University of Virginia Library

XVII.

Days, weeks and months have been and gone,
And lovely Zulma dwells alone
In solitary castle high
Between fair earth and fairer sky.
Julian had been, all lovers are,
Had knelt and sworn his deathless love,
And, like a sky-throned, radiant star,
Thrown light and beauty from above;
He had been all that being is,
Whom kindoms wait—I dare not dwell
On man's intent to offer bliss
To one who had for him farewell
Bidden all thoughts of earth and heaven,
And sole to him her full heart given.
Prince Julian was Campania's heir,
And thus decreed his royal sire;—
“Thou wed'st proud Austria's daughter fair,
“Or never com'st the sceptre nigher.”
Julian was proud of pomp and fame—
The fair nun could nor trump his name
Nor plume his power—but she might be
The unseen queen of sovereignty,
The empress of his private hours—
The angel of his palace bowers.
So Julian thought, though he had tried
Her honest fame by speech oblique
And look lascivious, when his pride
And birth and state appeared most weak
Before wronged Zulma's Juno eye,
Whose glance spake pride and purity.
From day to day he talked of love,
While Zulma would not see his aim,
Save when the princely sophist strove
To prove all rites a needless name;
Then flashed her eye and glowed her brow,
Like sunbeams o'er the mountain snow.
On love I will not moralize;
It hath more wiles and snares than sighs;
Sooth be the tale and fair I tell—
His deeds are man's true chronicle.