University of Virginia Library

“Needs not to ask if in this favored place
Dwelleth the Rose of Goshen; for, than she,
Surely none else my vision blesseth now!
Fairest of Judah's daughters,—fairest far
Of all earth's loveliest,—give me thy kind thoughts:
Deem me not over bold, or light of talk;
For sacred truth I speak, and soul-enforced,
Not fancy-prompted. Expectation high
Hither hath brought us from a land far off,
Thee, chiefly, to behold; though to the court
Of Pharaoh go we also,—so far come,—
Else, left unvisited; since royal pomp
To us no charm hath, like the loveliness
Of beauty, and virtue; for which, trumpet-tongued,
Fame hath resounded thee. But voice of Fame,—
Too oft o'ergilding brass,—gold, now, hath bronzed;
So far beneath thy due the praise hath fallen.
We looked, indeed, to see earth's fairest rose,
But flower of Heaven have found. Oh! beautiful
Is every work of God; but, in thee, all
His choicest beauties mingle. Turn thou not,
Fairest, thy face aside; for truth, pure truth,
Alone I utter: from my soul come forth,
Compelled, the works I speak. I cannot look
Upon thee, and be silent; for my heart
Smites on my tongue, and forces it to speak.
Misdeem me not some common flatterer;
Some dresser up of falsehoods, meant to please
Weak woman's vanity, and mock her sense.
From distant Syria am I come, thyself
Solely to see; thee solely: yet, in thee,
Essence of earth's most good, and beautiful.
And more than all I sought for, have I found.
But, who I am, that thus have dared approach,
Meet is I tell thee. Haply, of the king
Of Syria, Phatos, the renowned in war,
And richest of all monarchs of the East,
The fame hath reached thee. Who before thee stands,
His son is, Samath named,—his eldest son,
And heir unto his throne,—though distant far,
Grant me, ye gods, that miserable day,
When from his noble head the crown shall pass
To mine, unworthy! She who with me comes,—
And whom I pray thee love,—is Lalia,
My dearest sister; and, throughout the East,
Most beauteous of all women beautiful,
By fame acknowledged: yet, with thine compared,
Sure am I,—for her soul's thought read I well,
As written in her eyes, and wondering looks,—
Homely and poor her charms esteemeth she,
As dew-drop's glimmer, to the diamond's gleam.
Oh! matchless truly is this work of God,
And forceth worship! Even on my knee,
Thou loveliest of all things beneath the sun,
Let me do homage; and, with heart sincere,
Implore,—though but for one brief hour it last,—
That, in the radiance of thy presence, we
Foretaste may have of that divinest joy,
When men with angels commune.”

Ceasing speech,
Upon his knee he sank; one ardent look,
Bright as celestial flame, upon her shot;
Then, as to higher Being, bowed his head,
All trembling, and was mute.

Astonished, fixed,
She heard, and gazed: for, music like his voice,
Never her ear had known; beauty like his,
Her eye had never seen: and that fair form,
His sister,—standing silently, and rapt,
Her gaze returning,—of all womankind,
Nought had she seen, with her to make compare.
Not mortal seemed she: surely, then, from Heaven
Must she have come; a visitant to earth,
For some good task; and soon to re-ascend!
If she, then also he, of Heavenly kind.
And worthy of Heaven he seemed; such air divine
In all his motions; such a loveliness,
And majesty of beauty; both in form,
And feature, and in that pure radiance,
From the large liquid eye, and all the face,
Beaming like glory of morn. Yet, what the words
That he had spoken! Though mellifluous more
Than sweetest tone of music was the voice;
Though all his ardent look, his trembling frame,
True feeling seemed to utter,—yet, alas!
What were the words! Untrue she knew them well:
But how untrue?—Exaggerate?—so false?.....
Yet, to reality, false,—to feeling, true,
Might they not be?.....The fevered eye beholds
A sun where all is dark;—but, saying this,
The man lies not; to him a sun there is,
Though, in Heaven, none. Could that rare being, then,
Like man, have been deceived?—how, hard to tell,
That beauty he had seen, where beauty none
Existed truly? But his sister, too,
Though word she spake not, had the sáme declared
In the eye's language.....And yet, marvel none
That so erred she: for, oft is it not seen,
That madness of one man makes many mad,—
Seeing as he sees, hearing as he hears,
Though truly all be nought? Not falsehood, then,
But sense-deception was it. A great fame
Of beauty, in his native country heard,
Had fired imagination; and on her,
By chance beheld, the fevered eye had cast
Its self-created glories.

Thus saw she,
Or thought she saw, as in one moment's glance,
Mingling of truth, and error; falsehood none,
Intended: nay, in nature pure as his,
Impossible, surely! and, to chase forthwith
From those, else clearest eyes, the darkening fumes,—
With words of simple earnestness and truth,
Quickly she answered him.

“Arise, O prince;
I pray thee rise: thou wouldst not mock me thus
With known deceit: but art thyself deceived;
In me, some other seeing. All unused
To such high presence am I; to such words,
Such praise, and such respect unmerited.
Thou knowest not, of a truth, to whom it is
That thus thou renderest homage, not her due.
An humble daughter am I of a race
Oppressëd sorely; and of small account
Even with my native people: unknown quite
By those of distant countries. Beauty none,
More than the lowliest, have I. Wrong report
Hath reached thee, then; or she, of whom 'twas said,
Far other is than I. Rachel my name.
No great one of the land my father is;
But sheep and cattle feedeth; and the ground
For corn, and fruit, and oil, and wine doth till.
Wealthy, indeed, is he; and in respect
By all our tribe long held; yet, but as one
Uprightly walking before God and man;
In self-esteem the humblest. Such are we;
Far different, as thou seest, from those thou sought.
Then tell me, prince, for whom thou dost enquire;
That, haply,—though I know not, nor have heard
Of such rare beauty, in this little land,
Where each to all is known......Reuben, perchance,”.....