"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! "At the dim vesper hour, when thoughts of guilt 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 66 Rung through the casement near " Thy oath! thy oath!" Oh Heav'n, 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 moon-light fields were seen, calm as before "Go-fly this instant, or thou'rt ruin❜d too 66 My oath, my oath, oh 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 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 66 sever "Hearts, cannot sunder hands?-thus, then-for ever!" G 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, Fleetly as some dark, ominous bird of night } LALLA ROOKH could think of nothing all day but the misery of these two young lovers. Her gaiety 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 ROOKн was all curiosity;-when one of her attend ants, 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 young 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 |