Safe in her father's princely halls, Freshly perfum'd by many a brand Of the sweet wood from India's land, But see, who yonder comes by stealth, 'Tis she-far off, through moonlight dim, He knew his own betrothed bride, She, who would rather die with him, Her arms are round her lover now, His livid cheek to hers she presses, And dips, to bind his burning brow, An hour would come, when he should shrink Those gentle arms, that were to him Holy as is the cradling place Of Eden's infant cherubim ! And now he yields now turns away, Shuddering as if the venom lay All in those proffer'd lips alone Those lips that, then so fearless grown, Near his unask'd or without shame. "Oh! let me only breathe the air, "The blessed air, that's breath'd by thee, "And, whether on its wings it bear. "Healing or death, 'tis sweet to me! "There, -drink my tears, while yet they fall,— "Would that my bosom's blood were balm, "And, well thou know'st, I'd shed it all, "To give thy brow one minute's calm. "Nay, turn not from me that dear face"Am I not thine -thy own lov'd bride "The one, the chosen one, whose place "In life or death is by thy side! "Think'st thou that she, whose only light, "In this dim world, from thee hath shone, "Could bear the long, the cheerless night, "That must be hers, when thou art gone? ? "That I can live, and let thee go, "Who art my life itself? No, no "When the stem dies, the leaf that grew "Out of its heart must perish too! "Then turn to me, my own love, turn, "Before like thee I fade and burn; Cling to these yet cool lips, and share "The last pure life that lingers there !" as dies the lamp She fails she sinks - In charnel airs or cavern-damp, So quickly do his baleful sighs Quench all the sweet light of her eyes! One kiss the maiden gives, one last, Long kiss, which she expires in giving! "Sleep," said the PERI, as softly she stole The farewell sigh of that vanishing soul, As true as e'er warm'd a woman's breast"Sleep on, in visions of odour rest, "In balmier airs than ever yet stirr'd "Th' enchanted pile of that lonely bird, "Who sings at the last his own death lay, "And in music and perfume dies away!" Thus saying, from her lips she spread 1 From their dim graves, in odour sleeping; While that benevolent PERI beam'd Like their good angel, calmly keeping Watch o'er them, till their souls would waken! But morn is blushing in the sky; Again the PERI soars above, Bearing to Heav'n that precious sigh Of pure, self-sacrificing love. In the East, they suppose the Phoenix to have fifty orifices in his bill, which are continued to his tail; and that, after living one thousand years, he builds himself a funeral pile, sings a melodious air of different harmonies through his fifty organ pipes, flaps his wings with a velocity which sets fire to the wood, and consumes himself." Richardson. High throbb'd her heart, with hope elate, Smil'd as she gave that offering in; And she already hears the trees Of Eden, with their crystal bells Ringing in that ambrosial breeze That from the Throne of ALLA Swells; And she can see the starry bowls That lie around that lucid lake, Upon whose banks admitted Souls Their first sweet draught of glory take !2 But ah! ev'n Peris' hopes are vain Again the Fates forbade, again The' immortal barrier clos'd—"not yet," The Angel said as, with regret, He shut from her that glimpse of glory · "True was the maiden, and her story, 2 "On the shores of a quadrangular lake stand a thousand goblets, made of stars, out of which souls predestined to enjoy felicity drink the crystal wave."-From Chateaubriand s Description of the Mahometan Paradise, in his Beauties of Christianity. |