Ere he could think she was indeed his own, Who, ev'n when grief was heaviest - when loth Sat in her sorrow like the sweet night-flower,' "Look up, my ZELICA one moment show "Those gentle eyes to me, that I may know Thy life, thy loveliness is not all gone, 66 "But there, at least, shines as it ever shone. "Come, look upon thy AzIM-one dear glance, "Like those of old, were heav'n! whatever chance "Hath brought thee here, oh! 'twas a blessed one! -they move that kiss hath "Like the first shoot of life through every vein, "And now I clasp her, mine, all mine again! 9 The sorrowful nyctanthes, which begins to spread its rich odour after sun-set. "Oh the delight-now, in this very hour, "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 lov'd lips Upon her eyes that chas'd their short eclipse, And, gradual as the snow, at heaven's breath, Melts off and shows the azure flowers beneath, Her lids unclos'd, and the bright eyes were seen Gazing on his, not, as they late had been, Quick, restless, wild, but mournfully serene; As if to lie, ev'n for that tranced minute, So near his heart, had consolation in it; Took from her soul one half its wretchedness. Said, in a tone whose anguish would have riven A heart of very marble, "pure! -oh Heaven." 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 surprize, And then the place, that bright unholy place, he sees it all, plain as the brand Of burning shame can mark — whate'er the hand, That could from heav'n and him such brightness sever, 'Tis done to heav'n and him she's lost for ever! I 66 Concerning the vipers, which Pliny says were frequent among the balsam-trees, I made very particular enquiry; several were brought me alive both to Yambo and Jidda.”—Bruce. ་ 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, "Oh! curse me not," she cried, as wild he toss'd His desperate hand tow'rds heav'n-" 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 "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"Oh God! thou would'st 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 ev'n this quenchless love within "Turn'd to foul fires to light me into sin! "Thou pitiest me-I knew thou would'st—that sky "Hath nought beneath it half so lorn as I. "The fiend, who lur'd 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 ev'n a holier heart"Of thee, and of that ever-radiant sphere, "Where bless'd at length, if I but serv'd him here, "I should for ever live in thy dear sight, "And drink from those pure eyes eternal light! |