But it grew late; cold blew the gale;

Dark was the valley and the wood

slept o'er the river misty grown.

Behind the mountain sank the moon.

Long, long the hour had past when home

Our youthful wanderer should roam.

She hid the trouble of her breast,

Heaved an involuntary sigh

And turned to leave immediately,

But first permission did request

Thither in future to proceed

That certain volumes she might read.

XIX.

Adieu she to the matron said

At the front gates, but in brief space

At early morn returns the maid

To the abandoned dwelling-place.

When in the study's calm retreat,

Wrapt in oblivion complete,

She found herself alone at last,

Longtime her tears flowed thick and fast;

But presently she tried to read;

At first for books was disinclined,

But soon their choice seemed to her mind

Remarkable. She then indeed

Devoured them with an eager zest.

A new world was made manifest!

XX.

Although we know that Eugene had

Long ceased to be a reading man,

Still certain authors, I may add,

He had excepted from the ban:

The bard of Juan and the Giaour,

With it may be a couple more;

Romances three, in which ye scan