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Forgets the Koran in his Mary's smile ;-
Then beckons some kind angel from above
With a new text to consecrate their love. 92

With rapid step, yet pleas'd and ling’ring eye, Did the youth pass these pictur'd stories by, And hastend to a casement, where the light Of the calm moon came in, and freshly bright The fields without were seen, sleeping as still As if no life remain’d in breeze or rill. Here paus'd he, while the music, now less near, Breath'd with a holier language on his ear, As though the distance, and that heavenly ray Through which the sounds came floating, took away All that had been too earthly in the lay.

Oh! could he listen to such sounds unmov'd, And by that light-nor dream of her he lov'd ? Dream on, unconscious boy ! while yet thou may'st ; 'Tis the last bliss thy soul shall ever taste. Clasp yet awhile her image to thy heart, Ere all the light, that made it dear, depart. Think of her smiles as when thou saw'st them last, Clear, beautiful, by nought of earth o'ercast; Recall her tears, to thee at parting given, Pure as they weep, if angels weep, in Heaven. Think, in her own still bower she waits thee now, With the same glow of heart and bloom of brow, Yet shrin'd in solitude--thine all, thine only, Like the one star above thee, bright and lonely. Oh! that a dream so sweet, so long enjoy'd, Should be so sadly, cruelly destroy'd !


The song is hush’d, the laughing nymphs are flown, And he is left, musing of bliss, alone ;Alone ?-no, not alone—that heavy sigh, That sob of grief, which broke from some one nigh— Whose could it be?-alas ! is misery found Here, even here, on this enchanted ground? He turns, and sees a female form, close veil'd, Leaning, as if both heart and strength had fail'd, Against a pillar near ; --not glittering o'er With gems and wreaths, such as the others wore, But in that deep-blue, melancholy dress, 93 BOKHARA's maidens wear in mindfulness Of friends or kindred, dead or far away ;And such as ZELICA had on that day

He left her—when, with heart too full to speak,
He took away her last warm tears upon his cheek.


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A strange emotion stirs within him,-more
Than mere compassion ever wak'd before ;
Unconsciously he opes his arms, while she
Springs forward, as with life's last energy,
But, swooning in that one convulsive bound,
Sinks, ere she reach his arms, upon the ground ;-
Her veil falls off-her faint hands clasp his knees-
'Tis she herself!-'tis Zelica he sees !
But, ah, so pale, so chang’d-none but a lover
Could in that wreck of beauty's shrine discover
The once ador'd divinity-even he
Stood for some moments mute, and doubtingly
Put back the ringlets from her brow, and gaz'd
Upon those lids, where once such lustre blaz’d,
Ere he could think she was indeed his own,
Own darling maid, whom he so long had known
In joy and sorrow, beautiful in both ;
Who, even when grief was heaviest--when loth
He left her for the wars-in that worst hour
Sat in her sorrow like the sweet night-flower, 94
When darkness brings its weeping glories out,
And spreads its sighs like frankincense about."

“ Look up, my ZELICA—one moment show “ Those gentle eyes to me, that I


“ Thy life, thy loveliness is not all gone,
“ But there, at least, shines as it ever shone.
“Come, look upon thy Azin-one dear glance,
“ Like those of old, were heaven ! whatever chance

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“ Hath brought thee here, oh, 'twas a blessed one !

There—my lov'd lips--they move—that kiss hath run “ Like the first shoot of life through every vein, “ And now I clasp her, mine, all mine again. “Oh the delight-now, in this very hour, “ When had the whole rich world been in my power, " I should have singled out thee, only thee, “ From the whole world's collected treasury

“ To have thee here—to hang thus fondly o'er “My own, best, purest ZELICA once more !”

It was indeed the touch of those fond lips
Upon her eyes that chas'd their short eclipse ;
And, gradual as the snow, at Heaven's breath,
Melts off and shows the azure flowers beneath,
Her lids unclos’d, and the bright eyes were seen
Gazing on his-not, as they late had been,
Quick, restless, wild, but mournfully serene ;
As if to lie, even for that tranced minute,
So near his heart, had consolation in it ;
And thus to wake in his belov'd caress
Took from her soul one half its wretchedness.
But, when she heard him call her good and pure,
Oh, 'twas too much—too dreadful to endure !
Shudd'ring she broke away from his embrace,
And, hiding with both hands her guilty face,
Said, in a tone whose anguish would have riven
A heart of very marble, “Pure !-oh, Heaven !"-

That tone—those looks so chang’d—the withering blight That sin and sorrow leave where'er they light ; The dead despondency of those sunk eyes, Where once, had he thus met her by surprise, He would have seen himself, too happy boy, Reflected in a thousand lights of joy ; And then the place,—that bright, unholy place, Where vice lay hid beneath each winning grace And charm of luxury, as the viper weaves Its wily covering of sweet balsam leaves, 95. All struck upon his heart, sudden and cold

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