 | The Village Churchyard |  |
212
THE FAREWELL TO ZEINEB.
For Zeineb's smile, and for Zeineb's song,
I rush to the gonfalon and gong:
'Stead of sweet Music's dying fall—
Lo! the crash of armour and atabal!
I rush to the gonfalon and gong:
'Stead of sweet Music's dying fall—
Lo! the crash of armour and atabal!
'Stead of dark Zeineb's musky sighs—
'Stead of the starlight of her eyes—
The cymbal, the shawm, the war-conch's peal,
And the crimsoned flash of sweeping steel.
'Stead of the starlight of her eyes—
The cymbal, the shawm, the war-conch's peal,
And the crimsoned flash of sweeping steel.
I have languished upon the bulbul's strain;
I must hear the thunders of War's wild plain:
I have lingered where th' orange scents float past;
I must breathe red Battle's sulphureous blast.
I must hear the thunders of War's wild plain:
I have lingered where th' orange scents float past;
I must breathe red Battle's sulphureous blast.
213
Yet I rush, like the wind, to the stormy field,
For I love the spear, and I love the shield,
The warrior's hardships, and warrior's zest,
More than a monarch's luxurious rest.
For I love the spear, and I love the shield,
The warrior's hardships, and warrior's zest,
More than a monarch's luxurious rest.
Lo! the war-blast drowns the farewell-song:
Forth to the battle, ye proud and strong!
Let our country's claim, and our country's call,
Be the dearest sound and spell of all!
Forth to the battle, ye proud and strong!
Let our country's claim, and our country's call,
Be the dearest sound and spell of all!
Soon, soon shall th' enslaved and th' enslavers meet,
And our chains shall be trod by our trampling feet:
Loud is the voice of thy gathering, Oh War!
Zeineb, I leave thee, my heart's young star!
And our chains shall be trod by our trampling feet:
Loud is the voice of thy gathering, Oh War!
Zeineb, I leave thee, my heart's young star!
Yet, I leave thee with scarce a reluctant sigh,
For I'll nobly conquer, or nobly die;
And oh! let no tears insult my grave,
If I perish; but bless the true and brave!
For I'll nobly conquer, or nobly die;
And oh! let no tears insult my grave,
If I perish; but bless the true and brave!
214
And now for the fierce and the heady fight:
Farewell to the scenes of repose and delight!
For my tender Zeineb's soft, dove-like tones,
Must I go to hear Death's harrowing groans?
Farewell to the scenes of repose and delight!
For my tender Zeineb's soft, dove-like tones,
Must I go to hear Death's harrowing groans?
For the liquid smiles of my Zeineb's eye,
Must I view the fierce writhings of agony;
And the gushing forth of the purple flood,
When that agony lessens with loss of blood?
Must I view the fierce writhings of agony;
And the gushing forth of the purple flood,
When that agony lessens with loss of blood?
Oh! thou fairest of Earth's fair, living planets!
Shall thy cheeks—bright, crimson-flowered pomegranates—
Grow pale and dim, at this parting hour?
No, no! let them shame each sister-flower!
Shall thy cheeks—bright, crimson-flowered pomegranates—
Grow pale and dim, at this parting hour?
No, no! let them shame each sister-flower!
No! let not one rose-hue that cheek desert;
Let it rather win from thy glowing heart
More burning tints, and more flushing dyes—
Like a flame, that from some proud pyre doth rise.
Let it rather win from thy glowing heart
More burning tints, and more flushing dyes—
Like a flame, that from some proud pyre doth rise.
215
Go—Daughter of our own glorious land—
Go, bring me my spear with thine own soft hand;
Give me the faulchion, and bear me the shield:
Array thou thy bridegroom for Glory's field!
Go, bring me my spear with thine own soft hand;
Give me the faulchion, and bear me the shield:
Array thou thy bridegroom for Glory's field!
And weep not! but rather in pride rejoice,
If, with Victory pealed from his dying voice,
Afar from the bowers of the blessed Cashmeer
That warrior must die, who so worshipped you there!
If, with Victory pealed from his dying voice,
Afar from the bowers of the blessed Cashmeer
That warrior must die, who so worshipped you there!
| The Village Churchyard | |