Thy voice like his, the changes of his face
In thine reflected with still lovelier grace,
Like echo, sending back sweet music, fraught
With twice th' aërial sweetness it had brought!
Yet now he comes,-brighter than even he
E'er beam'd before,-but, ah! not bright for thee;
No-dread, unlook'd for, like a visitant
From th' other world, he comes as if to haunt
Thy guilty soul with dreams of lost delight,
Long lost to all but mem'ry's aching sight:
Sad dreams! as when the Spirit of our Youth
Returns in sleep, sparkling with all the truth
And innocence once ours, and leads us back,
In mournful mockery, o'er the shining track
Of our young life, and points out every ray
Of hope and peace we've lost upon the way!

:

Once happy pair!-In proud BOKHARA's groves,

yet

"Some tasks to learn, some frailties to forget, "Ere the white war-plume o'er thy brow can

wave;

"But, once my own, mine all till in the grave!"

The pomp is at an end-the crowds are gone—
Each ear and heart still haunted by the tone
Of that deep voice, which thrill'd like ALLA's own!
The Young all dazzled by the plumes and lances,
The glitt'ring throne, and Haram's half-caught
glances;

The Old deep pond'ring on the promised reign
Of peace and truth: and all the female train
Ready to risk their eyes, could they but gaze
A moment on that brow's miraculous blaze!

But there was one, among the chosen maids, Who blush'd behind the gallery's silken shades, One, to whose soul the pageant of to-day Has been like death:-you saw her pale dismay, Ye wond'ring sisterhood, and heard the burst Of exclamation from her lips, when first She saw that youth, too well, too dearly known, Silently kneeling at the Prophet's throne.

Ah ZELICA! there was a time, when bliss Shone o'er thy heart from ev'ry look of his; When but to see him, hear him, breathe the air In which he dwelt, was thy soul's fondest prayer; When round him hung such a perpetual spell, Whate'er he did, none ever did so well. Too happy days; when, if he touch'd a flow'r Or gem of thine, 'twas sacred from that hour; When thou didst study him till every tone And gesture and dear look became thy own,—

Born by that ancient flood," which from its spring
In the dark Mountains swiftly wandering,
Enrich'd by ev'ry pilgrim brook that shines
With relics from BUCHARIA's ruby mines,
And, lending to the CASPIAN half its strength,
In the cold Lake of Eagles sinks at length;-
There, on the banks of that bright river born,
The flow'rs, that hung above its wave at morn,
Bless'd not the waters, as they murmur'd by,
With holier scent and lustre, than the sigh
And virgin-glance of first affection cast
Upon their youth's smooth current, as it pass'd!

But war disturb'd this vision,-far away From her fond eyes summon'd to join th' array Of PERSIA'S warriors on the hills of THRACE, The youth exchanged his sylvan dwelling-place For the rude tent and war-field's dreadful clash, His ZELICA'S Sweet glances for the flash Of Grecian wild-fire, and Love's gentle chains For bleeding bondage on BYZANTIUM's plains.

Month after month, in widowhood of soul Drooping, the maiden saw two summers roll Their suns away-but, ah, how cold and dim Ev'n summer suns, when not beheld with him! From time to time ill-omen'd rumors came, Like spirit-tongues, mutt'ring the sick man's name, Just ere he dies:-at length those sounds of dread Fell with'ring on her soul, “AZIM is dead!" Oh Grief, beyond all other griefs, when fate First leaves the young heart lone and desolate In the wide world, without that only tie For which it loved to live or fear'd to die ;— Lorn as the hung-up lute, that ne'er hath spoken Since the sad day its master-chord was broken!

Fond maid, the sorrow of her soul was such,
Ev'n reason sunk,—blighted beneath its touch;
And though, ere long, her sanguine spirit rose
Above the first dead pressure of its woes,
Though health and bloom return'd, the delicate
chain

Of thought, once tangled, never clear'd again.
Warm, lively, soft as in youth's happiest day,
The mind was still all there, but turn'd astray;-
A wand'ring bark, upon whose pathway shone
All stars of heaven, except the guiding one!
Again she smiled, nay, much and brightly smiled,
But 'twas a lustre, strange, unreal, wild;
And when she sung to her lute's touching strain,
'Twas like the notes, half ecstasy, half pain,
The bulbul" utters, ere her soul depart,
When, vanquish'd by some minstrel's pow'rful art,
She dies upon the lute whose sweetness broke her
heart!

Such was the mood in which that mission found Young ZELICA,-that mission, which around The Eastern world, in every region bless'd With woman's smile, sought out its loveliest, To grace that galaxy of lips and eyes Which the Veil'd Prophet destined for the skies;And such quick welcome as a spark receives Dropp'd on a bed of Autumn's wither'd leaves, Did every tale of these enthusiasts find In the wild maiden's sorrow-blighted mind. All fire at once the madd'ning zeal she caught ;— Elect of Paradise! blest, rapturous thought! Predestined bride, in heaven's eternal dome, Of some brave youth-ha! durst they say "of

some ?"

No-of the one, one only object traced
In her heart's core too deep to be effaced;
The one whose mem'ry, fresh as life, is twined
With every broken link of her lost mind;
Whose image lives, though Reason's self be
wreck'd,

Safe 'mid the ruins of her intellect!

Alas, poor ZELICA! it needed all

The fantasy, which held thy mind in thrall,
To see in that gay Haram's glowing maids
A sainted colony for Eden's shades;
Or dream that he,-of whose unholy flame
Thou wert too soon the victim,-shining came
From Paradise, to people its pure sphere
With souls like thine, which he hath ruin'd here!
No-had not reason's light totally set,
And left thee dark, thou hadst an amulet
In the loved image, graven on thy heart,
Which would have saved thee from the tempter's art,

And kept alive, in all its bloom of breath,
That purity, whose fading is love's death!—
But lost, inflamed,-a restless zeal took place
Of the mild virgin's still and feminine grace;
First of the Prophet's favorites, proudly first
In zeal and charms,-too well th' Impostor nursed
Her soul's delirium, in whose active flame,
Thus lighting up a young, luxuriant frame,
He saw more potent sorceries to bind
To his dark yoke the spirits of mankind,
More subtle chains than hell itself e'er twined.
No art was spared, no witch'ry;—all the skill
His demons taught him was employ'd to fill
Her mind with gloom and ecstasy by turns-
That gloom, through which Frenzy but fiercer
burns;

That ecstasy, which from the depth of sadness Glares like the maniac's moon, whose light is madness!

'Twas from a brilliant banquet, where the sound Of poesy and music breathed around, Together picturing to her mind and ear The glories of that heav'n, her destined sphere, Where all was pure, where every stain that lay Upon the spirit's light should pass away, And, realizing more than youthful love E'er wish'd or dream'd, she should for ever rove Through fields of fragrance by her Azım's side, His own bless'd, purified, eternal bride!— "Twas from a scene, a witching trance like this, He hurried her away, yet breathing bliss, To the dim charnel-house;-through all its steams Of damp and death, led only by those gleams Which foul Corruption lights, as with design To show the gay and proud she too can shineAnd, passing on through upright ranks of Dead, Which to the maiden, doubly crazed by dread, Seem'd, through the bluish death-light round them cast,

To move their lips in mutt'rings as she pass'd— There, in that awful place, when each had quaff'd And pledg'd in silence such a fearful draught, Such-oh! the look and taste of that red bowl Will haunt her till she dies-he bound her soul By a dark oath, in hell's own language framed, Never, while earth his mystic presence claim'd, While the blue arch of day hung o'er them both, Never, by that all-imprecating oath,

In joy or sorrow from his side to sever.She swore, and the wide charnel echoed, “Never, never!"

From that dread hour, entirely, wildly giv'n To him and she believed, lost maid!-to heav'n'

Her brain, her heart, her passions all inflamed,
How proud she stood, when in full Haram named
The Priestess of the Faith!-how flash'd her eyes
With light, alas, that was not of the skies,
When round, in trances, only less than hers,
She saw the Haram kneel, her prostrate worship-
pers.

Well might MOKANNA think that form alone

Had spells enough to make the world his own:-
Light, lovely limbs, to which the spirit's play
Gave motion, airy as the dancing spray,
When from its stem the small bird wings away:
Lips in whose rosy labyrinth, when she smiled,
The soul was lost; and blushes, swift and wild
As are the momentary meteors sent

Across th' uncalm, but beauteous firmament.
And then her look-oh! where's the heart so wise
Could unbewilder'd meet those matchless eyes?
Quick, restless, strange, but exquisite withal,
Like those of angels, just before their fall;

Now shadow'd with the shames of earth-now cross'd

By glimpses of the Heav'n her heart had lost;
In ev'ry glance there broke, without control,
The flashes of a bright, but troubled soul,
Where sensibility still wildly play'd,
Like lightning, round the ruins it had made!

And such was now young ZELICA—so changed From her who, some years since, delighted ranged The almond groves that shade BoKHARA's tide, All life and bliss, with Azim by her side! So alter'd was she now, this festal day, When, 'mid the proud Divan's dazzling array, The vision of that Youth whom she had loved, Had wept as dead, before her breathed and moved;

When-bright, she thought, as if from Eden's

track

But half-way trodden, he had wander'd back Again to earth, glist'ning with Eden's lightHer beauteous AZIM shone before her sight.

O Reason! who shall say what spells renew, When least we look for it, thy broken clew! Through what small vistas o'er the darken'd brain Thy intellectual day-beam bursts again; And how, like forts, to which beleaguerers win Unhoped-for entrance through some friend within, One clear idea, waken'd in the breast By mem'ry's magic, lets in all the rest. Would it were thus, unhappy girl, with thee! But though light came, it came but partially; Enough to show the maze, in which thy sense Wander'd about,-but not to guide it thence;

Enough to glimmer o'er the yawning wave,
But not to point the harbor which might save.
Hours of delight and peace, long left behind,
With that dear form came rushing o'er her mind;
But, oh! to think how deep her soul had gone
In shame and falsehood since those moments shone;
And, then, her oath-there madness lay again,
And, shudd'ring, back she sunk into her chain
Of mental darkness, as if blest to flee
From light, whose every glimpse was agony!
Yet, one relief this glance of former years
Brought, mingled with its pain,-tears, floods of
tears,

Long frozen at her heart, but now like rills
Let loose in spring-time from the snowy hills,
And gushing warm, after a sleep of frost,
Through valleys where their flow had long been lost.

Sad and subdued, for the first time her frame
Trembled with horror, when the sad summons came,
(A summons proud and rare, which all but she,
And she, till now, had heard with ecstacy,)
To meet MOKANNA at his place of prayer,
A garden oratory, cool and fair,

By the stream's side, where still at close of day
The Prophet of the Veil retired to pray;
Sometimes alone-but, oft'ner far, with one,
One chosen nymph to share his orison.

Of late none found such favor in his sight As the young Priestess; and though, since that night

When the death-caverns echo'd every tone
Of the dire oath that made her all his own,
Th' Impostor, sure of his infatuate prize,
Had, more than once, thrown off his soul's disguise,
And utter'd such unheav'nly, monstrous things,
As ev'n across the desp'rate wanderings
Of a weak intellect, whose lamp was out,
Threw startling shadows of dismay and doubt;-
Yet zeal, ambition, her tremendous vow,
The thought, still haunting her, of that bright brow,
Whose blaze, as yet from mortal eye conceal'd,
Would soon, proud triumph! be to her reveal'd,
To her alone;-and then the hope, most dear,
Most wild of all, that her transgression here
Was but a passage through earth's grosser fire,
From which the spirit would at last aspire,
Ev'n purer than before,-as perfumes rise
Through flame and smoke, most welcome to the
skies-

And that when AZIM's fond, divine embrace
Should circle her in heav'n, no dark'ning trace
Would on that bosom he once loved remain,
But all be bright, be pure, be his again!—

These were the wild'ring dreams, whose cursed deceit

Had chain'd her soul beneath the tempter's feet,
And made her think ev'n damning falsehood sweet.
But now that Shape, which had appall'd her view
That Semblance-oh how terrible, if true!
Which came across her frenzy's full career
With shock of consciousness, cold, deep, severe,
As when, in northern seas, at midnight dark,
An isle of ice encounters some swift bark,
And, startling all its wretches from their sleep,
By one cold impulse hurls them to the deep;
So came that shock not frenzy's self could bear,
And waking up each long-lull'd image there,
But check'd her headlong soul, to sink it in despair!

Wan and dejected, through the ev'ning dusk, She now went slowly to that small kiosk, Where, pondering alone his impious schemes, MOKANNA Waited her-too wrapt in dreams Of the fair-rip'ning future's rich success, To heed the sorrow, pale and spiritless, That sat upon his victim's downcast brow, Or mark how slow her step, how alter'd now From the quick, ardent Priestess, whose light bound Came like a spirit's o'er th' unechoing ground,From that wild ZELICA, whose every glance Was thrilling fire, whose ev'ry thought a trance!

48

Upon his couch the Veil'd MOKANna lay, While lamps around-not such as lend their ray, Glimm'ring and cold, to those who nightly pray In holy Kooм, or MECCA's dim arcades,But brilliant, soft, such lights as lovely maids Look loveliest in, shed their luxurious glow Upon his mystic Veil's white glitt'ring flow. Beside him, 'stead of beads and books of pray'r, Which the world fondly thought he mused on there, Stood Vases, fill'd with KISHMEE'S" golden wine, And the red weepings of the SHIRAZ vine;

50

Of which his curtain'd lips full many a draught
Took zealously, as if each drop they quaff'd,
Like ZEMZEM'S Spring of Holiness, had pow'r
To freshen the soul's virtues into flow'r!
And still he drank and ponder'd-nor could see
Th' approaching maid, so deep his revery;

At length, with fiendish laugh, like that which broke

From EBLIS at the Fall of Man, he spoke :"Yes, ye vile race, for hell's amusement given, "Too mean for earth, yet claiming kin with heav'n; "God's images, forsooth!-such gods as he "Whom INDIA serves, the monkey deity ;-51 "Ye creatures of a breath, proud things of clay, "To whom if LUCIFER, as grandams say,

66

And your State Priests, sole venders of the lore,

.54

"That works salvation;—as, on Ava's shore, “Where none but priests are privileged to trade "In that best marble of which Gods are made; They shall have mysteries-ay, precious stuff, For knaves to thrive by-mysteries enough; "Dark, tangled doctrines, dark as fraud can weave "Which simple votaries shall on trust receive, "While craftier feign belief, till they believe. "A Heav'n too ye must have, ye lords of dust,"A splendid Paradise,-pure souls, ye must: "That Prophet ill sustains his holy call, "Who finds not heav'ns to suit the tastes of all; "Houris for boys, omniscience for sages, "And wings and glories for all ranks and ages.

"Vain things!-as lust or vanity inspires,
"The heav'n of each is but what each desires,
"And, soul or sense, whate'er the object be,
"Man would be man to all eternity!

"So let him-EBLIS!-grant this crowning curse, "But keep him what he is, no Hell were worse."

"Oh my lost soul!" exclaim'd the shudd'ring maid,

Whose ears had drunk like poison all he said:-
MOKANNA started-not abash'd, afraid,-

He knew no more of fear than one who dwells
Beneath the tropics knows of icicles!

But, in those dismal words that reach'd his ear,
"Oh my lost soul!" there was a sound so drear,
So like that voice, among the sinful dead,
In which the legend o'er Hell's Gate is read,
That, new as 'twas from her, whom naught could
dim

Or sink till now, it startled even him.