MOHAMMEDAN TALE
Who is mourning there in Glamodelec's fortress? 'Tis the Vila—'tis an angry serpent? 'Tis no Vila—'tis no angry serpent! 'Tis the maid Emina there lamenting— There lamenting, for her woe is grievous! Lo! the Ban[[26]] the maiden hath imprison'd— Hath imprison'd her, and will baptize her; But Emina never will be faithless— From the white-wall'd tower will fling her rather.
Thus the unbelieving Ban address'd her: "Unbelieving Ban! a moment tarry, While I hasten to the upper story." And she hasten'd to the upper story; Look'd around her from the white-wall'd fortress: In the distance saw her father's dwelling— Saw the white school where she pass'd her childhood "O my father's home! my poor heart's sorrow! School of childhood! once that childhood's terror! Many a day of weariness and sorrow Did thy small-writ lessons give Emina."
Then she wrapp'd her snowy robes around her— Thought not of the band that bound her tresses, And she flung her from the fortress turret. But her hair-band caught the open window— From the window, ah she hung suspended— Hung a week suspended from the window— Then her hair gave away—and then the maiden On the greensward fell.
The Christian heard it— He, the Christian Ban, and hasten'd thither; Oft and oft he kiss'd the dead Emina; And he peacefully entom'd the maiden. O'er her grave a chapel he erected, And with golden apples he adorn'd it. Ere a week had pass'd away, descended On her tomb a beauteous light from heaven; At her head a beauteous light was kindled; At her feet another light shone sweetly; And her aged mother saw and wonder'd From her chain she took her knife, and plunged it— Plunged it deep within her troubled bosom— Fell, and died—O melancholy mother! S. J. B.
LVIII
LOVE'S DIFFICULTIES
I loved her from her infancy, Lado![[27]] Lado! From childhood to maturity, Lado! Lado! And when I claim'd the smiling maid, Lado! Lado! "Ye are of kindred blood!" they said, Lado! Lado! "Brother and sister's children ye, Lado! Lado! It were a sin to steal a kiss," Lado! Lado! Oh what a sacrifice is this! Lado! Lado! I'll steal a kiss though I be riven, Lado! Lado! From every, every hope of heaven, Lado! Lado! For what would heaven become to me Lado! Lado! When the long nights of autumn flee, Lado! Lado! S. J. B.