L. It died away;-the incense-cloud was driven Parting in clouds from those that look'd their last, And sigh'd-" Farewell, thou sun!"-Eve glow'd and pass'd Night-midnight and the moon-came forth and shed Sleep, even as dew, on glen, wood, peopled spotSave one-a place of death-and there men slumber'd not. LI. 'Twas not within the city 7—but in sight Of the snow-crown'd sierras, freely sweeping, With many an eagle's eyrie on the height, And hunter's cabin, by the torrent peeping Far off: and vales between, and vineyards lay, With sound and gleam of waters on their way, And chesnut-woods, that girt the happy sleeping, In many a peasant-home!--the midnight sky Brought softly that rich world round those who came to die. LII. The darkly-glorious midnight sky of Spain, O bright Theresa! with thy lifted brow, And thy clasp'd hands, and dark eyes fill'd with prayer! And thee, sad Inez! bowing thy fair head, And mantling up thy face, all colourless with dread! LIII. And Alvar, Alvar!—I beheld thee too, Pale, steadfast, kingly; till thy clear glance fell On that young sister; then perturb'd it grew, And all thy labouring bosom seem'd to swell With painful tenderness. Why came I there, That troubled image of my friend to bear Thence, for my after-years?—a thing to dwell In my heart's core, and on the darkness rise, Disquieting my dreams with its bright mournful eyes? LIV. Why came I? oh! the heart's deep mystery!- In man's last hour doth vain affection's gaze To the dimm'd eye-balls freezing, as they glaze ? LV. The trampling of a steed !—a tall white steed, And rush'd to that pale girl, and clasp'd her to his heart. LVI. And for a moment all around gave way Pressing out joy by thine immortal power, For thee and thine, this world were all to fair! How could we thence be wean'd to die without despair? LVII. But she-as falls a willow from the storm, Its mother's breast beyond the lightning's reach to LVIII. Brief rest! upon the turning billow's height, A strange sweet moment of some heavenly strain, Floating between the savage gusts of night, That sweep the seas to foam! Soon dark again The hour-the scene-th' intensely present, rush'd Back on her spirit, and her large tears gush'd Like blood-drops from a victim; with swift rain Bathing the bosom where she lean'd that hour, As if her life would melt into th' o'erswelling shower. LIX. But he, whose arm sustain'd her!-oh! I knew Could mean the sting of death for her soft flowering youth! |