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amiable Daughter。 The preparations for the elopement would not
permit his visiting them the next day； But in the meanwhile He
desired Lorenzo to assure them of his friendship； and to supply
Elvira upon his account with any sums which She might want。 This
the Youth promised to do； as soon as her abode should be known to
him： He then took leave of his future Brother； and returned to
the Palace de Medina。
The day was already on the point of breaking when the Marquis
retired to his chamber。 Conscious that his narrative would take
up some hours； and wishing to secure himself from interruption
on returning to the Hotel； He ordered his Attendants not to sit
upfor him。 Consequently； He was somewhat surprised on entering
his Antiroom； to find Theodore established there。 The Page sat
near a Table with a pen in his hand； and was so totally occupied
by his employment that He perceived not his Lord's approach。 The
Marquis stopped to observe him。 Theodore wrote a few lines； then
paused； and scratched out a part of the writing： Then wrote
again； smiled； and seemed highly pleased with what He had been
about。 At last He threw down his pen； sprang from his chair； and
clapped his hands together joyfully。
'There it is！' cried He aloud： 'Now they are charming！'
His transports were interrupted by a laugh from the Marquis； who
suspected the nature of his employment。
'What is so charming； Theodore？'
The Youth started； and looked round。 He blushed； ran to the
Table； seized the paper on which He had been writing； and
concealed it in confusion。
'Oh！ my Lord； I knew not that you were so near me。 Can I be of
use to you？ Lucas is already gone to bed。'
'I shall follow his example when I have given my opinion of your
verses。'
'My verses； my Lord？'
'Nay； I am sure that you have been writing some； for nothing else
could have kept you awake till this time of the morning。 Where
are they； Theodore？ I shall like to see your composition。'
Theodore's cheeks glowed with still deeper crimson： He longed to
show his poetry； but first chose to be pressed for it。
'Indeed； my Lord； they are not worthy your attention。'
'Not these verses； which you just now declared to be so charming？
Come； come； let me see whether our opinions are the same。 I
promise that you shall find in me an indulgent Critic。'
The Boy produced his paper with seeming reluctance； but the
satisfaction which sparkled in his dark expressive eyes betrayed
the vanity of his little bosom。 The Marquis smiled while He
observed the emotions of an heart as yet but little skilled in
veiling its sentiments。 He seated himself upon a Sopha：
Theodore； while Hope and fear contended on his anxious
countenance； waited with inquietude for his Master's decision；
while the Marquis read the following lines。
LOVE AND AGE
The night was dark； The wind blew cold；
Anacreon； grown morose and old；
Sat by his fire； and fed the chearful flame：
Sudden the Cottage…door expands；
And lo！ before him Cupid stands；
Casts round a friendly glance； and greets him by his name。
'What is it Thou？' the startled Sire
In sullen tone exclaimed； while ire
With crimson flushed his pale and wrinkled cheek：
'Wouldst Thou again with amorous rage
Inflame my bosom？ Steeled by age；
Vain Boy； to pierce my breast thine arrows are too weak。
'What seek You in this desart drear？
No smiles or sports inhabit here；
Ne'er did these vallies witness dalliance sweet：
Eternal winter binds the plains；
Age in my house despotic reigns；
My Garden boasts no flower； my bosom boasts no heat。
'Begone； and seek the blooming bower；
Where some ripe Virgin courts thy power；
Or bid provoking dreams flit round her bed；
On Damon's amorous breast repose；
Wanton…on Chloe's lip of rose；
Or make her blushing cheek a pillow for thy head。
'Be such thy haunts； These regions cold
Avoid！ Nor think grown wise and old
This hoary head again thy yoke shall bear：
Remembering that my fairest years
By Thee were marked with sighs and tears；
I think thy friendship false； and shun the guileful snare。
'I have not yet forgot the pains
I felt； while bound in Julia's chains；
The ardent flames with which my bosom burned；
The nights I passed deprived of rest；
The jealous pangs which racked my breast；
My disappointed hopes； and passion unreturned。
'Then fly； and curse mine eyes no more！
Fly from my peaceful Cottage…door！
No day； no hour； no moment shalt Thou stay。
I know thy falsehood； scorn thy arts；
Distrust thy smiles； and fear thy darts；
Traitor； begone； and seek some other to betray！'
'Does Age； old Man； your wits confound？'
Replied the offended God； and frowned；
（His frown was sweet as is the Virgin's smile！）
'Do You to Me these words address？
To Me； who do not love you less；
Though You my friendship scorn； and pleasures past revile！
'If one proud Fair you chanced to find；
An hundred other Nymphs were kind；
Whose smiles might well for Julia's frowns atone：
But such is Man！ His partial hand
Unnumbered favours writes on sand；
But stamps one little fault on solid lasting stone。
'Ingrate！ Who led Thee to the wave；
At noon where Lesbia loved to lave？
Who named the bower alone where Daphne lay？
And who； when Caelia shrieked for aid；
Bad you with kisses hush the Maid？
What other was't than Love； Oh！ false Anacreon； say！
'Then You could call me''Gentle Boy！
''My only bliss！ my source of joy ！''
Then You could prize me dearer than your soul！
Could kiss； and dance me on your knees；
And swear； not wine itself would please；
Had not the lip of Love first touched the flowing bowl！
'Must those sweet days return no more？
Must I for aye your loss deplore；
Banished your heart； and from your favour driven？
Ah！ no； My fears that smile denies；
That heaving breast； those sparkling eyes
Declare me ever dear and all my faults forgiven。
'Again beloved； esteemed； carest；
Cupid shall in thine arms be prest；
Sport on thy knees； or on thy bosom sleep：
My Torch thine age…struck heart shall warm；
My Hand pale Winter's rage disarm；
And Youth and Spring shall here once more their revels keep。'
A feather now of golden hue
He smiling from his pinion drew；
This to the Poet's hand the Boy commits；
And straight before Anacreon's eyes
The fairest dreams of fancy rise；
And round his favoured head wild inspiration flits。
His bosom glows with amorous fire
Eager He grasps the magic lyre；
Swift o'er the tuneful chords his fingers move：
The Feather plucked from Cupid's wing
Sweeps the too…long…neglected string；
While soft Anacreon sings the power
and praise of Love。
Soon as that name was heard； the Woods
Shook off their snows； The melting floods
Broke their cold chains； and Winter fled away。
Once more the earth was deckt with flowers；
Mild Zephyrs breathed through blooming bowers；
High towered the glorious Sun； and poured the blaze of day。
Attracted by the harmonious sound；
Sylvans and Fauns the Cot surround；
And curious crowd the Minstrel to behold：
The Wood…nymphs haste the spell to prove；
Eager They run； They list； they love；
And while They hear the strain； forget the Man is old。
Cupid； to nothing constant long；
Perched on the Harp attends the song；
Or stifles with a kiss the dulcet notes：
Now on the Poet's breast reposes；
Now twines his hoary locks with roses；
Or borne on wings of gold in wanton circle floats。
Then thus Anacreon'I no more
At other shrine my vows will pour；
Since Cupid deigns my numbers to inspire：
From Phoebus or the blue…eyed Maid
Now shall my verse request no aid；
For Love alone shall be the Patron of my Lyre。
'In lofty strain； of earlier days；
I spread the King's or Hero's praise；
And struck the martial Chords with epic fire：
But farewell； Hero！ farewell； King！
Your deeds my lips no more shall sing；
For Love alone shall b