Fringilla: Some Tales In Verse | Page 4

chain hath e'er been

round her;
Silver star hath sealed her brow,
Holy as an Isis cow.
Free to wander where she listeth;
No immurement must defile
(So
the ancient law insisteth)
This, the hallowed bride of Nile.
What recks Abraham's descendant
Idols, priests, and pomps attendant?

And how long shall nature heed
What the stocks and stones
decreed?
XI
"Fiendish superstitions hold thee
To a vile and hideous death.
Break
their bonds; let love enfold thee;
Off, and fly with me;"--he saith.
"Off! while priests are cutting capers--
Priests of beetles, cats, and
tapirs,
Brutes, who would thy beauty truck,
For an inch of yellow
muck.
"Lo, my horse, _Pyropus_, yearneth
For the touch of thy light form;

Like the lightning, his eye burneth;
And his nostril, like the storm.
XII
"What are those unholy pagans?
Can they ride? No more than Dagons.

Fishtails ne'er could sit a steed;
That belongs to Esau's seed.
"I will make thee Queen of far lands,
Flocks, and herds, and
camel-trains,
Milk and honey, fruit and garlands,
Vines and venison,
woods and wains.
"God is with us; He shall speed us;
Or (if this vile crew impede us)

Let some light into their brain,
By the sword of Tubal Cain."
XIII
"Nay," she answered, deeply sighing,
As the maid grew womanish--


"Love, how hard have I been trying'
To believe the thing I wish!
"Thou hast taught me holy teachings,
Where to offer my beseechings,

Homage due to Heaven alone,
Not to ghosts, and graven stone,
"Thou hast shown me truth and freedom,
Love, and faith in One most
High;
But thou hast not, Prince of Edom,
Taught me therewithal, to
lie.
XIV
"Little cause had I for fretting,
None on earth to be regretting;
Till I
saw thee, brave and kind;
And my heart undid my mind.
"Better, if the Gods had slain me,
When no difference could be;
Ere
the joy had come to pain me,
And, alas, my dear one, thee!
"But shall my poor life throw shame on
Royal lineage of Amor?
Tis
of Egypt's oldest strains;
Kingly blood flows in my veins.
XV
"Thou hast seen; my faith is plighted,
That I will not fly my doom.

Honour is a flower unblighted,
Though the fates cut off its bloom.
"I have sent my last sun sleeping,
And I am ashamed of weeping.

God, my new God, give me grace
To be worthy of my race.
"Though this death our bodies sever,
Thou shalt find me there above;

Where I shall be learning ever,
To be worthy of thy love."
XVI
From his gaze she turned, to borrow
Pride's assistance against
sorrow--
God vouchsafes that scanty loan,
When He taketh all our
own.

Sudden thought of heaven's inspiring
Flashed through bold Duke
Iram's heart;
Angels more than stand admiring,
When a man takes
his own part.
'Tis the law the Lord hath taught us,
To undo what Satan wrought us;

To confound the foul fiend's plan,
With the manliness of man.
XVII
"Thou art right," he answered lowly,
As a youth should sneak a maid;

"Like thyself, thy word is holy;
Love is hate, if it degrade.
"But when thou hast well surrendered,
And thy sacrifice is tendered--

God do so, and more to me,
If I slay not, who slay thee!
"Abraham's God hath ne'er forsaken
Them who trust in Him alway.

Thy sweet life shall not be taken.
Rest, and calm thee, while I pray."
XVIII
Like a little child, that kneeleth
To tell God whate'er he feeleth,

Bent the tall young warrior there,
And the palm-trees whispered
prayer.
She, outworn with woe and weeping,
Shared that influence from
above;
And the fear of death went sleeping
In the maiden faith and
love.
Less the stormy water waileth,
E'en the human tumult faileth;
Stars
their silent torches light,
To conduct the car of night
PART III
I
Lo, how bright-eyed morn awaketh
Tower and temple, nook and Nile;


How the sun exultant maketh
All the world return his smile!
O'er the dry sand, vapour twinkleth,
Like an eye when old age
wrinkleth;
While, along the watered shore
Runs a river of gold ore.
Temple-front and court resemble
Mirrors swung in wavering light;

While the tapering columns tremble
At the view of their own height.
II
Marble shaft, and granite portal,
Statues of the Gods immortal

Quiver, with their figures bent,
In a liquid pediment
Thence the flood-leat followeth swiftly,
Where the peasant, spade in
hand,
Guideth many a runnel deftly
Through his fruit and
pasture-land;
Oft, the irriguous bank cross-slicing,
Plaited trickles he keeps
enticing;
Till their gravelly gush he feels,
Overtaking his brown
heels.
III
Life--that long hath born the test of
More than ours could bear, and
live,
Springs anew, to make the best of
Every chance the Gods may
give,
Doum-tree stiffeneth flagging feather;
Pate-leaves cease to cling
together;
Citrons clear their welted rind;
Vines their mildewed
sprays unwind.
Gourds, and melons, spread new lustre
On their veiny dull shagreen;

While the starred pomegranates cluster
Golden balls, with pink
between.
IV

Yea, but heaven hath ordered duly,
Lest mankind should wax unruly,

Egypt, garner of all lore,
Narrow as a threshing-floor.
East, and West, lies desolation,
Infinite, untracked, untold
Shroud
for all of God's creation,
When the wild blast lifts its fold;
There eternal melancholy
Maketh all delight unholy;
As a stricken
widow glides
Past a group of laughing brides.
Who is this, that so disdaineth
Dome and desert, fear and fate;

While his jewell'd