III.
When Ismael learn’d, from whom he drew his breath,
Shich-Eidar’s virtues, and Shich-Eidar’s death,90
The rightful heir to Persia’s realms; his soul
With glory heav’d, disdaining Love’s control.
He left the maid, for Honour’s trumpet blew,
And straight to arms, and to revenge he flew.
Wrong’d by oppression, or impell’d by fame,
Around his standard, thousands daily came:
His sire’s old followers, joying to behold,
From their dead sage, arise a son so bold;
And many a chief, who lov’d in him to trace
A branch of Iran’s ancient royal race,100
And that an alien from his blood should fill
The throne of Usum Cassan, brook’d it ill.
Many, who view’d his talents and admir’d;
And more, by love of battle-spoils inspir’d;
Widen’d each day the miscellaneous band,
That swore to fight at Ismael’s command.—
He fought, and conquer’d! to applauding fame
Victorious war had giv’n his youthful name.
Alvante reign’d upon the Persian throne,
In Tauris sway’d, what Ismael deem’d his own;110
Thither he march’d, resolv’d, at one great blow,
His hopes, his fortunes, and his life to throw.
Tir’d with their rapid march, eve found his train
Encamp’d near Tauris, on soft Caymyr’s plain.
In yon tall tow’r, just peeping from the grove,
Knew Ismael there, now dwelt his ancient love:
For Ava fell in battle, and the fair
Gave to her mother Amagilda’s care.
And she, for safety from the civil war,
Fled from her native halls and vallies far;120
And with this only child, the widow’d dame,
To that tall tow’r near stately Tauris, came.
Unknown to all, high Ismael mounts his horse,
And tow’rds his Selyma directs his course.
IV.
What light is streaming through the darken’d gloom?
That radiance comes from Selyma’s lone room!
She, pensive, leaning on her iv’ry arm,
Hangs o’er her lattice, to imbibe the balm
That eve imparts, while Fancy’s pow’r pourtrays
The ling’ring charm, that hangs on other days.130
From her bright eyes, where Love had fix’d his throne,
The tears of mem’ry cours’d each other down,
And her white bosom heav’d so deep a sigh—
’Twas like a long, long strain of dying melody!
“And where art thou, companion of my youth?
“Where are thy vows of never-ceasing truth?
“’Tis in idea alone, alas! I trace
“The well-known features of that beaming face;
“Curs’d be the fatal, the dire-omen’d day,
“That glory tore thee, from mine arms, away!140
“Curs’d be that glory, which will lead thee on,
“Where ruthless Azrail’s thickest dangers throng;
“Yes, thou wilt die; or, living, die to me!”
‘No, Selyma, I’m here, and live for thee.’
Scarce had the virgin turn’d her wond’ring eyes,
Scarce giv’n the sound of fearful, glad surprise,
Then at her feet, reality has brought
The worshipp’d object of her ev’ry thought:
Swift o’er the senses of her ravish’d soul,
A temporary, kind oblivion stole;150
But soon reviv’d, her eager eyes survey
Him, whom she thought was ever snatch’d away.
“And dost thou live, and does mine eye once more,
“View, what it deem’d was ever, ever o’er?”
‘Yes, Selyma, my first, my only love,
‘I still am faithful as thy kindred dove.
‘The Chieftain Ismael, heir to Persia’s throne,
‘Comes, humble Ismael’s vows of love to own;
‘To lead thee forth, the fairest of the fair,
‘My love, my glory, and my realms to share.160
‘To morrow’s sun shall see my banners wave
‘O’er Persia’s city, and Alvante’s grave.
‘And thronging crowds shall hail my lovely bride,
‘Rich Iran’s princess, and high Ismael’s pride!’
“Ah, Ismael, happier far my lot would be,
“To range our earlier scenes of love with thee!
“How would thine humble Selyma repine,
“That loathed state should keep her soul from thine.
“But why should selfish love attempt to mar
“The bright refulgence of thine happier star!170
“Whatever pleases Ismael, must be,
“O soul of Selyma, most dear to thee!”
Thus, in sweet converse, the fast-flying hours
Were, like some bridegroom’s path, o’erstrew’d with flow’rs.
At length remember’d Ismael, lest the morn
Should show his absence, he must now return.
And Selyma, awak’ning from her trance,
Sent all her soul to his in one fond glance.
“Ah, dost thou leave me, still, alas! unkind,
“Must Ismael go, and I remain behind?180
“Perhaps some arm, amid the bloody strife,
“May rear the blade against thy valued life;—
“Oh, let me go with thee!—thine arm, my shield,
“Oh, let me share the perils of the field!
“What though I fall, what death can be so dear,
“To cast my dying eyes around, and see thee near.”
High Ismael clasp’d the mourner to his breast,
And dried the falling torrents in his vest;
E’en though inur’d to war, to toil, to pain,
Though wont to gaze, unmoved, at heaps of slain,190
Yet, as he view’d the anguish of the maid,
Adown his cheek the pitying tear-drop stray’d.
‘Farewell, another sun perchance may see,
‘Thine Ismael return to love, and thee.
‘How could that form of beauty learn to bear
‘The din of camps, the toils of blood and war!
‘Unman me not with this thy pleading wo—
‘Think, O my love, that Honour bids me go;
‘And the same law that summons me away,
‘Commands thee here, my Selyma, to stay;—200
‘Farewell.’—
O! who that ne’er experienc’d it can tell
What meaning hangs on that sole word—farewell—
The piercing, thrilling glance, the tender air,
That utter more than words can tell,—are there;
And the big tear that dims the sparkling eye;
And the mute language of th’ imploring sigh;
And that soft, ling’ring tone, that seems the sound
Of love himself, upon that word is found.
O ne’er, O ne’er can he, whose inmost soul
Has never felt it, tell its sweet control!210
Selyma views him seize the snowy rein,
O’er his dark courser’s widely-streaming mane
(Like streaks of light in sable clouds) that hung,
Then on the back of mighty pride he sprung;—
One parting look he casts!—with eagle speed,
Away, away, swift scours that gen’rous steed.