Fringilla: Some Tales In Verse | Page 5

my friend!" The touch he knoweth?Calms his heart, howe'er it gloweth:?Horse can shame a man, to quell?Passion, where he loveth well.
"Nay, endure we," saith the rider,?"Till her plighted word be paid;?Then, though Satan stand beside her,?God shall help me swing this blade."
X
Lo, upon the deep-piled dais,?Wrought in hallowed looms of Sais,?O'er the impetuous torrent's swoop,?Stands the sacrificial group!
Tall High-priest, with zealot fires?Blazing in those eyeballs old,?Swathes him, as his rank requires,?Head to foot, in linen fold.
Seven attendants round him vying,?In a lighter vesture plying,?Four with skirts, and other three?Tunic'd short from waist to knee.
XI
Free among them stands the maiden,?Clad in white for her long rest;?Crowned with gold, and jewel-laden,?With a lily on her breast
Lily is the mark that showeth?Where that pure and sweet heart gloweth;?Here must come, to shed her life,?Point of sacrificial knife.
Here the knife is, cold and gleaming,?Here the colder butcher band.?Was the true love nought but dreaming,?Feeble heart, and coward hand?
XII
Strength unto the weak is given,?When their earthly bonds are riven;?Ere the spirit is called away,?Heaven begins its tranquil sway.
Life hath been unstained, and therefore?Pleasant to look back upon;?But there is not much to care for,?When the light of love is gone.
Still, though love were twice as fleeting,?Longeth she for one last greeting;?If her eyes might only dwell?Once on his, to say farewell
XIII
"Glorious Hapi," spake Piromis,?Lifting high his weapon'd hand;?"Earth thy footstool, heaven thy dome is,?We the pebbles on thy strand.
"Thou hast leaped the cubits twenty,?Dowering us with peace and plenty;?Mutha shows thee her retreat,?And the desert licks thy feet,
"We have passed through our purgation,?Once again we are thy kin;?God, accept our expiation,?Maiden pure of mortal sin."
XIV
"Ha!" the king cried, smiling blandly;?"Ha!" the trumpets answered grandly.?Proudly priest whirled, knife on high,?While the maiden bowed--to die.
Sudden, through the ranks beside her,?Scattering men, like sparks of flint,?Burst a snow-white horse and rider,?Rapid as the lightning's glint.
One blow hurls Arch-priest to quiver?Headless, in his beloved river,?In the twinkling of an eye,?All the rest are dead, or fly.
XV
Iram, from _Pyropus_ sweeping,?As a mower swathes the rye,?Caught his love, in terror sleeping,?And her light form swings on high.
"Soul of Khons!" Sesostris shouted,?Striding down the planks blood-grouted--?Into his beard fell something light,?And he spat, and swooned with fright.
What hath made this great king stagger,?Reel, and shriek--"unclean, unclean!"?Thunderbolt, or flash of dagger??Nay, 'twas but a garden bean.
XVI
Brave _Pyropus_, blood-bespattered,?Snorts at men and corpses scattered,?Throws his noble chest more wide,?Leaps into the leaping tide.
Vainly hiss a thousand arrows,?Launched at random through the foam;?Every stroke the distance narrows?Twixt him and his desert home.
Sorely tried, and passion-shaken,?Long amid her foes forsaken,?Now, in tumult of surprise,?Lita knows not where she lies.
[Illustration: 056.]
XVII
Till a bright wave breaks upon her,?And her clear perceptions wake--?All his valour, prowess, honour,?Scorn of life, for her poor sake!
Gently then her eyes she raises,?(Eyes, whence all the pure soul gazes)?Softly brings her lips to his--?Lips, wherein the whole heart is.
Let the furious waters welter,?Let the rough winds roar above;?Waves are warmth, and storms are shelter,?In the upper heaven of love.
XVIII
Fierce the flood, and wild the danger;?Yet the noble desert-ranger?Flinches not, nor flags, before?He hath brought them safe ashore.
Lives there man, who would have striven,?Reckless thus of storm and sword;?Leaped into the gulf, and given?Heart and soul, to please his Lord?
With caresses they have plied him,?Hand in hand they kneel beside him,?While their mutual vows they plight?To the God of life and light
XIX
Ha! What meaneth yon sword-flashing??Trumps, and shouts from wave and isle??Lo, the warrior galleys dashing,?To avenge insulted Nile!
Haste! The brave steed, leaping lightly,?'Neath his double burden sprightly,?Challenges, with scornful note,?Every horse in Pharaoh's boat.
King of Egypt, curb thy rages;?Lo, how trouble should be borne!?Memnon soothes the woe of ages,?With a sweet song, every morn.
[Illustration: 062.]
[Illustration: 065.]
KADISHA; OR, THE FIRST JEALOUSY
AN EASTERN LEGEND
HERE IS A CURIOUS LEGEND AS TO THE ORIGIN OP JEALOUSY. WHEN ADAM AND EVE WERE IN PARADISE, THE FORMER WAS ACCUSTOMED TO RETIRE AT EVENTIDE TO THE RECESSES OF THE GARDEN, FOR THE PURPOSE OF PRAYER. ON ONE OF THESE OCCASIONS THE DEVIL APPEARED TO EVE, AND INFORMED HER THAT HER SOLITUDE WAS TO BE ACCOUNTED FOR BY THE ATTRACTIONS OF ANOTHER FAIR ONE. EVE REPLIED THAT IT COULD NOT BE SO, AS SHE WAS THE ONLY WOMAN IN EXISTENCE. "IF I SHOW YOU ANOTHER, WILL YOU BELIEVE ME?" RETURNED THE EVIL ONE, AND PRODUCED A MIRROR, IN WHICH SHE SAW HER OWN REFLECTION, AND MISTOOK IT FOR HER RIVAL. See "_Life in Abyssinia_," by Mr. Parkyns. Murray, Albemarle Street.
The Kadisha, flowing to the south of Lebanon, is called?"the holy river," as having been a minor stream of Paradise.
[Illustration: 066.]
PART I
True love's regale is incomplete,?'Till bitter leaven make it sweet;?Accept not then our tale amiss,?That jealousy was part of bliss;?But rather note a mercy here,?That fact was thus outrun by fear;?And so, before the harder bout,?When sin must be encountered too,?A woman's