« EelmineJätka »
Just then, beneath some orange trees,
Close by the lake she heard the moan
Had thither stolen to die alone One who in life where'er he moved,
Drew after him the hearts of many ; Yet, now, as though he ne'er were loved,
Dies here unseen, unwept by any ; None to watch near him-none to slake
The fire that in his bosom lies, With even a sprinkle from that lake Which shines so cool before his
eyes. No voice, well known through many a day,
To speak the last, the parting word, Which, when all other sounds decay,
Is still like distant music beard. That tender farewell on the shore Of this rude world when all is o'er, Which cheers the spirit, ere its bark Puts off into the unknown dark.
Deserted youth! one thought alone
Shed joy around his soul in death-
Was safe from this foul midnight's breath ;-
But see,—who yonder comes by stealth,
This melancholy bower to seek, Like a young envoy, sent by health,
With rosy gifts upon her cheek? 'Tis shefar off through moonlight dim,
He knew his own betrothed bride, She, who would rather die with him,
Than live to gain the world beside ! Her arms are round her lover now,
His livid cheek to hers she presses, And dips, to bind his burning brow,
In the cool lake her loosened tresses. Ah! ance how little did he think An hour would come, when he should shrink
With horror from that dear embrace,
Those gentle arms that were to him
Of Eden's infant cherubim !
Shuddering as if the venom lay
Near his unasked or without shame.
The blessed air, that's breathed by thee,
Healing or death, 'tis sweet to me!
Would that my bosom's blood were balm,
Am I not thine-thy own loved bride-
In life or death is by thy side!
In this dim world from thee hath shone,
That must be her’s, when thou art gone ?
That I can live, and let thee go,
eyes : One struggle,--and his pain is past
Her lover is no longer living !
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 warmed a woman's breast
Sleep on, in visions of odour rest, In balmier airs than ever yet stirred Th' e::chanted 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
Unearthly breathings through the place,
Upon the eve of doomsday taken
While that benevolent Peri beamed
Watch o'er them, till their souls would waken!
But morn is blushing in the sky;
Again the Peri soars above,
Of pure, self-sacrificing love.
The Elysian palm she soon shall win,
gave that offering in; And she already hear's 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!