Oh! colder than the wind that freezes Founts, that but now in sunshine play'd, Is that congealing pang which seizes The trusting bosom, when betray'd. He felt it deeply felt and stood, As if the tale had froz'n his blood, So maz'd and motionless was he; Like one whom sudden spells enchant, Or some mute, marble habitant Of the still Halls of ISHMONIE! 4. But soon the painful chill was o'er, Did that high spirit loftier rise; His looks are lifted to the skies, 4 For an account of Ishmonie, the petrified city in Upper Egypt, where it is said there are many statues of men, women, &c. to be seen to this day, v. Perry's View of the Levant. As if the signal-lights of Fate Were shining in those awful eyes! Yet shall his death-hour leave a track The suffering brave, shall long look back With proud regret, — and by its light Watch through the hours of slavery's night For vengeance on the' oppressor's crimes! This rock, his monument aloft, Shall speak the tale to many an age; And hither bards and heroes oft Shall come in secret pilgrimage, And bring their warrior sons, and tell never to forgive The' accursed race, whose ruthless chain Blood, blood alone can cleanse again! Such are the swelling thoughts that now 5 On the red wreath, for martyrs twin'd, More proudly than the youth surveys That pile, which through the gloom behind, Half lighted by the altar's fire, Glimmers, his destin'd funeral pyre! Heap'd by his own, his comrades' hands, To perish there, when hope was o'er The few, to whom that couch of flame, Is sweet and welcome as the bed For their own infant Prophet spread, 5 Jesus. When pitying Heav'n to roses turn'd The death-flames that beneath him burn'd! With watchfulness the maid attends His rapid glance, where'er it bends — Why shoot his eyes such awful beams? What plans he now? what thinks or dreams? She kneeling cries-"first, last ador'd! "Half what thy lips impassion'd swore, "Here, on my knees that never knelt "To any but their God before, "I pray thee, as thou lov'st me, fly "Now, now ere yet their blades are nigh. "Oh haste - the bark that bore me hither "Can waft us o'er yon darkening sea "East west-alas, I care not whither, "So thou art safe, and I with thee! 6 The Ghebers say that when Abraham, their great Prophet, was thrown into the fire by order of Nimrod, the flame turned instantly into "a bed of roses, where the child sweetly reposed." Tavernier. "Go where we will, this hand in thine, "Those eyes before me smiling thus, Through good and ill, through storm and shine, "The world's a world of love for us! "On some calm, blessed shore we'll dwell, 66 away, Together kneeling, night and day, "Thou, for my sake, at ALLA's shrine, "And I at any God's, for thine !" Wildly these passionate words she spoke – With every deep-heav'd sob that came. If, for a moment, pride and fame, His oath his cause that shrine of flame, And IRAN's self are all forgot For her whom at his feet he sees, Kneeling in speechless agonies. |