Poems By Edward Quillinan. With a Memoir by William Johnston |
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ZELINDA. |
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ZELINDA.
“What says my lord?” Zelinda cried,
“From yonder pine-tree spring!”
“Alas!” the woeful prince replied,
“Thy lover's scarf I bring.”
“From yonder pine-tree spring!”
“Alas!” the woeful prince replied,
“Thy lover's scarf I bring.”
“I know then well for whom,” she said,
“The Houris now rejoice:”
And not a tear the mourner shed,
The woe was in her voice.
“The Houris now rejoice:”
And not a tear the mourner shed,
The woe was in her voice.
179
She thank'd the prince with tearless eyes,
And, when his tale was told,
She turn'd to hide her blood-stain'd prize,
As miser hides his gold.
And, when his tale was told,
She turn'd to hide her blood-stain'd prize,
As miser hides his gold.
That night the Queen, by pity sway'd,
Would go and vigil keep
Beside Zelinda's couch, the maid
Whose sorrow would not weep.
Would go and vigil keep
Beside Zelinda's couch, the maid
Whose sorrow would not weep.
Within her own alcove she found
The maiden laid to rest;
A scarf across her bosom bound,
One hand upon it prest.
The maiden laid to rest;
A scarf across her bosom bound,
One hand upon it prest.
The gracious Queen with pity smiled,
With joy and pity meek,
To see the sleeper's woe beguiled,
And gently kiss'd her cheek;
With joy and pity meek,
To see the sleeper's woe beguiled,
And gently kiss'd her cheek;
And softly as a mother moves,
Who fears the dew to shake
Of slumber from the flower she loves,
Who fears her babe to wake,
Who fears the dew to shake
Of slumber from the flower she loves,
Who fears her babe to wake,
180
So softly did the Moorish Queen
Lie down to share repose
With her who slept in such serene
Oblivion of her woes.
Lie down to share repose
With her who slept in such serene
Oblivion of her woes.
The royal dame to slumber's yoke
Her own thoughts bent in vain,
And daylight's earliest glimmer broke
Her dream's transparent chain.
Her own thoughts bent in vain,
And daylight's earliest glimmer broke
Her dream's transparent chain.
Zelinda still lay placidly
As in the last night's gloom,
Just as a sculptured effigy
Reposes on a tomb.
As in the last night's gloom,
Just as a sculptured effigy
Reposes on a tomb.
Her dark locks round her fair face curved,
As round the moon a cloud;
And from her bosom had not swerved
That scarf's ensanguined shroud.
As round the moon a cloud;
And from her bosom had not swerved
That scarf's ensanguined shroud.
And by the fine lids, darkly fringed,
Her eyes half-curtain'd were,
And though her lips with blood were tinged,
A heavenly smile was there.
Her eyes half-curtain'd were,
And though her lips with blood were tinged,
A heavenly smile was there.
181
The royal lady shuddering cried,
“Zelinda, how is this?
Wake, smiling sleeper!” and she tried
To wake her with a kiss.
“Zelinda, how is this?
Wake, smiling sleeper!” and she tried
To wake her with a kiss.
She prest the clay-cold cheek in vain;
Last night 'twas faintly warm—
All night the gentle Queen had lain
Beside a lifeless form.
Last night 'twas faintly warm—
All night the gentle Queen had lain
Beside a lifeless form.
| Poems | |