IV. I stood beside her, but she saw me not- That led her there united, and shot forth From her far eyes a light of deep revealing, All but her dearest self from my regard concealing. V. Her lips were parted, and the measured breath Was now heard there ;-her dark and intrie; cate eyes Orb within orb, deeper than sleep or deata, Absorbed the glories of the burning skies, Which, mingling with her heart's deep ecstasies, Burst from her looks and gestures;—and a light Of liquid tenderness like love did rise From her whole frame, an atmosphere which quite Arrayed her in its beams, tremulous and soft and bright. VI. She would have clasped me to her glowing frame; Those warm and odorous lips might soon have shed On mine the fragrance and the invisible flame Which now the cold winds stole ;—she would have laid Upon my languid heart her dearest head; I might have heard her voice, tender and sweet; Her eyes, mingling with mine, might soon have fed My soul with their own joy.-One moment yet I gazed-we parted then, never again to meet! VII. Never but once to meet on Earth again! Return, ah me! return "-the wind passed by On which those accents died, faint, far, and lingeringly. VIII. Woe! woe! that moonless midnight-Want and Pest Were horrible, but one more fell doth rear, As in a hydra's swarming lair, its crest Eminent among those victims-even the Fear Of Hell: each girt by the hot atmosphere Of his blind agony, like a scorpion stung By his own rage upon his burning bier Of circling coals of fire; but still there clung One hope, like a keen sword on starting threads uphung: IX. Not death-death was no more refuge or rest; Its withering beam upon his slaves, did urge Their steps; they heard the roar of Hell's sulphureous surge. X. Each of that multitude alone, and lost To sense of outward things, one hope yet knew ; As on a foam-girt crag some seaman tossed Stares at the rising tide, or like the crew Whilst now the ship is splitting through and through; Each, if the tramp of a far steed was heard, Started from sick despair, or if there flew One murmur on the wind, or if some word Which none can gather yet, the distant crowd has stirred. XI. Why became cheeks wan with the kiss of death Paler from hope? they had sustained despair. Why watched those myriads with suspended breath Sleepless a second night? they are not here The victims, and hour by hour, a vision drear, Warm corpses fall upon the clay-cold dead; And even in death their lips are wreathed with fear. The crowd is mute and moveless-overhead Silent Arcturus shines-ha! hear'st thou not the tread XII. Of rushing feet? laughter? the shout, the scream, Of triumph not to be contained? see! hark! They come, they come, give way! alas, ye deem Falsely 'tis but a crowd of maniacs stark Driven, like a troop of spectres, through the dark, From the choked well, whence a bright deathfire sprung, A lurid earth-star, which dropped many a spark From its blue train, and, spreading widely, clung To their wild hair, like mist the topmost pines among. And many XIII. from the crowd collected there Joined that strange dance in fearful sympathies; There was the silence of a long despair, When the last echo of those terrible cries Came from a distant street, like agonies Stifled afar. Before the Tyrant's throne All night his agèd Senate sate, their eyes In stony expectation fixed; when one Sudden before them stood, a Stranger and alone. XIV. Dark Priests and haughty Warriors gazed on him With baffled wonder, for a hermit's vest Concealed his face; but when he spake, his tone, ; Ere yet the matter did their thoughts arrest, Earnest, benignant, calm, as from a breast Void of all hate or terror, made them start For as with gentle accents he addressed His speech to them, on each unwilling heart Unusual awe did fall-a spirit-quelling dart. XV. "Ye Princes of the Earth, ye sit aghast Amid the ruin which yourselves have made; Yes, Desolation heard your trumpet's blast, And sprang from sleep!-dark Terror has obeyed Your bidding-O, that I whom ye have made Your foe, could set my dearest enemy free From pain and fear! but evil casts a shade, Which cannot pass so soon, and Hate must be The nurse and parent still of an ill progeny. XVI. ; "Ye turn to God for aid in your distress Alas, that ye, the mighty and the wise, Who, if ye dared, might not aspire to less Than ye conceive of power, should fear the lies Which thou, and thou, didst frame for mysteries To blind your slaves:-consider your own thought, An empty and a cruel sacrifice |