Who could have thought, that there, ev'n there, Amid those scenes so still and fair, The Demon of the Plague hath cast From his hot wing a deadlier blast, Of human shape, touch'd by his wing, The sun went down on many a brow, Is rankling in the pest-house now, And oh! to see the' unburied heaps The very vultures turn away, Only the fierce hyæna stalks" Throughout the city's desolate walks 8 Jackson, speaking of the plague that occurred in West Barbary, when he was there, says, "The birds of the air fled away from The hyenas, on the contrary, visited the the abodes of men. cemeteries," &c. Woe to the half-dead wretch, who meets The glaring of those large blue eyes Amid the darkness of the streets! 9 "Poor race of Men !" said the pitying Spirit, "Dearly ye pay for your primal Fall "Some flow'rets of Eden ye still inherit, "But the trail of the Serpent is over them all!" She wept the air grew pure and clear Around her, as the bright drops ran; For there's a magic in each tear, Such kindly Spirits weep for man! Just then beneath some orange trees, Whose fruit and blossoms in the breeze Were wantoning together, free, Like age at play with infancy Beneath that fresh and springing bower, Of one who, at this silent hour, Had thither stol'n to die alone. 9 Bruce, One who in life, where'er he mov'd, Dies here, unseen, unwept by any! The fire that in his bosom lies, With ev'n a sprinkle from that lake, Deserted youth! one thought alone L Safe in her father's princely halls, Where the cool airs from fountain falls, Freshly perfum'd by many a brand Of the sweet wood from India's land, Were pure as she whose brow they fann'd. But see, who yonder comes by stealth, This melancholy bower to seek, Like a young envoy, sent by Health, 'Tis she-far off, through moonlight dim, Than live to gain the world beside! His livid cheek to hers she presses, An hour would come, when he should shrink Those gentle arms, that were to him Holy as is the cradling place Of Eden's infant cherubim ! And now he yields now turns away, Shuddering as if the venom lay All in those proffer'd lips alone Those lips that, then so fearless grown, Near his unask'd or without shame. "Oh! let me only breathe the air, "The blessed air, that's breath'd by thee, "And, whether on its wings it bear Healing or death, 'tis sweet to me! "There, drink my tears, while yet they fall, "Would that my bosom's blood were balm, "And, well thou know'st, I'd shed it all, "To give thy brow one minute's calm. 66 Nay, turn not from me that dear face "Am I not thine - thy own lov'd bride· "The one, the chosen one, whose place "In life or death is by thy side! "Think'st thou that she, whose only light, "In this dim world, from thee hath shone, "Could bear the long, the cheerless night, "That must be hers, when thou art gone? |