Fringilla: Some Tales In Verse | Page 6

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 heart already knew
The way to conquer doubt
I
"When sleep was in the summer air,
And stars looked down on
Paradise,
And palms and cedars answered fair
The visionary
night-wind's sighs,
And murmuring prayer:
When every flower was in its hood
(By clasps of diamond dew
retained),
Or sunk to elude Phalcena's brood,
Down slumber's
breast with shadows veined,
In solitude:
The citron, stephanote, and rose,
Pomegranate, hoya, calycanth,

And yet unwanted amaranth,
Were sweetness in repose:
II
When rivulets were loth to creep,
Except unto the pillow moss,
And
distant lake, encurtained deep,
Was but a silver thread across
The
eyes of sleep:
When nightingales, in the sycamore,
Sang low and soft, as an echo
dreaming;
And slept the moon upon heaven's shore--
The tidal
shore of heaven, beaming
With lazuled ore:
When new-born earth was fain to lean
In Summer's arms, recovering

The unaccustomed toil of Spring,
Why slept not Eve, their Queen?

III
Upon a smooth fern-mantled stone
She sat, and watched the
wicket-gate,
Not timid in her woman's throne,
Nor lonely in her
sinless state,
Though all alone;
For having spread her simple board
With grapes, and peaches, milk,
and flowers,
She strewed sweet mastic o'er the sward,
And waited
through the bridal hours
Step of her lord.
Such innocence around her breathed,
And freshness of young nature's
play,
The sensitive plant shrank not away,
And cactus' swords were
sheathed.
IV
The vision of her beauty fell,
Like music on a moonlit place,
Or
trembles of a silver bell,
Or memories of a sacred face,
Too dear to
tell:
The grace that wandered free of laws,
The look that lit the heart's
confession,
Had never dreamed how fair it was;
Nor guessed that
purity's expression
Is beauty's cause:
No more that unenquiring heart
Perused the sweet home of her breast,

Than turtle-doves unline their nest
To scan the outer part
V
Although, in all that garden fair,
Whate'er delight abode, or grew,

Flowers, and trees, and balmy air,
Fountains, and birds, and heaven
blue
Beyond compare:
In her their various charms had met,
And grown more varied by
combining,
As budded plants do give and get,
Each inmate
doubling while resigning
His several debt:

And yet she nursed one joy, above
Her thousand charms, nor bora of
them,
But blooming on a single stem--
Her true faith in her love.
VI
And though, before she heard his foot,
The moon had climbed the
homestead palm,
Flinging to her the shadowed fruit,
And tree-frogs
ceased to break the calm,
And birds were mute,
With sudden transport ever new,
She blushed, and sprang from forth
the bower,
Her eyes, as bright as moon-lit dew,
Her bosom glad as
snow-veiled flower,
When sun shines through;
He, with a natural dignity
Untaught self-consciousness by harm,

Sustained her with his manly arm,
And smiled upon her glee.
VII
Next day, when early evening shone
Along the walks of Paradise,

Strewing with gold the hills, her throne,
Embarrassing the winds with
spice
(Too rich a loan),
Fair Eve was in her bower of ease,
A cool arcade of fruit and flowers,
From North and East enclasped by trees,
But open to the Western
showers,
And Southern breeze.
Here followed she her gardening trade,
Her favourites' simple needs
attending,
And singing soft, above them bending,
A song herself
had made.
VIII
In evening's calm, she walked between
The tints and shades of rich
delight,
While overhead came, arching green,
Many a shrub and
parasite,
To crown their Queen;

There laughed the joy of the rose, among
Myrtle and Iris, heaven's
eye,
Magnole, with cups of moonlight