy.

With earnest pains unchecked by dread 25 Of Power's far-stretching hand, The bold good Man his labour sped At nature's pure command; Heart-soothed, and busy as a wren, While, in a hollow nook, 30 She moulds her sight-eluding den Above a murmuring brook.

His task accomplished to his mind, The twain ere break of day Creep forth, and through the forest wind 35 Their solitary way; Few words they speak, nor dare to slack Their pace from mile to mile, Till they have crossed the quaking marsh, And reached the lonely Isle. 40

The sun above the pine-trees showed A bright and cheerful face; And Ina looked for her abode, The promised hiding-place; She sought in vain, the Woodman smiled; 45 No threshold could be seen, Nor roof, nor window;--all seemed wild As it had ever been.

Advancing, you might guess an hour, The front with such nice care 50 Is masked, "if house it be or bower," But in they entered are; As shaggy as were wall and roof With branches intertwined, So smooth was all within, air-proof, 55 And delicately lined:

And hearth was there, and maple dish, And cups in seemly rows, And couch--all ready to a wish For nurture or repose; 60 And Heaven doth to her virtue grant That there[657] she may abide In solitude, with every want By cautious love supplied.

No queen, before a shouting crowd, 65 Led on in bridal state, E'er struggled with a heart so proud, Entering her palace gate; Rejoiced to bid the world farewell, No saintly anchoress 70 E'er took possession of her cell With deeper thankfulness.

"Father of all, upon thy care And mercy am I thrown; Be thou my safeguard!"--such her prayer 75 When she was left alone, Kneeling amid the wilderness When joy had passed away, And smiles, fond efforts of distress To hide what they betray![658] 80

The prayer is heard, the Saints have seen, Diffused through form and face, Resolves devotedly serene; That monumental grace Of Faith, which doth[659] all passions tame 85 That Reason _should_ control; And shows in the untrembling frame A statue of the soul.