By the bliss to meet, By all that thou hast Which-oh! could it last, This earth were heaven! We call thee hither, entrancing Power! Thy holiest time is the moonlight hour, And there never was moonlight so sweet as this. Impatient of a scene, whose luxuries stole, Spite of himself, too deep into his soul, And where, midst all that the young heart loves most, } But here again new spells came o'er his sense; Could call up into life, of soft and fair, Of fond and passionate, was glowing there; There hung the history of the Genii-King, He read that to be blest is to be wise ;'- The Hebrew boy, who flies from her young charms, 5 For the loves of King Solomon, (who was supposed to preside over the whole race of Genii) with Balkis, the Queen of Sheba or Saba, v. D'Herbelot, and the Notes on the Koran, chap. 2. 6 The wife of Potiphar, thus named by the Orientals. Her adventure with the patriarch Joseph is the subject of many of their poems and romances. And here MOHAMMED, born for love and guile, With rapid step, yet pleas'd and lingering eye, Here paus'd he, while the music, now less near, As though the distance, and that heavenly ray Oh! could he listen to such sounds, unmov'd, } And by that light nor dream of her he lov'd? Dream on, unconscious boy! while yet thou may'st; 'Tis the last bliss thy soul shall ever taste. 7 The particulars of Mahomet's amour with Mary, the Coptic girl, in justification of which he added a new chapter to the Koran, may be found in Gagnier's Notes upon Abulfeda, p. 151. Clasp yet awhile her image to thy heart, Ere all the light, that made it dear, depart. Think of her smiles as when thou saws't them last, Pure as they weep, if angels weep, in heaven! Should be so sadly, cruelly destroy'd! The song is hush'd, the laughing nymphs are flown, And he is left, musing of bliss, alone; Alone? no, not alone that heavy sigh, That sob of grief, which broke from some one nigh- With gems and wreaths, such as the others wore, But in that deep-blue, melancholy dress, 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, He took away her last warm tears upon his cheek. A strange emotion stirs within him, - more Than mere compassion ever wak'd before; Unconsciously he opes his arms, while she Springs forward, as with life's last energy, But, swooning in that one convulsive bound, Sinks, ere she reach his arms, upon the ground; 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 Could in that wreck of beauty's shrine discover The once ador'd divinity! ev'n he Stood for some moments mute, and doubtingly Put back the ringlets from her brow, and gaz'd Upon those lids, where once such lustre blaz❜d, 8 « Deep blue is their mourning colour."-Hanway. |