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At first, though mute she listen'd, like a dream, Seem'd all he said: nor could her mind, whose beam

As yet was weak, penetrate half his scheme. But when, at length, he utter'd, "Thou art she!" All flash'd at once, and shrieking piteously, "Oh not for worlds!" she cried-" Great God! to 'whom

"I once knelt innocent, is this my doom? "Are all my dreams, my hopes of heavenly bliss, “My purity, my pride, then come to this,— "To live, the wanton of a fiend! to be "The pander of his guilt-oh infamy! "And sunk, myself, as low as hell can steep "In its hot flood, drag others down as deep! "Others-ha! yes-that youth who came to-day"Not him I loved-not him-oh! do but say, "But swear to me this moment 'tis not he, "And I will serve, dark fiend, will worship even thee!"

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“No-he's all truth and strength and purity! "Fill up your madd'ning hell-cup to the brim, "Its witch'ry, fiends, will have no charm for him. "Let loose your glowing wantons from their bow'rs,

"He loves, he loves, and can defy their powers! "Wretch as I am, in his heart still I reign "Pure as when first we met, without a stain!

Though ruin'd-lost-my mem'ry, like a charm "Left by the dead, still keeps his soul from harm.

"Oh! never let him know how deep the brow "He kiss'd at parting, is dishonor'd now; "Ne'er tell him how debased, how sunk is she, "Whom once he loved-once!-still loves dotingly.

"Thou laugh'st, tormentor,-what!-thou'lt brand my name?

“Do, do—in vain—he'll not believe my shame— "He thinks me true, that naught beneath God'e sky

"Could tempt or change me, and—so once thought I.

"But this is past-though worse than death my lot,

"Than hell-'tis nothing while he knows it not. "Far off to some benighted land I'll fly, "Where sunbeam ne'er shall enter till I die; "Where none will ask the lost one whence she came,

"But I may fade and fall without a name. "And thou-cursed man or fiend, whate'er thou

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"Yes, my sworn bride, let others seek in bow'rs "Their bridal place-the charnel-vault was ours! "Instead of scents and balms, for thee and me "Rose the rich steams of sweet mortality;

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Gay, flick'ring death-lights shone while we were wed,

And, for our guests, a row of goodly Dead, "(Immortal spirits in their time, no doubt,) "From reeking shrouds upon the rite look'd out! "That oath thou heard'st more lips than thine repeat

"That cup-thou shudd'rest, Lady,-was it sweet? "That cup we pledged, the charnel's choicest wine, "Hath bound thee-ay-body and soul all mine; "Bound thee by chains that, whether bless'd or cursed

"No matter now, not hell itself shall burst! "Hence, woman, to the Haram, and look gay, "Look wild, look-any thing but sad; yet stay"One moment more-from what this night hath pass'd,

"I see thou know'st me, know'st me well at last. "Ha! ha! and so, fond thing, thou thought'st all true,

"And that I love mankind?-I do, I do

"As victims, love them; as the sea-dog dotes

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ON their arrival, next night, at the place of encampment, they were surprised and delighted to find the groves all around illuminated; some artists of Yamtcheous having been sent on previously for the purpose. On each side of the green alley which led to the Royal Pavilion, artificial sceneries of bamboo-work 59 were erected, representing arches, minarets, and towers, from which hung thousands of silken lanterns, painted by the most delicate pencils of Canton.-Nothing could be more beautiful than the leaves of the mango-trees and acacias, shining in the light of the bambooscenery, which shed a lustre round as soft as that of the nights of Peristan.

LALLA ROOKH, however, who was too much occupied by the sad story of ZELICA and her lover, to give a thought to any thing else, except, perhaps, him who related it, hurried on through this scene of splendor to her pavilion,-greatly to the mortification of the poor artists of Yamtcheou,-and was followed with equal rapidity by the Great Chamberlain, cursing, as he went, that ancient Mandarin, whose parental anxiety in lighting up the shores of the lake, where his beloved daughter had wandered and been lost, was the origin of these fantastic Chinese illuminations."

Without a moment's delay, young FERAMORZ was introduced, and FADLADEEN, who could never make up his mind as to the merits of a poet, till he knew the religious sect to which he belonged, was about to ask him whether he was a Shia or a Sooni, when LALLA ROоKн impatiently clapped her hands for silence, and the youth, being seated upon the musnud near her, proceeded:

PREPARE thy soul, young Azım!—thou hast braved

"Sent me thus maim'd and monstrous upon earth; The bands of GREECE, still mighty though en

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He raised his veil the Maid turn'd slowly Woman's bright eyes, a dazzling host of eyes round,

From every land where woman smiles or sighs;

Look'd at him-shriek'd--and sunk upon the Of every hue, as Love may chance to raise

ground!

His black or azure banner in their blaze;
And each sweet mode of warfare, from the flash
That lightens boldly through the shadowy lash,

To the sly, stealing splendors, almost hid,
Like swords half-sheath'd, beneath the downcast

lid ;

Such, AZIM, is the lovely, luminous host

Now led against thee; and, let conqu❜rors boast
Their fields of fame, he who in virtue arms
A young, warm spirit against beauty's charms,
Who feels her brightness, yet defies her thrall,
Is the best, bravest conqu'ror of them all.

Of fragrant waters, gushing with cool sound
From many a jasper fount, is heard around,
Young AZIM roams bewilder'd,-n
‚—nor can guess
What means this maze of light and loneliness.
Here, the way leads, o'er tesselated floors
Or mats of CAIRO, through long corridors,
Where, ranged in cassolets and silver urns,
Sweet wood of aloe or of sandal burns;
And spicy rods, such as illume at night

The bow'rs of TIBET," send forth odorous light,

Now, through the Haram chambers, moving Like Peris' wands, when pointing out the road lights

And busy shapes proclaim the toilet's rites;—
From room to room the ready handmaids hie,
Some skill'd to wreathe the turban tastefully,
Or hang the veil, in negligence of shade,
O'er the warm blushes of the youthful maid,
Who, if between the folds but one eye shone,
Like SEBA's Queen could vanquish with that
one:-1

While some bring leaves of Henna, to imbue
The fingers' ends with a bright roseate hue,"
So bright, that in the mirror's depth they seem
Like tips of coral branches in the stream:
And others mix the Kohol's jetty dye,

To give that long, dark languish to the eye,"
Which makes the maids, whom kings are proud to
cull

From fair Circassia's vales, so beautiful.

All is in motion; rings, and plumes, and pearls
Are shining ev'rywhere:-some younger girls
Are gone by moonlight to the garden-beds,
To gather fresh, cool chaplets for their heads;-
Gay creatures! sweet, though mournful, 'tis to

see

How each prefers a garland from that tree

Which brings to mind her childhood's innocent day
And the dear fields and friendships far away.
The maid of INDIA, bless'd again to hold
In her full lap the Champac's leaves of gold,"
Thinks of the time when, by the GANGES' flood,
Her little playmates scatter'd many a bud
Upon her long black hair, with glossy gleam
Just dripping from the consecrated stream;
While the young Arab, haunted by the smell
Of her own mountain flow'rs, as by a spell,-
The sweet Elcaya,65 and that courteous tree
Which bows to all who seek its canopy,"
Sees, call'd up round her by these magic scents,
The well, the camels, and her father's tents;
Sighs for the home she left with little pain,
And wishes ev'n its sorrows back again!

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Meanwhile, through vast illuminated halls, Silent and bright, where nothing but the falls

For some pure Spirit to its blest abode:

And here, at once, the glittering saloon

Bursts on his sight, boundless and bright as noon,
Where, in the midst, reflecting back the rays
In broken rainbows, a fresh fountain plays
High as th' enamell'd cupola, which tow'rs
All rich with Arabesques of gold and flow'rs
And the mosaic floor beneath shines through
The sprinkling of that fountain's silv'ry dew,
Like the wet, glist'ning shells, of ev'ry dye,
That on the margin of the Red Sea lie.

Here too he traces the kind visitings
Of woman's love in those fair, living things
Of land and wave, whose fate-in bondage throvn
For their weak loveliness-is like her own!
On one side gleaming with a sudden grace
Through water, brilliant as the crystal vase
In which it undulates, small fishes shine,
Like golden ingots from a fairy mine;—
While, on the other, latticed lightly in
With odoriferous woods of COMORIN,68
Each brilliant bird that wings the air is seen;-
Gay, sparkling loories, such as gleam between
The crimson blossoms of the coral tree"9
In the warm isles of India's sunny sea:
Mecca's blue sacred pigeon," and the thrush
Of Hindostan," whose holy warblings gush,
At evening, from the tall pagoda's top;—
Those golden birds that, in the spice-time, drop
About the gardens, drunk with that sweet food"
Whose scent hath lured them o'er the summer
flood;73

And those that under Araby's soft sun
Build their high nests of budding cinnamon ;”
In short, all rare and beauteous things, that fly
Through the pure element, here calmly lie
Sleeping in light, like the green birds" that dwell
In Eden's radiant fields of asphodel;

So on, through scenes past all imagining,
More like the luxuries of that impious King,"
Whom Death's dark Angel, with his lightning torch,
Struck down and blasted ev'n in Pleasure's porch,

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Life, health, and lustre into Freedom's wreath.

"Who, that surveys this span of earth we press,-
"This speck of life in time's great wilderness,
"This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas,
"The past, the future, two eternities!-
"Would sully the bright spot, or leave it bare,
"When he might build him a proud temple there,
"A name, that long shall hallow all its space,
"And be each purer soul's high resting-place.
"But no-it cannot be, that one, whom God
"Has sent to break the wizard Falsehood's rod,-
"A Prophet of the Truth, whose mission draws
"Its rights from Heaven, should thus profane its

eause

"With the world's vulgar pomps;-no, no,—I see—
"He thinks me weak-this glare of luxury
"Is but to tempt, to try the eaglet gaze

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While thus he thinks, still nearer on the breeze
Come those delicious, dream-like harmonies,
Each note of which but adds new, downy links
To the soft chain in which his spirit sinks.
He turns him tow'rd the sound, and far away
Through a long vista, sparkling with the play
Of countless lamps,-like the rich track which
Day

"Of my young soul-shine on, 'twill stand the Leaves on the waters, when he sinks from us,

blaze!"

So thought the youth;-but, ev'n while he defied This witching scene, he felt its witch'ry glide

So long the path, its light so tremulous;—
He sees a group of female forms advance,
Some chain'd together in the mazy dance
By fetters, forged in the green sunny bow'rs,

Through ev'ry sense. The perfume breathing | As they were captives to the King of Flow'rs;"

round,

Like a pervading spirit;-the still sound

Of falling waters, lulling as the song

Of Indian bees at sunset, when they throng
Around the fragrant NILICA, and deep

In its blue blossoms hum themselves to sleep :"

And some disporting round, unlink'd and free,
Who seem'd to mock their sisters' slavery;
And round and round them still, in wheeling flight
Went, like gay moths about a lamp at night;
While others waked, as gracefully along
Their feet kept time, the very soul of song

From psalt'ry, pipe, and lutes of heav'nly thrill,
Or their own youthful voices, heav'nlier still.
And now they come, now pass before his eye,
Forms such as Nature moulds, when she would vie
With Fancy's pencil, and give birth to things
Lovely beyond its fairest picturings.
Awhile they dance before him, then divide,
Breaking, like rosy clouds at even-tide
Around the rich pavilion of the sun,-
Till silently dispersing, one by one,

Through many a path, that from the chamber leads
To gardens, terraces, and moonlight meads,
Their distant laughter comes upon the wind,
And but one trembling nymph remains behind,—
Beck'ning them back in vain, for they are gone,
And she is left in all that light alone;
No veil to curtain o'er her beauteous brow,
In its young bashfulness more beauteous now;
But a light golden chain-work round her hair,”
Such as the maids of YEZD and SHIRAS wear,
From which, on either side, gracefully hung
A golden amulet, in th' Arab tongue,
Engraven o'er with some immortal line
From Holy Writ, or bard scarce less divine;
While her left hand, as shrinkingly she stood,
Held a small lute of gold and sandal-wood,
Which, once or twice, she touch'd with hurried
strain,

Then took her trembling fingers off again.
But when at length a timid glance she stole
At Azim, the sweet gravity of soul

She saw through all his features calm'd her fear,
And, like a half-tamed antelope, more near,

And a dew was distill'd from their flowers, that gave

All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone.

Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies,
An essence that breathes of it many a year;
Thus bright to my soul, as 'twas then to my
eyes,

Is that bower on the banks of the calm BENDE-
MEER!

"Poor maiden!" thought the youth, “if thou wert sent,

"With thy soft lute and beauty's blandishment, "To wake unholy wishes in this heart, "Or tempt its troth, thou little know'st the art. "For though thy lip should sweetly counsel wrong, "Those vestal eyes would disavow its song. "But thou hast breathed such purity, thy lay "Returns so fondly to youth's virtuous day, "And leads thy soul-if e'er it wandered thence"So gently back to its first innocence, "That I would sooner stop the unchain'd dove, "When swift returning to its home of love, "And round its snowy wing new fetters twine, "Than turn from virtue one pure wish of thine!"

Scarce had this feeling pass'd, when, sparkling

through

The gently open'd curtains of light blue
That veil'd the breezy casement, countless eyes,
Peeping like stars through the blue ev'ning skies,

Though shrinking still, she came ;-then sat her Look'd laughing in, as if to mock the pair

down

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That sat so still and melancholy there:-
And now the curtains fly apart, and in
From the cool air, 'mid show'rs of jessamine
Which those without fling after them in play,
Two lightsome maidens spring,-lightsome as they
Who live in th' air on odors,—and around
The bright saloon, scarce conscious of the ground,
Chase one another, in a varying dance
Of mirth and languor, coyness and advance,
Too eloquently like love's warm pursuit :-
While she, who sung so gently to the lute
Her dream of home, steals timidly away,
Shrinking as violets do in summer's ray,—
But takes with her from AZIM's heart that sigh,
We sometimes give to forms that pass us by
In the world's crowd, too lovely to remain,
Creatures of light we never see again!

Around the white necks of the nymphs who danced

Hung carcanets of orient gems, that glanced

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