"Enough, that Guilt reigns here--that hearts, once "good, “Now tainted, chill'd and broken, are his food.-- 66 Enough, that we are parted--that there rolls Almost to madness--" by that sacred Heav'n, "By the remembrance of our once pure love, "I do conjure, implore thee to fly hence- 66 "With thee! oh bliss, ""Tis worth whole years of torment to hear this. "What! take the lost one with thee? let her rove 66 "By thy dear side, as in those days of love, "When we were both so happy, both so pure-- "And in their light re-chasten'd silently, “And thou wilt pray for me--I know thou wilt- 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- ""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 moon-light 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, ob God! 'tis all too true, "True as the worm in this cold heart it is-"I am MOKANNA's bride-his, Azım, his→→→ "The Dead stood round us, while I spoke that vow, "Their blue lips echoed 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 Heav'n'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-for ever!” 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, is all sweetness on one side, and all bitterness on the other. 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,) 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 till entirely out of sight, the return of the beloved object was considered as certain. LALLA ROOKH, as they moved on, more than once looked back, to observe how the yound Hindoo's lamp proceeded; and, while she saw with pleasure that it was still unextinguished, she could not help fearing that all the hopes of this life were no better than that feeble light upon the river. The remainder of the journey was passed in silence. She now, for the first time, felt that shade of melancholy, which comes over the youthful maiden's heart, as sweet and transient as her own breath upon a mirror; nor was it till she heard the lute of FERAMORZ, touched lightly at the door of her pavilion, that she waked from the reverie in which she had been wandering. Instantly her eyes were lighted up with pleasure, and, after a few unheard remarks from FADLADEEN upon the indecorum of a poet seating himself in presence of a Princess, every thing was arranged as on the preceding evening, and all listened with eagerness, while the story was thus continued: G |