Ev'n now thou seest the flashing spray,
That lights his oar's impatient way;-
Ev'n now thou hear'st the sudden shock
Of his swift bark against the rock,
And stretchest down thy arms of snow,
As if to lift him from below!

Like her to whom, at dead of night,
The bridegroom, with his locks of light,*
Came, in the flush of love and pride,
And scal'd the terrace of his bride;
When, as she saw him rashly spring,
And midway up in danger cling,

She flung him down her long black hair,
Exclaiming breathless, "There, love, there!"
And scarce did manlier nerve uphold
The hero ZAL in that fond hour,

Than wings the youth who, fleet and bold,

Now climbs the rocks to HINDA's bower.
Seelight as up their granite steeps

The rock-goats of ARABIA clamber,†
Fearless from crag to crag he leaps,

And now is in the maiden's chamber.

She loves - but knows not whom she loves,

Nor what his race, nor whence he came;

* In one of the books of the Shâh Nâmeh, when Zal (a celebrated hero of Persia, remarkable for his white hair,) comes to the terrace of his mistress Rodahver at night, she lets down her long tresses to assist him in his ascent ;he, however, manages it in a less romantic way, by fixing his crook in a projecting beam. See Champion's FERDOSI.

"On the lofty hills of Arabia Petræa are rock-goats."-NIEBUHR

Like one who meets, in Indian groves,

Some beauteous bird without a name,
Brought by the last ambrosial breeze,
From isles in the' undiscover'd seas,
To show his plumage for a day
To wondering eyes, and wing away!
Will he thus fly - her nameless lover?
ALLA forbid! 'twas by a moon

As fair as this, while singing over
Some ditty to her soft Kanoon,*
Alone, at this same witching hour,
She first beheld his radiant eyes
Gleam through the lattice of the bower,
Where nightly now they mix their sighs;

And thought some spirit of the air
(For what could waft a mortal there?)
Was pausing on his moonlight way
To listen to her lonely lay!

This fancy ne'er hath left her mind:

And though, when terror's swoon had past,

Yet often since, when he hath spoke

Strange, awful words, — and gleams have broken

From his dark eyes, too bright to bear,

Oh! she hath fear'd her soul was given

To some unhallow'd child of air,

Some erring Spirit cast from heaven,

*"Canun, espèce de psaltérion, avec des cordes de boyaux; les dames en touchent dans le serrail, avec des écailles armées de points de cooc."-TODËRINL, translated by De Cournand.

Like those angelic youths of old,

Who burn'd for maids of mortal mould,
Bewilder'd left the glorious skies,

And lost their heaven for woman's eyes.
Fond girl! nor fiend nor angel he
Who woos thy young simplicity;
But one of earth's impassion'd sons,
As warm in love as fierce in ire
As the best heart whose current runs
Full of the Day-God's living fire.

But quench'd to-night that ardour seems, And pale his cheek, and sunk his brow; Never before, but in her dreams,

Had she beheld him pale as now:

And those were dreams of troubled sleep, From which 'twas joy to wake and weep; Visions, that will not be forgot,

But sadden every waking scene,

Like warning ghosts, that leave the spot All wither'd where they once have been.

"How sweetly," said the trembling maid, Of her own gentle voice afraid,

So long had they in silence stood,
Looking upon that tranquil flood-

"How sweetly does the moon-beam smile

"To-night upon yon leafy isle!

"Oft, in my fancy's wanderings,

"I've wish'd that little isle had wings,

"And we, within its fairy bowers,

"Were wafted off to seas unknown, "Where not a pulse should beat but ours, "And we might live, love, die alone! "Far from the cruel and the cold,

"Where the bright eyes of angels only "Should come around us, to behold "A paradise so pure and lonely. "Would this be world enough for thee?"— Playful she turn'd, that he might see

The passing smile her cheek put on; But when she mark'd how mournfully His eye met hers, that smile was gone, And bursting into heart-felt tears, "Yes, yes," she cried, "my hourly fears, "My dreams have boded all too right "We part-for ever part-to-night! "I knew, I knew it could not last

""Twas bright, 'twas heavenly, but 'tis past! "Oh! ever thus, from childhood's hour,

"I've seen my fondest hopes decay;

"I never loved a tree or flower,

“But 'twas the first to fade away.

"I never nursed a dear gazelle,

"To glad me with its soft black eye, "But when it came to know me well, “And love me, it was sure to die! "Now too

the joy most like divine

"Of all I ever dreamt or knew,

"To see thee, hear thee, call thee mine,

"Oh misery! must I lose that too?

"Yet go-on peril's brink we meet;

"Those frightful rocks that treacherous sea — though sweet,

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'No, never come again

66

'Though heaven, it may be death to thee. "Farewell and blessings on thy way,

"Where'er thou go'st, beloved stranger! "Better to sit and watch that ray,

"And think thee safe, though far away,
"Than have thee near me, and in danger!"

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"Danger!·

oh, tempt me not to boast—”

The youth exclaim'd

"thou little know'st

"What he can brave, who, born and nurst
"In Danger's paths, has dar'd her worst;
"Upon whose ear the signal-word

"Of strife and death is hourly breaking;
"Who sleeps with head upon the sword
"His fever'd hand must grasp in waking.
"Danger!

"I now fear nothing but those eyes.
"If aught on earth could charm or force

"My spirit from its destin'd course,

"If aught could make this soul forget
"The bond to which its seal is set,
""Twould be those eyes; — they, only they,

"Could melt that sacred seal away!