The Poetical Works of Anna Seward With Extracts from her Literary Correspondence. Edited by Walter Scott ... In Three Volumes |
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THE
SONG OF ZILLIA. |
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 | The Poetical Works of Anna Seward |  |
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THE SONG OF ZILLIA.
Lamp of thy tender Zillia's vital day,
Throb of her heart, her first, her only love,
Incessant as her steps disorder'd stray
Along the vacant,—silent,—lonely grove,
Once the selected of thy beauteous train,
Calls her far wandering Lord, but calls in vain!
Throb of her heart, her first, her only love,
Incessant as her steps disorder'd stray
Along the vacant,—silent,—lonely grove,
Once the selected of thy beauteous train,
Calls her far wandering Lord, but calls in vain!
Ah, my loved Sultan! often hast thou bound
Golconda's diamonds on my youthful brow!
But dim the plum'd and jewel'd turban found
In faded eyes, that weep a broken vow.
Lost is the gem, that shames Peruvia's store,
Thy heart, my Lord—restore it!—O, restore!
Golconda's diamonds on my youthful brow!
But dim the plum'd and jewel'd turban found
In faded eyes, that weep a broken vow.
Lost is the gem, that shames Peruvia's store,
Thy heart, my Lord—restore it!—O, restore!
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Ye robes of Irva, ye embroider'd veils,
Gifts of my Lord, this hapless breast that bind,
Ah! when the piercing dart of grief assails,
Can ye defend my love-devoted mind?
From suns ye screen, or when chill dews prevail,
Not from love's fire, or absence' icy gale.
Gifts of my Lord, this hapless breast that bind,
Ah! when the piercing dart of grief assails,
Can ye defend my love-devoted mind?
From suns ye screen, or when chill dews prevail,
Not from love's fire, or absence' icy gale.
Ye gilded palaces, ye marble cells,
In which the tepid fountain sleeps serene,
Ye bowers of roses, where the night-bird tells
His amorous story to the floral queen,
Ah! what avail ye? powerless to atone
The heart estrang'd, that once was all my own!
In which the tepid fountain sleeps serene,
Ye bowers of roses, where the night-bird tells
His amorous story to the floral queen,
Ah! what avail ye? powerless to atone
The heart estrang'd, that once was all my own!
These gay pavilions, these odorous bowers,
So long the joy of thy distinguish'd maid!
They charm no more;—no more, with tempting powers,
Pomegranates redden through their leafy shade;
Unheard the minstrel trills the liquid strain,
And Persia lights her fragrant gums in vain.
So long the joy of thy distinguish'd maid!
They charm no more;—no more, with tempting powers,
Pomegranates redden through their leafy shade;
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And Persia lights her fragrant gums in vain.
But let my Sultan seek these longing arms,
His eyes shall give my darkened gems to shine;
These gay retreats assume their wonted charms,
And all the bliss of vanish'd days be mine.
Blest, above women, shall the fair-one prove,
Who twines for him the purple wreaths of love!
His eyes shall give my darkened gems to shine;
These gay retreats assume their wonted charms,
And all the bliss of vanish'd days be mine.
Blest, above women, shall the fair-one prove,
Who twines for him the purple wreaths of love!
THE SONG OF ZILLIA.
“O! thou lamp of my life, my first, my only love, in vain “do I now call upon thee. Thou art afar off, and hearest not “the voice of thy Zillia,—once the most favoured of thy Seraglio.
“Shawls of Cassimir, and robes of Irva, were presents from “my Lord—such gay attire has no charms for Zillia—They “cannot make her happier.
“Thy palaces, thy baths, and thy gardens, afford me ho “pleasure—Take them back—they no longer delight me.
“The mango and pomegranate tempt me in vain—for the “fragrance of flowers, and odours of spices, or the songs of “minstrels, I have no relish.
“But return, O my Lord, to thine handmaid!—come back “to her arms!—restore to her thy heart, and every pleasure “will be renewed—she will be the happiest of women.
| The Poetical Works of Anna Seward | |