That could from heaven and him such brightness

sever,

'Tis done, to heaven and him she's lost for ever!

It was a dreadful moment; not the tears,

The lingering, lasting misery of years,

Could match that minute's anguish, all the worst

Of sorrow's elements in that dark burst

Broke o'er his soul, and with one crash of fate

Laid the whole hopes of his life desolate !

"Oh! curse me not," she cried, as wild he toss'd His desperate hand toward heaven -"though I am

lost,

Think not that guilt, that falsehood, made me fall;

No, no, 'twas grief, 'twas madness, did it all!

Nay, doubt me not; though all thy love hath

ceased,

I know it hath, — yet, yet believe, at least,
That every spark of reason's light must be

Quench'd in this brain ere I could stray from thee!
They told me thou wert dead, — why, Azim, why

Did we not, both of us, that instant die

When we were parted? — oh! couldst thou but know With what a deep devotedness of woe

I wept thy absence, — o'er and o'er again

Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain,
And memory, like a drop that, night and day,
Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away,
Didst thou but know how pale I sat at home,
My eyes still turn'd the way thou wert to come,
And, all the long, long night of hope and fear,

Thy voice and step still sounding in my ear,
O God! thou wouldst not wonder that, at last,
When every hope was all at once o'ercast,
When I heard frightful voices round me say
Azim is dead! - this wretched brain gave way,

And I became a wreck, at random driven,
Without one glimpse of reason or of heaven,
All wild, and even this quenchless love within
Turn'd to foul fires to light me into sin!

Thou pitiest me, I knew thou wouldst; that sky Hath nought beneath it half so lorn as I.

The fiend, who lured me hither, hist! come near,

Or thou too, thou art lost, if he should hear,

Told me such things-oh! with such devilish art As would have ruin'd even a holier heart

Of thee, and of that ever-radiant sphere,

Where bless'd at length, if I but served him here,
I should for ever live in thy dear sight,

And drink from those pure eyes eternal light!
Think, think how lost, how madden'd, I must be,
To hope that guilt could lead to God or thee!
Thou weep'st for me,
do weep-
Kiss off that tear! but, no, -

They must not touch thee;

oh that I durst these lips are curst,

one divine caress,

One blessed moment of forgetfulness,

I've had within those arms, and that shall lie
Shrined in my soul's deep memory till I die!
The last of joy's last relics here below,
The one sweet drop, in all this waste of woe,
My heart has treasured from affection's spring,
To soothe and cool its deadly withering!
But thou yes, thou must go -
for ever go;
This place is not for thee- for thee! oh, no!

Did I but tell thee half, thy tortured brain

Would burn like mine, and mine go wild again!

Enough that Guilt reigns here, that hearts once

good,

Now tainted, chill'd, and broken, are his food;
Enough that we are parted, - that there rolls
A flood of headlong fate between our souls,
Whose darkness severs me as wide from thee
As hell from heaven, to all eternity!"—

"Zelica! Zelica!" the youth exclaim'd,

In all the tortures of a mind inflamed
Almost to madness, "by that sacred heaven,
Where yet, if prayers can move, thou'lt be forgiven

As thou art here

here in this writhing heart,

All sinful, wild, and ruin'd as thou art!

By the remembrance of our once pure love,
Which, like a churchyard light, still burns above
The grave of our lost souls, which guilt in thee
Cannot extinguish, nor despair in me!

I do conjure, implore thee to fly hence;
If thou hast yet one spark of innocence,
Fly with me from this place -

"With thee! oh, bliss,

'Tis worth whole years of torment to hear this.
What! take the lost one with thee? - let her rove

By thy dear side, as in those days of love,
When we were both so happy, both so pure-
Too heavenly dream! if there's on earth a cure
For the sunk heart, 'tis this, - day after day
To be the blest companion of thy way;
To hear thy angel eloquence; to see
Those virtuous eyes for ever turn'd on me,
And in their light re-chasten'd silently,
Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun,
Grow pure by being purely shone upon.
And thou wilt pray for me, - I know thou wilt:
At the dim vesper hour, when thoughts of guilt
Come heaviest o'er the heart, thou'lt lift thine eyes,
Full of sweet tears, into the darkening skies,
And plead for me with Heaven, till I can dare

To fix my own weak, sinful glances there;
Till the good angels, when they see me cling
For ever near thee, pale and sorrowing,
Shall for thy sake pronounce my soul forgiven,

And bid thee take thy weeping slave to heaven :
Oh, yes, I'll fly with thee —”

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, — Rung through the casement near, "Thy oath thy oath!"

O Heaven, the ghastliness of that Maid's look!"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 moonlight 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, O God! 'tis all too true,
True as the worm in this cold heart it is

I am Mokanna's bride his, Azim, his —
The dead stood round us, while I spoke that vow,
Their blue lips echoed it - I hear them now!

Their eyes glared on me while I pledged that bowl; 'Twas burning blood- I feel it in my soul!

And the Veiled Bridegroom -hist! I've seen to-night What angels know not of, so foul a sight,

So horrible

-oh! never mayst thou see

What there lies hid from all but hell and me!

But I must hence · off, off — I am not thine,

Nor Heaven's, nor Love's, nor nought that is divine Hold me not ha! think'st thou the fiends that

sever