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The joy of danger, Glory's fiery bliss,
Earth's smile, and Heaven's aspirings, all are His.
But woman! Man's pale satellite is she,
To light his path, and then forgotten be;
The victim on Love's altar still to lie,
While man, the brilliant flame, ascends the sky,


My father, whose delight was still in war, Fell in the distant battles of the Czar; My mother's angel form, and fond caress, Fled like a dream of infant blessedness; Alone, the desert's daughter sadly grew In this lone castle, 'mid a servile crew Of abject slaves, whom conscious meanness bade Worship the idol which themselves had made. Ill brooks the noble spirit, and the free, To dwell, where all around is slavery !



Say hast thou seen upon the boundless plain Our lovely wild steeds, guiltless of the rein ? Light as the fawn the desert turf they spurn, Brave as the hero, for the fight they burn; With ears erect, they snuff the danger nigh, A moment stand, then to the battle fly, Their own wild battle, where, by barbarous steel Ungoaded, in untutor'd ranks they wheel! Blest children of the desert! Oh, how fair, How unconfined, how happy are ye there!

“ Oft have I woo'd the beauteous forms to stay, Where my tamed Tartar bore me on their way, On the rein'd slave they gazed with proud disdain, Then bounded to their native wilds again!

“ No more the castle's stillness might be borne ; Madly I woo'd the chase ; with hound and horn Drove the keen wolf, and savage boar, to bay, And rescued from the bear his trembling prey. Nature alone, alas ! we conquer notUpon the throne, as in the lowly cot, Huntress, or shepherd maid upon the hill, Sovereign or slave, is woman, woman still, A feeble vine, whose tendrils sadly fade If the supporting elm deny its shade, One who her being's half must fondly win, Whose every joy is born-a lovely twin! Now somewhat in my side began to beat, Which had been painful, were it not so sweet ; Methought some angel wafted me on high To starry palaces beyond the sky, Then would I, wearied, fold again my wings Amid those lovely but neglected things Of earth, 'mid which my happy childhood grew. Ye flowers of every scent and every hue !

Thou hill of sunshine, and thou shady grove !
Thou crystal brook, still murmuring songs of love,
To me ye seem'd inanimate no more,
I loved ye, as I ne'er had loved before
Myself alone unprized—a loftier flame
My spirit panted after-and it came,”-
She falter'd-o'er her cheek averted, spread
Love's matchless tint, celestial
And that soft smile, which in a lover's eyes
The half-told tale a thousand-fold supplies.

rosy red,”


The nightingale was singing clear and loud,
The moon stood listening from his silver cloud,
When, warm as life, and true as death, a kiss
Dissolved their souls in harmony of bliss.
The mingling breath ascended to the skies
Like blended flames from one

pure sacrifice.
For them the world stood still, and Time had laid
His hour-glass, all forgetful, in the shade.
Yes! mortal hours their courses must fulfil;
Rapture or agony are measured still;
But Death's cold kiss, and the warm kiss of Love,
Are children of Eternity above !

The blest ones !- Earth upon her funeral pile
Had blazed—and they unconscious stood the while;
Its mighty bulwarks been in fragments hurld,
And they not wak'd amid a falling world.
Thus fondly lock'd together, mouth to mouth,
Had stood these Genii of the North and South;
And past unheeding, even that bridge of sighs,
That severs human bliss from Paradise !

First came young Axel from his heaven-ward flight, “ Now ,by my soul, I swear !-by Sweden's might!By the North’s honour !—by those stars that shine Like bridal guests !—by earth and heaven ! thou'rt mine! Oh that my soul were free this blessed hour With thee to live or die in peaceful bow'r ! But ah! the pallid spectre of a vow With glance reproachful stands between us now. I feel, alas! its icy finger rest On the warm surface of my faithful breast. Fear not !-this hand, which dares not break, shall loose The bond abhorr’d; and when May's rosy dews Earth's icy fetters have alike untied, Axel, released, shall fly to claim his bride.Farewell, my soul's far dearer part !

Till then, Linda, farewell !—It ne'er shall be again."

By duty urged, now Axel spurr'd his way Through the Czar's hostile armies; oft by day Lurking in woods; but, like the arrow's flight, Urging his fiery courser through the night

Still guided by the Pole's unsetting star,
And the bright wheels of Charles's northern Car,
Till, safe arriving on the Swedish strand,
The monarch's packet reach'd its destined hand.

How fares young Linda ? Oft, in her lone halls, Vainly on Axel's name the sad one calls ! The rustling woods have learn'd with it to sigh, And taught the mountain echoes to reply. How oft did Fancy, self-tormentor now, Brood o'er the mystery of Axel's vow, Till, to the widow'd heart, the maddening thought Of some fond earlier love it wildly brought.



“ Dread, northern maid! the South's fierce rivalry: Earth may not hold us; thou or I must die ! Behind thy snow-clad hills, and frozen wave, I come to seek thee; and they shall not save.Peace, idle ravings! hence, chimeras wild ! Left Axel not his native land a child ? Since then a dweller in that camp’s rude scene, Where timid love has still a stranger been ?Sat falsehood e'er on brow so proudly high ? Lurk'd treachery ever in that clear blue eye, Through whose pure depths his soul reflected lay, As the fresh silver fount transmits the day?What then thy vow? Oh, does it bid thee break This faithful heart ? --Alas! in vain I wake These native echoes; far between us roll Hoarse dashing billows, restless as my soul: And the lone murmur of the widow'd dove Dies in the hollow whisperings of the grove.He hears me not !-Oh, let me to him fly, And on his faithful bosom seek reply ! If woman's fragile form must danger shun, Let me but bear a sword-and I am none. Oft have I play'd with death in perils past; Oft, careless, staked my life upon a cast; Oft have I to my gallant courser grown, And still unerring has mine arrow flown.-Sure 'tis a God inspires the blest design!Oh, Axel, Axel, thou again art mine Farewell, farewell, my father's hallow'd home, 'Tis but to bring thee peace and bliss I roam. Welcome, wild War! thy eagle wings expand, And bear a warrior-maid to Axel's land ! But, gentler Night! thy veil in pity lend, To bear her safely to her bosom's friend.” 'Twas said, 'twas done! in woman's soul of flame, To will and execute, are still the same!

Who but a loving maiden e'er had dream'd
Of reaching Sweden ? --who but she had deem'd
The journey light that bade her wondering see
The frozen confines of Czar Peter's Sea ?

Where the Nortli's future Empress on her bay
Already like a new-born Hydra lay-
Wreathed in the sunny sand, one might descry
The latent mischief in her treacherous eye;
The fangs already are with venom hung;
Already fiercely darts the cloven tongue,
Wanting but power, as now, to rend the spoil,
And strew with vassal crowns the vanquish'd soil.


The sea with barks was studded-death they bore, Vengeance and flame, to Scandinavia's shoreSad mission for a heart to Sweden given ! Yet did the maid, by love and madness driven, Strive, vainly strive, amid the helm's dark plume, To veil her midnight tresses' kindred gloom; The all-unwonted cuirass rudely prest Th' indignant heavings of her snowy breast; O’er a soft shoulder Grecian art might frame, Strangely reposed the carbine's mouth of flame; While from that cestus Grecian lays record, (By love himself suspended,) hung the sword ! A place she sought amid the hostile crewHer form disguised, this scornful comment drew : “ Fond stripling! to the Swedish maids thy charms More fatal seem, than to the foe thine arms !” Reluctant granted, yet at length prevailed Her fond entreaty-and the vessels sailed! Bright glow'd the Scandinavian summer eve, When Sotaskär must once again receive Love's victim. Long tradition mark'd the place Where brave Hialmar lock'd in last embrace Fair Ingeborg—at Fame's resistless call The youth descended to dark Odin's hall ; And still fond Fancy on the rock descried The hovering phantom of the widow'd bride.

Now spread along the shores the wild alarm ; Vain the loud Tocsin, and the call to armThe land's defenders lived not, or were far ; And feebly rose, in mockery of war, Old men and children, who the banners flung That long in mould’ring state had idly hung, O'er rusty weapons, kept the halls to grace With stern memorials of a mightier race. Yet fought they, as men fight when more than life Hangs on the issue. Desperate grew the strife, When, like war's fiery angel, Axel sprung Into their ranks, and cried, with loyal tongue, “ God and King Charles !”—A thousand voices gave Back the proud shout ; and like one mighty wave At once advancing, with impetuous shock They swept the hostile legions from the rock,

The land was rescued, and the Russians fled; And Sweden's sole invaders-were the dead !

As, like a sated raven, brooded Night
O'er this still host, and the moon's glimmering light
On corses rested-wander'd Axel forth
Amid the rival offspring of the North.
In pairs they lay united, foe with foe!
Yes! he who would not seek in vain below
Union, beyond the severing power of fate,
Must seek it in the iron grasp of hate;
Love's fondest, holiest clasp, may be entwined
By death relentless, or a world unkind ;
But the fierce gripe of foemen can defy
The mortal pangs

of life's last agony !
'Twas silence all-when hark ! a sound that broke
Death's solemn stillness—surely some one spoke-
Some one? ay, none but one ; that voice had power
To summon back yon blessed Cossack bower-
It breathed his name; it softly bade him bring
Love's cordial to a spirit on the wing:-

you be Linda ? - In the youth reclined
On yonder rock, can I my

true love find ?"
The moon, from clouds emerging, bade him see
Too well, too sadly, surely-it was She!

“ Can

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Once more upon his faithful bosom laid,
Her fond confession sigh’d the dying maid.
She told, that jealous fears, and wild despair,
With one brief glance had vanish'd all in air,
And that she should but bear to realms above
Faith unalloy'd, and unabated love!
Faintly she whisper'd, “Axel, fare thee well,
Ask not what brought me hither—Love can tell.
Already Death sits icy at my heart,
And the long night's grey twilight bids us part.
Oh! when thus shivering on life's fearful brink,
How do its puny cares unheeded sink !
I came to Sweden to extort the vow,
Which, had I life to hear, I would not now;
No! let me read it, 'mid the records high,
Of love and constancy, beyond the sky,
There, freed from all the clouds and mists of earth,
Bright ’mid the stars shall shine thy stainless worth.
Pardon, for love's own sake, each bitter tear
Which thou must shed o'er my untimely bier ;
Pardon the lonely orphan, doom'd to see
Her father, mother, brethren, all in Thee !
Thou wert my all ! O, Axel, let me hear
On the grave's brink, that Linda still is dear;
Thou swearest !-what could longer life avail ?
Life in mine ear has poured her loveliest tale.
My Axel, dost thou see yon envious cloud,
Veiling the moon with transitory shroud ?
Ere it has vanish’d, I shall be no more ;
But my freed soul, on yon celestial shore,
For thee a suppliant at Heaven's throne shall be,

And, with Heaven's thousand eyes, still gaze on thee. VOL. XIX.

2 B

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