With gems and wreaths, such as the others wore, But in that deep-blue, melancholy dress,93 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, A strange emotion stirs within him,-more 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 Who, even when grief was heaviest-when loth He left her for the wars-in that worst hour 66 66 Look up, my ZELICA-one moment show Those gentle eyes to me, that I may know 66 Thy life, thy loveliness is not all gone, "But there, at least, shines as it ever shone. "Come, look upon thy AZIM-one dear glance, "Hath brought thee here, oh, 'twas a blessed one! 66 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. 66 66 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, 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 Took from her soul one half its wretchedness. But, when she heard him call her good and pure, 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, And then the place, that bright, unholy place, No, no he sees it all, plain as the brand Of burning shame can mark-whate'er the hand, 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 L 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, Oh! curse me not," she cried, as wild he toss'd His desperate hand tow'rds 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 ceas'd “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. 66 They told me thou wert dead-why, AZIM, why Did we not, both of us, that instant die When we were parted? oh! could'st thou but know "With what a deep devotedness of woe 66 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, And, all the long, long night of hope and fear, Thy voice and step still sounding in my ear "Oh God! thou would'st not wonder that, at last. |