Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain,
And memory, like a drop that, night and day,
Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away.
Didst thou but know how pale I sat at home,
My eyes still turn'd the way thou wert to come,
And, all the long, long night of hope and fear,
Thy voice and step still sounding in my ear-
O God! thou wouldst not wonder that, at last,
When every hope was all at once o'ercast,
When I heard frightful voices round me say,
Azim is dead! - this wretched brain gave way,
And I became a wreck, at random driven,
Without one glimpse of reason or of Heaven
All wild- and even this quenchless love within
Turn'd to foul fires to light me into sin! —

Thou pitiest me - I knew thou wouldst - that sky
Hath nought beneath it half so lorn as I.
The fiend who lur'd me hither-hist! come near,
Or thou too, thou art lost, if he should hear-
Told me such things-oh! with such devilish art
As would have ruin'd even a holier heart-
Of thee, and of that ever-radiant sphere,
Where bless'd at length, if I but serv'd him here,
I should forever live in thy dear sight,
And drink from those pure eyes eternal light.
Think, think how lost, how madden'd I must be,
To hope that guilt could lead to God or thee!
Thou weep'st for me — do weep-oh, that I durst
Kiss off that tear! but, no - these lips are curst,
They must not touch thee;
one divine caress,
One blessed moment of forgetfulness

I've had within those arms, and that shall lie,
Shrin'd in my soul's deep memory till I die;
The last of joy's last relics here below,
The one sweet drop, in all this waste of woe,

My heart has treasur'd from affection's spring,
To soothe and cool its deadly withering!

But thou - yes, thou must go

- forever go;

This place is not for thee - for thee! oh no!

Did I but tell thee half, thy tortur'd brain

Would burn like mine, and mine grow wild again!

Enough, that Guilt reigns here—that hearts, once

good,

Now tainted, chill'd, and broken, are his food. -
Enough, that we are parted—that there rolls
A flood of headlong fate between our souls,
Whose darkness severs me as wide from thee
As hell from heaven, to all eternity!"

"ZELICA, ZELICA!" the youth exclaim'd, In all the tortures of a mind inflam'd

Almost to madness-"by that sacred Heaven,
Where yet, if prayers can move, thou'lt be forgiven,
As thou art here - here, in this writhing heart,
All sinful, wild, and ruin'd as thou art! Ka
By the remembrance of our once pure love,
Which, like a churchyard light, still burns above
The grave of our lost souls. - which guilt in thee
Cannot extinguish, nor despair in me!

I do conjure, implore thee to fly hence-
If thou hast yet one spark of innocence,
Fly with me from this place

"With thee! oh bliss!

'Tis worth whole years of torment to hear this.
What! take the lost one with thee?-let her rove
By thy dear side, as in those days of love,
When we were both so happy, both so pure
Too heavenly dream! if there's on earth a cure

For the sunk heart, 'tis this day after day

-

To be the blest companion of thy way;

To hear thy angel eloquence- to see
Those virtuous eyes forever turn'd on me;
And, in their light re-chasten'd silently,
Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun,
Grow pure by being purely shone upon!

And thou wilt pray for me - I know thou wilt-
At the dim vesper hour, when thoughts of guilt
Come heaviest o'er the heart, thou❜lt lift thine eyes,
Full of sweet tears, unto the dark'ning skies,
And plead for me with Heaven, till I can dare
To fix my own weak, sinful glances there;
Till the good angels, when they see me cling
Forever near thee, pale and sorrowing,
Shall for thy sake pronounce my soul forgiven,
And bid thee take thy weeping slave to Heaven!
Oh yes, I'll fly with thee

Scarce had she said

These breathless words, when a voice deep and dread As that of MONKER, waking up the dead

From their first sleep so startling 'twas to both

Rung through the casement near, "Thy oath! thy

oath!"

Oh Heaven, the ghastliness of that Maid's look!

""Tis he," faintly she cried, while terror shook

Her inmost core, nor durst she lift her eyes,

Though through the casement, now, nought but the

skies

And moonlit fields were seen, calm as before -
""Tis he, and I am his — all, all is o'er
Go-fly this instant, or thou'rt ruin'd too-
My oath, my oath, O God! 'tis all too true,
True as the worm in this cold heart it is

I am MOKANNA's bride-his, Azıм, his
The Dead stood round us, while I spoke that vow;

Their blue lips echo'd it — I hear them now!

Their eyes glar'd on me, while I pledg'd that bowl: 'Twas burning blood - I feel it in

my

soul!

And the Veil'd Bridegroom -hist! I've seen to-night What angels know not of so foul a sight,

So horrible.

oh! never may'st thou see

What there lies hid from all but hell and me!

But I must hence-off, off-I am not thine,

Nor Heaven's, nor Love's, nor aught that is divine — Hold me not-ha! think'st thou the fiends that sever Hearts, cannot sunder hands? - thus, then-forever!"

With all that strength which madness lends the weak,

She flung away his arm; and, with a shriek,

Whose sound, though he should linger out more years.
Than wretch e'er told, can never leave his ears
Flew up through that long avenue of light,
Fleetly as some dark, ominous bird of night
Across the sun, and soon was out of sight!

LALLA ROOKH could think of nothing all day but the misery of these two young lovers. Her gayety was gone, and she looked pensively even upon FADLADEEN. She felt, too, without knowing why, a sort of uneasy pleasure in imagining that AzIM must have been just such a youth as FERAMORZ; just as worthy to enjoy all the blessings, without any of the pangs, of that illusive passion which too often, like the sunny apples of Istkahar,96 is all sweetness on one side, and all bitterness on the other.

97

As they passed along a sequestered river after sunset, they saw a young Hindoo girl upon the bank, whose employment seemed to them so strange that they stopped their palankeens to observe her. She had lighted a small lamp, filled with oil of cocoa, and, placing it in an earthen dish, adorned with a wreath of flowers, had committed it with a trembling hand to the stream; and was now anxiously watching its progress down the current, heedless of the gay cavalcade which had drawn up beside her. LALLA ROOKH was all curiosity; — when one of her attendants, who had lived upon the banks of the Ganges (where this ceremony is so frequent, that often, in the dusk of the evening, the river is seen glittering all over with lights, like the Oton-tala, or Sea of Stars 98), informed the Princess that it was the usual way in which the friends of those who had gone on dangerous voyages offered up vows for their safe return. If the lamp sunk immediately, the omen was disastrous; but if it went shining down the stream, and continued to burn until entirely out of sight, the return of the beloved object was considered as certain.