IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) "t. 'm;?- ■t WJ, ^"-fii ^. < .l ,_-^:: * ^:l # '. p on 4 SL i D i 4> /•'■J/ '^ Fanny I'VKI.F.F.Ni Looking 13.\ck Riddles SriRiT OF Desire Eli.kna . A Frai.mfn r Au Rf.voir . \ INI) !•: X . Casilfs in the Air • ■ ■ • •vr^rr, 3') 43 55 58 61 63 68 SS 92 pp wm ZEBUNISA v^^ X •&• >L1 ^ '^ i& .^-».f V^ ^2 ran ^^^^3 i^y^Mkl^S^^ vf^SS^ts. ^Sk^ L^ffi^Bff ^v2?t!* 5j^^J5 kJ^^QlV^vI B^^^^inS H^S HHBk« ZEBUXISA. j^^^iF5i LUSH'D with the glow of Ilindostan, .^Vh=^v.' 1 was evening, and with fiery span O'er Shalabargh^'^ the sun had cast ^v&iT' nis crimson ravs, and sunk at List. t^l^V^ And h^tlesbly I h\zy hiy Dreaming the weary hours away, When suddenly my reverie Was broken by a gentle sigh. (7) ^ Zcbiiinsa. All l''.;istcrn beauty, ycAin^i; and fair, All Ilourilikc, was slanding liicrc, And tenderly she gazed on nie, Half Icningly, half bashfully. She sjKjke — I strove lo understand — ]Iut, uilli a smile, she waved iier jiantl. And pointing lo an aged crone, She quietly loosed the silver zone"'^ That fondly clasped her slender waist, And threw it to nie — then, in haste, She beckoned to her, and was gone, Leaving me dazed, and all alone ! And there I lay, well pleased to be The hero of such mystery, For many an hour, until the stars Sho!ie softly through the tall chenars,*'' And all around the fire-flics danced: And still I lay there, half-entranced. Yet listening lo the faintest sound, Impatiently I glanced around, From time to time, in hope to see Some messenger, expectantly. (8) i /T d ^ mm •»/«> f^ /^tbllNtSd, Nor vain the hnpc— the n,c;cd dnme At lcn;;th with cautious foot-fall came, Tlie same that I had seen before, A butidle ill her arms slic bore — A boorgha,' ' and a spacious pair Of silk i)a-jamas,' ' hulics woar, With bangles,"' jhan-irs,'"' hcnna''^ too, And broidcred slippers, gold and blue. She (Pressed me, staining hands and Act- Witii looking glass"' and rings complete; Then led me to the garden gate. Where patiently she bade me wait A moment, while she went to bring 'i'he Ruth,'"' and soon I heard the rin- And tinkle of its bells, that swung Like fringe upon its purdahs stlun^^ She took me by the hand, and made A sign to enter — I obeyed — And getting in as best I could, She followed me, and closctl the hood. (9) eA B 1 1 Zchumsa. On silken cushions soft reclined, To pleasure and my fate resigned, I questioned her — but all in vain — Discretion was her forte, 't was plain ! Her (. crs were the nios.t precise — She told me she had seen me twice, Her mistress, often : but the 7i.>hcn And u^Jicrc she would not mention then. Knourdi, that she intended me To pass for a fair Kashmiri,'") (Wife of a rich Sheiistadar),"-) Who lived quite close to Shalimar,"') And sometimes came to spend the night With her young mistress — very white, And rather tall — so, if Td bend ISIy knees a little, and attend To her directions, all could be. No doubt, conducted secretly. And so wc chatted — and we pass'd The citv gates,' ' and came at last Before a niansion vast and high, With figures painted curiou -ly.''") (•K^M 6A-yi»''' (10) I y Zcbiunsa. Then getting out, my wrinkled guide Wliispered : " T.e careful, try to hide " 'I'hat which you are, as best you can : '• We're done for, if you're guess'd a man." While thus she spoke, a little door/'*'^ Imbedtled in the wall, the more To screen it fiom men's prying gnze. Was opened, and I saw a blaze Of light within, — and by the glare Perceived a servant standing there. Forward with low salaam she came To meet us, while the ancient dame: "Go, warn our mistress that she mav "Receive the lady Dilrooba— "> "Her dreatness''"' follows.'' Then to mc, " Alight, your Highness, carefully — " Permit your slave :" and then, aside, " Pe cautious — neighbours' eves are wide."^"' Passing within, she closed the door Pehind us, and I went before. ^ 'V ^ ■»w^. , —^ a (■■) *■ t-it V. : i fe) (» Zchun'isa, Through a long passage, towards a flight Of stairs, and with a step as light As love could ?iiake it, half in dread Of being discovered, up I sped. Close followed by the crone, aghast, Who panting, — whispered, " Not so fast, " Such haste's against all etiquette, *' 'Tis true there's little danger yet, " You're still a lady \ ^rray be cool, " There's lots of time to play the fcjol " ' Tween this and morning, when you've met " My mistress, — //vn', Sir, don't forget " We may have watchers, follow mc, — "It's rash^ — I hate such levity." And silently she led me through A suite of rooms, where every hue Seemed freshly stolen from summer skies, Rich with the deepest rainbow dyes, Where choicest Persian rugs were spread All strewn with cushions — ruby-red, (12) i Zcbujiisa. Saffron, and pink, and that pale green, That on th3 earhest leaves is seen — And silver lamps their lustre shed In rose-tint light, whilst overhead, And all around, small mirrors"' played Like stars, as countless, myriad-rayed. She paused; before us, white as milk, A purdah swung, of damasque silk: She gently raised it, and we passed Beneath it, — and the die was cast ! For there, before me, beautiful, (The sweetest sHU forbidden fruit is,) Like a ripe peach for love to cull. The loveliest, — Beauty' ■' of the beauties. Sweet Zebunisa, pensively Stood waiting for us anxiously. Her \elvet cheek revealed the flush Of expectation's fiery blush ; Her silvery^ -^ bosom rose and fell, And a/i my love I longed to tell : And raising her soft eyes she made A little sign, that plainly said — (13) K if"^' -*^- J /..•!. <^.'s»V>iJ ■ t i !i t '■ i! I I i- Ztbiiutsa. " Advance " to ;;/ of sandal too, And pawn-dahn,' ' ' filled with spices, threw Their rich pcrfunies' oppressiveness, And, reeling with the sweet excess, Soft on an amber silU resai''' Entranced we sank v duptuously. She stru^2j,c;led faintly, half dciMed, — Then sighing turned her head aside ; I watched her swinnning eyes, and caught The secret of each longing thought, Each amorous wish that wildly sped. And wooed it ere it blushing fled — • With burning kisses — she replied With answering kisses, and untied Her ungeya^ '^ for my lips to rove The globes of all a world of love. r5r^ ( 15) hil.- .ii^):$3 ii 11 !!l|l ' t!i(' ^.m. 'jj'~ii.\:^ riuio \\,is innvit-. .m.I in,in\ .1 (lii!\ Slio \irMccl to Knr .iiivi lo iiu\ Ami / ,m:.-./ /.•'.' _i.v.- lit kli'ssix . lu.nliv. Pclitioiisiv. i].;ni;rioiu>lu~s dowiuv.ud {\o\u 1um\oii, So nicniovv iLisiu's ; \ot \\i\ I'cin;; onvtlilw irt.\in Inil [\\c \c.\\cu \'h.\{ lo.wons lovo's iniliiitv. r< -^ ( KS) >fC ifr ?. ;f MOKMNCi ^.^ ^i y ■;< C^^^;^ AS III-,!) np I.y tlir; sf.i, ^(f 3,f 'j|^' A |.. .Ill so raic, r>ri;^]it ()\] licr l)i(;;ist A ct OSS of <.'oI(l : Tassioii's Lclicsl WIio shall w\(<>U\ ? (19) d -.'. i.-:,i ;l ^•*' Morning. l?In m{ % r ! ' I I ! Snatched from lier sleep, Jiife's Kneliness, Cast to the deep In Iicr niglu dress. 'J'he cross of ^old Is her burial fee ; Jler story told, Washed up by tiic Sea r? \L€^^, Jt-x-- ^m (20) I^i UP IN THE HILLS. P to the hills, with a gallop relay, From the siiltrv heat and the "lire Of the listless, wearisome Kastern clay, Where lip-htly we flirt the hours away, Forgetting our duns, as best wc may, With the Anjrlo-Indian fair* Up in the hills, where the ladies tell Of the charms of a married life, (21) fiS>^' --e^ Wo ^ % i hi i! 1: i I |i ' i! ! u-(.cv^r-i •^^y 1-— ^ \ ^t- rp III the Hills. As llicy whisper low lo sonic youthful swell, \\\\\\. ;i cruel hardship it is lo dwell Al)art fiom the husband they love so well, When thcv act the loxiuLr wife. Where \ou hang on a jiuipaii '■' and walk aloni; ]Jy ihc sitle of yoiir lovely one ; And vou smile at the cuckoo's curious sonii, \s you wander by twilight the woods anions;-, 'I'ho' of course you don't think of anything wrong, liut it is so loiuiy alone. And you get quite spooney, and half forget 'i'hat }our Leave is nearly over, And with amorous warmth you're ready to bet iShe's by far the prettiest woman you've met, Ar,d for brooches and bracelets you run in debt, For thev're fond of a generous lover. And you look in her languishing hazel eyes. As many will do again ; And you long to believe her your own sweet prize. And somehow you can't : but you don't despise, I'or you know you can't love and still be wise. So strive to slille the pain. (22) n 1 '^A'v^W. ^\'itIl lluilliii;;' ]")rcssui<.' your h>iiul is jvA'->t. And ni;iybc Iicr lips you ki.-.s : I'/Ul he it rciiicnihcrcd, 'lis only in i''st — A i)loasing excitement, wilii some 111 tie zest ; I wouUrnt for worlds even liint at the rest, And sinrlv there's notliin'j; in this. ]5ul the dreatled day at last arrives, And you part — perhaj^s for evir! And vou bid adieu to these motlel wives, While your heart with reason for mastery stri\es. And in truth or filschood its tale contri\es Of the //•///// .' yut a dying gleam mid the lines of fn///i. (24) J^-e m jm •X.M' THE AMULET. T was many and many a mile away, In a far-off Isasteni clime ; It was many and many a year ago, But memory laughs at time : For it seems to mc it was yesterday, And I can't get rid of the spell, She came in the still pale moonlight, I remember vividly well. (25) R i 1'^ 1,1 :! \i\ m ll I !. •)n I' i " .i! 1 1 It P T/ie Amulet. We met by a ruined temple In that far-off Eastern land, And she led me away to her mistress, To the loveliest love of the band. To the weariest bird of a dozen. The sweetest of Moslem ladies, Along thro' the hushed Zenana, Tho' love's approach forbade is. Beneath the latticed v xdows, Where many a lascive one Lay restless on a silkeu bed, Neglected and alone. The moon rode high in the heavens, And I cursed its glorious gleam. Like a shower of gold to betray us. Till everything seemed a dream. The stars like rubies glistened In a sea of sapphire set. And the bulbul hymned as we listened, When she gave me this amulet. (26) The Amulet, It is only a word in Persian, Engraved on an emerald square, With a hole drilled through at one corner But it hangs by a Houri's hair; And the secret written upon it Is the simple secret— Dare ! \ : 1. 'fl i [ : (27) '11 I 1 1 ' I If if I ivt Ml t ,; iii % M >?^'^ LONGING. SWEET the dreams that wandering fancy brings, Soft whispering of the love we long to gain ; And sweetly sad the wildly tearless pain Of hope all hopeless, as its memory clings With lingering love, and bears us back again Midst well-remembered scenes, or softly sings, With thoughtful music warbling the refrain Of some light, loving love-song that we've heard In other happier days, ere reason weiglis a word. (28) ^ , 3 ^ -'■^\b ■onging. Sweet are the tender wishes that we feel, Fair Idylls, bubbling up from hidden wells Of purest loving ecstacy that swells In noble natures toward the grand ideal Of lovely woman's lovefulness, and tells Of all the exhaustive struggle to conceal An ardent temperamer ., where mind excels, And hungering still for love, disdains to mate With love of lesser range, though life pass desolate. And sweet the bright foreshadowings of the hour, When youthful ardor builds a glittering stair Of golden resolutions, viewing there, Queen over all, the lovely one whose power. Like angel counsel, leads us on to dare The slippery, steep ascent, and cull tbe flower, Life's choicest blossom, hanging in mid air Of mingled passionate love and saintly fire, Herself the blushing bud — the a//, a sonFs desire. But sweeter, sweet the spell, — O sweeter far The exquisite delirium that flows In thrilling soft persuasiveness, and grows Insensibly to fairest dreams, that are (29) I! 1 "''.'.,, T5^ '"""""^/rj : t M>; Longing. All but reality — as slumber throws Its pitying veil o'er all the doubts that mar Our waking vision, with fond passion's throes, Of alternating hope and fear which dwcU Ever in truest hearts, that learn to love too well. For O, 'tis slumbering thus we clasp the prize, Draining love's quintessence of bliss, and cling With maddening kisses to her lips, and wring A wild consent from soft relenting eyes And sigh-linked syllables, to everything — To all our hopes of earthly paradise — To wildest wishes — till the dream takes wing, And waking suddenly, our fancy hails Love's swift fulfilment near, as wavering hope prevails. (30) ANONYMA. FOR the light of those eyes when the veined lids tremble and quiver, Moist with the murder of sleep, all its sensuous exquisite pains ; Born of longings and lusts, as they surge and and swell to the river. The river that glides and glistens, glitters and gilds, and stains. O ! for the kiss-cut lips, blood-bathed with the blood of her lovers, (31) ^ hi I I I .!•; '' k T 'lis 1 i;:|f 1. I,! 'II 'i' I 1 !i> ' III I )i^; r I, Anonyma, Rich, and luscious, and red, the fountain of death and of life; Robed in the mantle of gold, that sin's manifold multitude covers, Seamed and stitched with tears, sans girdle of maiden or wife. O ! for the weird wild thrill, the soul-sucked kisses of passion, The rustle of silk and of starch, crushed close in the clutch of delight; AVhen the [trembling fingers entwine, 'mid the temptress flounces of fashion. When the loved one flushes and pales, and burns in her beautiful might. Fill high, let us drink to our love — wine wrung from the vintage of pleasure — See how it bubbles and brims, let us carry the cup while we may; Let us mingle each pearl we possess, each jewel of price as a treasure. For sufficient the evil of life, sufficient the debt to the day. ^ S (sSMi^ ''^l^^-'* s^^^^i^ (^^-^5 r< ■ ' .flb 1^ 4\» "j-^fof*, And sipped the glowini^ cup of pleasure, Awfi^* ^^'"^cl proved the follv maiiv a time ■"Bf^l Of loving to repent at leisure. "Ha ^'i'^^ I've seen the fairest iMialish maido, With azure eyes and golden tresses, And lingered midst the sunny glades, Where Italy the grape expresses. (33) .' ^ \ .\-: f'! . ■•^-'r-.r 'I ll' ' •' '1,1 '■ I IS ' .j '1 1 li ii 1 1 1 j 1 !• 1 ! i' La r>clli Canadicnnc. '^1 The lo^cl}' ones of Spain and I''ranco, Circassian, Russian, (Icrniui hulics; V\c seen tir lvj,vptian Alnies' dance, Caslmiere, where nunv a beauteous nnid i.^ And nieni'ry soon lec.dls the j)ast, Kach tender scene in L;roves Arcadian, And waiid'rinLT fanrv's fixed at hist, 'i'he hjveliest maid's a. fair Canat, Till a magic power the heart confesses. Ihiraoiured with her easv vrace, The poetry of e\ery motion, Von raise vour eves to see her f ice, And loudly vow a life's devotion ; (34) >C'-.^u. La r>clu' Cauadicnnc. \\'liiK\ swift as slie returns tlie glance, \'our senses reel in l)!iss Mlvslaii. She s the (hii-kl\- hciuid i yes of Fianee, And seems lobe a fih- rari.sun. And wli'jn, in cosily furs arrnved, She skims aloni;- the fro/un v;a'er>. Or sofdy \vhi>[-n'rs, not afiMid, W'idi sihcrv hui-h of laii^land's eau'diters, As down the slippery cone }'ou spetd, Oh, ivJto can paiiU the ihri'.lin:;- plea^iue ? Whilst soldier like you dare the ([k.'<:A^ And boldlv kiss vrar blu.sliii^,^- treasure. The graceful stren-tli of Ru sian bellcs, Their pliant form and nob!e beaiini;-, Canadian lox'ciiness excels, And Well shj l)\es a tale of (kiriji'^. Iler throbbing bosom heaves, and then — With parted lips and nu'Idn^ glances She pleads to hear it o'er again, In language that the .k'.v/ cntran.ces. (35) "J- -■--/■' v '. ' V ■» ■^ •I',; llil'!' 'i iM illlilll 'i|!i' :|li: ,!;i ' lih Ill, sir I'll ifiH'^ Ml, I ; ^t-M:^ 7.^?- /'^7/t' Canadicfiiic. So llio' I've travelled many a mile, Aiul met with manv charmiiiir beauties, And fancied that I lo\'ed the while, Nor gave a thought to married duties ; There's onlyrW<' I truly love, \\'iih purest love of style Amadian,* And 'gainst a thousand Knights I'll prove, She's loveliest and a fair Canadian. Amadis dc n.uil. \. (36) 7 ^f,'\H> ^^5 ^^ ^SJSl ^^t^ a^^i^ k^^^^^^ t* .r THE SHELL GATHERERS. ^STROLLED on tlie sands at sunset, vXT?*!^ Away by the Western sea, ;^5J|=y,*« And I was aware of a striplinfr there •*^^|/ Gathering sliells witli a wistful care ; ^^i^N^ He picked them up and he washed thcni fair Then threw them away with a weary air, And behold ! he resembled me. He seemed to seek some spell or power, Some wondrous shell unknown : (37) i \ ^:U H \ ! 1^' I 1 I 1 i T It Ii ;^f i i ?': 1' ii 1 1 '1 ' B' 'i 1 1 |j i:; isti- 1' 1 f f' i '''i 1' . 1 ^'' 1 ii • ' 1 1 I: i'!i J ii 1' ' Bill § il3j ^ r 1 \.^,rA\ I 1 •yys; :'i 1 \'l fl 11 1 t\ i! !'• : ! ; tii;i i I' ;i 1 1 ?!i!i I: I Ml The Shell Gatherers. For they looked so bright, so pearly while, They glittered and gleamed, and dazzled the si^ht, Methought they were sure of the lad's delight ; But still with a sigh at the closing night, He sought this only one. I strolled again by those silver sand:*, AVhen moonlight kissed the wave, And years had sped and hope had fled, And life was unaccomplished, I saw a weary man that led The self same search ; for love was dead, And buried in the far-off Eastern lands. (38) 'i? If li FANNY. f HE passed me by as a duty, With her soft eyes bent on the ground, Mf^^ ^'et she Hngered near in her beauty, Y/W'f> ^'"consciously probing the wound ; I 'fii Perhaps she may not remember- Perhaps 'twas a dream of mine ; 'Twas Tuesday the loth of December, 'I'was a dream amid music and wine. (39) -^^'4- h\ m !t . m % ■ill ! ,-1 ' l! I. ill ■I' I- 'I ' 'HIS ■ 'M, :, I If! !' iiliPi ||il t' ;..if. '"11 !,'!"! :■ r -I •'/> •H>?-"3^^ "^^: ;^4t^ fanny I long to think she perceived me, And sought but to rivet the chain : That she doubted, yet wished to believe nie And I thought so again and again ; I [er exquisite bosom seemed heaving With fancies she strove to repress — And, passion its fairy tale weaving, I'd have died for a single caress. Alas ! she may deem me conceited, Nor pardon me telling my dream, But think ! by such memories heated Can a lover refrain from the theme ? 'Twas hope, like a beacon — flame lighted, That gleamed o'er love's treacherous sea j 'Twas a ha\ en of happiness sighted, 'Twas a vision of heaven to me. How I hung on each sentence she uttered, Translating its meaning and tone ; Like a school-girl's, my rebel heart tluttered- I adored ! and believed her my own. (40) 1.; n , (v^ ^ Fanny . 'Twas a joy too ecstatic for reason, So sweet/ I perceived 'twas a sell — 'Twas love's wildest — love's last diapason, Every note now re-echoes farewell. (41) ^y Ml fi C li !: I 1; ! H m fw ■75^ w I'li ill;. !i i(. I-' ! 'Hit" :l;';'l.' rill 'i|.' I 1 MT ' i*:; I If II !|l! •— ♦ |0- t EVELEEN. ITHIN the fertile province of Tyrhoot, iWhere the indigo-fields give richest fruit, Where the air hangs faint with the mixt perfume Of a myriad wond'rous flowers in bloom ; Where the tiger lurks 'neath the palm-trees' shade 'Mid the jungle-grass where the deer have strayed, Awaiting his prey — like a slighted fair Cruelly calm, in his hidden lair ; (42) K>v. J>. A ft I Eve/een. In eighteen hundred and fifty-seven, When the rebels had sworn by earth and heaven, Not to leave a Feringhee^^''^ in Hindostan, When the fiends were loose and thronged to the van, And the vulture screeched with a warning cry. And the crows cawed answer in revelry, As they scented the carcases, black or white. Foredoomed to their ravenous appetite : With hot flushed cheek, and flashing eye, A horseman wildly galloped by ; Both horse and man seemed sadly spent, Both blood-besmeared, — yet on they went. Sternly he rode some mile or so. Swaying in faintness to and fi-o. Then, reeling as with sudden wound. Fell senseless, death-like to the ground ; Instant, the Arab checked his bound. Sudden he reared and snapt the rein, — Sniffed, pawed, and snorting, sniffed again ; A moment stood with listening ear. Then headlong dashed away in fear. Round and round in a mad career. (43) H! u ^ !■ t| t i ":!i I ill/' m i itl! i;-'; I' ill ' ' ^^li m:" ■III I. ■^> GO EiJeen. Then, tired, with outstretched neck drew near And sniffed once more, — his instinct knew 'Twas the sleep of Hfe he slept : Like a faithfid servant, tried and true, A weary watch he kept. But he bit at the grass with famished bite. And he neighed as tho' in pain ; And he Hcked up the dew with a fierce delight. Then shrilly neighed again. And his master's eyelids quivered, and then Slowly opened and closed again ; For he dreamt of the morning's frenzied strife, Of the hot pursuit, as he rode for life — Cutting and slashing furiously Thro' the rebel band that barred his way ; And the moon rose calm and silvery. And again he woke — but could it be ? The thought was wildering ecstacy ! He strove to speak, but her finger-tips Pressed lightly on his fevered lips : He strove to rise, but all in vain, He only fainted away with the pain, (44) k «'l , HHiij k^ Eve/ecu, And there he lay, beneath the spell Of eyes, — alas ! remembered well, Of gentle eyes that filled with tears To find him thus, — unseen for years. She dashed the diamond drops away With one long sigh to memory. And wistfully her satin hand Clasped on his pulse, his features scanned — She shuddered, and her looks revealed Love answering love, till then concealed. She'd nurse him with a sister's care, Oh ! could she leave him dying there ? And she called her servants and they made A litter of shawls, and in it laid They raised him gently, — a leaden load, And bore him away to their lord's abode. And they laid him on a silken bed, They scarce knew whether alive or dead. And the night-wind sighed 'mid the jasmine bowers. And the bulbul hymned thro' the midnight hours, And the golden light came over the hill. And ever they found her, watching still. « * (45) V, ifl li !J li I 'ifi 1 m •y i i'i : I It I ■ \i IP i^til I Ha I 1' It! Ill i'T r : 'I! I • e ^ Eveleen, She nursed him, oh ! so tenderly, And nearly a month had glided b^ Nearly a month, and ne'er a kiss. Nearly a month of torturing bliss, They gazed into each other's eyes. And wished and longed and yet were wise. She tried to think of her absent lord — And thought, — Is virtue its own reward ? She tried to think of her marriage-vow, And so 'twas ever, then as now. r * 'Tis evening, and the stars look down On the scorched-up grass, so short and brown. They shine on the far-off hills of snow, On the stately cedars, row in row. On the groves of orange, and mangoe-trees, Scarcely stirred by the sultry breeze : They mirror themselves inHhe porphyry stone Of a dainty dwelling that stands alone ; They glean-, on its domes, where the gold once shonej On its mass'.ve pillars, with moss o'ergrown, (It had served as a palace in ages gone,) (46) 1 "«? \i\1.M. t t L Eveleen, And there, where the clustering garden-vines Cast deepest shadow, a youth reclines. And he gazes upward, but not to heaven, To a daughter of earth his j-^///is given, And he gazes long, ind passionately, And the daylight fades luxuriously; He gazes till her lovely eyes Grow wet with the love her vow denies. And he rises from his flowery bed, And her breath comes quick with a sudden dread,- She knew it; —yet 'twas half unknown, She loves, — and they are all alone. Like a Houri, fresh from her love's caress. She stood there in her loveliness ; Did she think of aught but her lover then ? She loved, and war adored again. She had yielded ; Oh ! with a wild delight, She had yielded all, in the dim twilight, And her soft eyes swam with sensuousness. And she dreamt of her sinful happiness. Her velvet cheek, so flushed and pale, Reflected passion's fiery trail ; (47) ! ■ \k if f (1 i» •.A : n lilp'i 1:^ ii|||v «p A Evelcen, Her lips were wreathed with a conscious smile, And his arm was round her waist the while : He toyed with her long dark silky hair, But he ate of the fruit such love must bear. His wounds are healed, and honor calls, He must join the force 'neath Delhi's walls. He lingered, and oh ! he longed to stay, And the days like seconds sped away. Each night he vowed should prove the last, He dared not tell her — and it passed. He He ^ ^ '(< ^ JJh 3|C 'JC rfs *^ «jC A horse stands saddled in the stall, A sabre's clank rings thro' the hall : He strains her fainting to his breast. With all her passionate love confest. And her tears fall fast as summer rain, — They know they may never meet again. And oh ! the maddening agony. The clinging kiss, the fond delay Of eyes that swam beseechingly. And wished, yet could not, would not stay. (48) •^ k «0«*-^ "tt?^ . iftiiiL is A 9fp EvciccH. She had not loved him as she loved Had she besought him unrcproved ; She knew her power, nor spared the test, He wavers, — mounts — she feels 'tis best. But hark ! that shout,— 'tis borne afar, It sighs on the wind with a wail of war. Mingled with fiendish, vengeful yells, Again, and yet again it swells. Hark ! 'tis the tomtom V''^ rallying sound : Retreating rebels hover round. Hark ! to that yelp, for it rises near In the broad daylight distinct and clear, — 'Tis the jackal's bark, and over the plain They scurry in packs to the field of slain. She listens, — can she feel no dread? Are all her thoughts to terror dead? She listens — 'tis with thrilling joy — He cannot leave her now alone. Death only can their bliss destroy, His honor and his love are one, Noiv he is doubly all her own. * >K * :j« * * * * :K * (49) 1 t 1 1 l' 'TT m 0>O y Evvlccn. 'I'luMo is ;i soiiml o{ revelry and din, l''oi" S.it.m holds I)iL;h caniiv.d of sin ; Within the citv walls the tDirlu's j;lare, The /ilais^'^* rini;, and tomtoms rend the air, Wiiilst hharg^'"' and noise and nantcii gills ^'''\!eaden dull despair. l'"ven the i-old moon has risen reilly raic, WhiliMiing the plain th' avenging raidvs arc seen ; Mark sow that sentinel patrollinii there? Hear yon the mnttered cnrsc his lips between? See iiow he stops, and frowning counts the hair/^ And kisses reverently the tangled sheen, Vet iioKlen, as the moonravs intervene ! (^h ! but the scenes thus eonjured up arc more Than human heart can credit ; — and the tear "Wrung fiom the war-worn soldier, as he treads His weary watch, foretells the reckoning dear, The doom decreeil for many a mutineer! Fast as the uilmi fall in, the whisper spreads, And sword an^l bayonet reek with slaughter for Cawnpore, List to the whirr, the hissing and the roar Of shot and shell on deadlv errand sent ! (50) '•0 Q.^ » %:^- t C)^,v «?*• ''>> Ilvclccn. I-islcn .np;,iin— 'tis answered hy a siioro, JJornc by llu! inidni^'Iil hicc/c fiom yonder tent. 'Tis tlicrc the lovin;; lord aiul lawful Ijore, (And yet withal a very worthy mm) I'air Kvelecn's hushand, sleeps indifferent. Look on his lorni ! 'lis f.ishion(Ml on tiie plan Of some vast temple, hut the ^od witiiin Is comn.on wood ; nor m idd'ninf; love nor sin Can change the block to godhead. He was one (Their name is legion j only bom to die, For passion never signed llu; gift of life. He liked her well— perhaps a trifle more Than even his dinner ; but the name of wife Expressed to him no sweeter mystery. 'Twas not his fault ; but then, alas ! was she Quite inexcusable, thus left alone, Alone with love and oj)poriunity } He teased her, as such maudlin mortals can, With kisses that are only half a kiss, Then marvelled at the coldness of her mien. Was she, love's loveliest rose to suffer this, Nor scorn the drone that knew not how to steal The secret honey from love's cave of bliss? (50 ft O '1 ■ *1 'I ■ III- fifiim' 5 A r Eveleen, Could she to such a one her soul reveal ? Our Saviour pardoned Mary Magdalene : He pardoned her, for she had loved much. Behold ! the mysteries of love shall touch The gold of Ophir seven times refined, By exquisite pain and pleasure intertwined, Till sin I ccometh virtue ; and the mind, Weaned from all selfishness shall compass: things Beyond the saints' most blest imaginings. Pray for her soul, nor judge her hastily ; She sinned, she suffered, and her story brings, This moral with love's wishful wanderings. Shot by her lover's hand, lest she should be Reserved for worse than death's swift agony — Clasped by his circling arm, she drooped and fell Think you she gained the fields of Asphodel ? Lost in one last embrace, she died in bliss ; 'Twas hard to die, but sweet to die like this. She had lived too long, having tasted of the wine Pressed from the grape of passion, all divine; Ye would have dashed the poisoned cup away — She drained it to the dregs in ecstasy — ^^^0 (52) L c >y » e •r< " Y Eveleen. Doubtless she pays sweet pleasure's penalty. And yet, perchance, in heaven was found a place For yet another beauty in disgrace — A very woman, with an angel's face. * * * * * Tie mounted in haste and he leapt the wall : In a last wild charge 'twere best to fall. He could not endure the lingering fight The assailants waged in their cowardly might. Fiercely he rode, in bitterness — The wond was all a wilderness — What cared he now for life or f;ime ? For love / — 'tucre but an an empty name. Madly he fought ; with cut and thrust, The astounded rebels bit the dust. His sword swung red as the setting sun — They deemed his life was a charmed one ; Their bullets whizzed with a frantic aim, At last the billeted bullet came. They mangled the horse in their devilish whim. They hacked his rider, limb from limb ; They fued the place, and the smoke was seen, (53) I ' ■^ WTO •^ %' I ! ii > I N ti ii m Evclccn. For miles around, — through the air serene. The flames shot upward, straight and strong, The blackened ruins smouldered long ; They looted and killed, hut an ayah'^'^ fled To a village near, so the story spread. HJ * * 'h * The husband heard it, and vowed to kill Eolh old and young for this deed of ill, To spare in his wrath neither woman nor child: 'Twas thus he vowed in his fury wild. IJut he knew not all ; — he was spared the sting. As a drowning man to a straw will cling, He believed her tnic^ for he wished her so. And the tale was vague — It is long ago. He was buried in honour on Delhi's plain, Around him a score of the rebel slain — 7//cV> bones lie bleaching; in sun and rain. (54) CASTLES IxN THE AIR. ^- N the heyday of youth, ?■> When our tlioughts are free of care ; ^^w(* ^^'Iit^» life is all so rosy, ■^^^v Richly racy, debonair ; ^1==^' Golden fancies sway the mind, And we long to do and dare, Whilst we dream of love and beauty, Euilding " Castles in the Air." And when manhood sets its seal On the careless and the gay, Tho' perchance we sigh for moments That have lightly sped away ; |o (55) !l ! ih fl '' l^ l.^ Castles in the Air. 'Tis ambition rules us then, With its fitful lurid glare, And we puff our mild Havana, Building " Castles in the Air.'' Tho' fondest hopes are blighted, And misfortunes follow fast, Tho' experience teaches lessons. That we sadly learn at last ; Tho' we think that all is over, Yet we never quite despair, And we seek for consolation. Building "Castles in the Air." For in this world of ours, Were each lovely woman true. Were every wish a certainty. We'd look for nothing new ; And tho' reason says tis folly. Yet 'tis bliss beyond compare, And the wisest, best, and truest. Oft build "Castles in the Air." (56) * i Castles in tJie Air. Let sages preach against it In language calmly cold, 'Tis the old old story, That's always being told ; We can scarcely take advice, Tho' we're cheated everywhere. Still we seek a fleeting pleasure, Building " Castles in the Air." Yet when death is drawing near. Let us dream of future bliss : And its darkest terrors vanish. For a fairer world than this Softly opes its crystal portals. While the silent power of prayer Wafts our spirit to its Castles Everlasting in the Air. (57) Vi» III K LOOKING BACK. m j VER the earth, and over the sea, My thoughts are flitting painfully, Far and away beneath the spell Of lustrous eyes remembered well ; And all around there seems to be A nameless kind of minstrelsy — Some whispered thought, but half expressed, Or murmured longing imconfessed, Dreams of what 7aas, or w/V/// /lavc bcen^ Dimly in memory's mirror seen ; (58) T Looking Back, In all the glorious gleam of youth, In all its ardor, hope, and truth. Ere cold experience rules the mind, Nor leaves but withering hearts behind ; Hearts that once loving, only see A lifelong cursed satiety. Whilst phantoms of, the joyous past. Silently, sadly, fleeting fast, AVith icy fingers pointing show The whirlwinds of the wind we sow. # Yet all is fair and beautiful. And the calm silence of the summer eve Steals softly o'er each sense, and seems to lull The heart that lately, only throbbed to grieve. Reminding that the sweetest hope we cull From beauty's glances, is but to believe Each hidden charm perfection, and the rays Of swift intelligence from liquid eyes. But sunny messengers of endless days — And nights of an exhaustless paradise Of secret wishes, and as quick replies, Tho' not in words ; but by the electric power (59) T Looking Back. Of mutual ecstasy ; when soul meets soul, And winging heavenward, in a single hour. Tastes purer joys than centuries can give To grosser natures ; though the tempest lour And years of undreamed agony may roll, Fierce on the track of pleasure ; and we live Th' ecstatic moments o'er, and realize Th' enthralling visions of the few who find In that fair inner-world by fancy formed, A balm for disappointments, and despise Those petty meannesses of humankind, Life's lukewarm Syrens, by no passion warmed, Save calculating selfishness or lust That lured our boyish ardor ; and the rust And soilure of such loving wears away, Leaving but tempered steel, of truer, brighter ray. (60) i- [ RIDDLES. HAT is love ? and what is glory ? Are they nothing but a name ? Fitting subjects of a story, Ever endlessly the same. Do we love, or love or peril For its pleasure or its gain > Or some wild unreal ideal. That we seek on earth in vain ? (6i) -;g#. !^^ f! ,1 < I U 'i ' RiddUs, Tlius each care I strove to cancel, As I smoked my lone cigar, Dreaming deep of dame and damsel. Loved and /efi in lands afar. Hut the song my soul was singing, Sounded a funereal hymn. Passion's belt of pearl unstringing, And my eyes with tears were dim ; Whispering softly, passing onward. Life's refrain, " /"/ might have been" And remembrance travelled sunward. With {\\Q ghost of youth between. 1 THE SPIRIT OF DESIRE. ,N a castle of the air, Bailded up with toil and care, ^-. Lay the Spirit of Desire, And his feet were shod with fire. And his hands were filled with flowers, Tokens from his paramours. Tokens sweet of other time. Lawless lust and love sublime. Withered thoughts of every clime ; (63) ^^ Mi ri I The Spirit of Desire. Many a flower, rich and rare, Lud and blossom, both were there, '•'icd about witli women's hair. C'ame a lady unto him, And her eyes with tears were dim, And her voice fell very weak, Very musical and meek ; " O my darling, do your will, " Be our love for good or ill ; " I have prayed and I have wept, " But my passion hath not slept ; " I have striven to be good, " I was e'er misunderstood ; " I am sold for gold, and fee, " 'Twas the price of my beauty, " O my darling, pity me. " Then Desire answered her : " O, my sweetest, I prefer, " To the joys of the elect, " That you lead me to expect. " I have waited long to win : " O, my sweetest, is it sin, (64) "^ 5V2r^ ' The Spirit of Desire. " Wlicn love mectcth with his twin ? " U was ordered so above : " Christ will pardon you } our love : " Is there any liarm therein ? " Thus he whispered thro' the ni^ht As they revelled in delight ; So she made a pact with vice, To exhaust each sweet caprice Each delicious mode of strife, Known to maiden or to wife, Till he said : " Satiety Is the curse that clings to me, O beloved set me free. " Sighing softly, she replied : " Can you bear to be denied, '" ^^'ill you still believe me true, "Loving only, only j-ou ? " Am I not another's bride ? "Yet you are not satisfied. " I am envied by the poor ; " Did they know what I endure, " I would fain be cold and pure ; (65) 1 'V J I TJie Spirit of Desire. '* r>ul alas ! it may not be, " For my breath is hot with bliss : " r could kiss, and kiss, and kiss, " There is nothing like to this. " I have hungered for your love, " And a snare about you wove, " That you never more might rove. " Then the Spirit of Desire, With his reason did enquire. Loosed his shoes of burning fire. And his visage all aflame. Like a little child's became. And he took another name ; And his heart waxed very sore. For the ill he wrought before, And he vowed to rove no more. But alas, the lady fair Could not follow everywhere, Thouiih she drew him bv a hair. Could not follow in the flight Of his passion toward the light ; Could not sail the wintry sea (66) ( -*^ £ The Spirit of Desire. Of his soul's perplexity, Of his life's adversity. So he took his shoes again From the place where they had lain, And he girded up his heart With an iron mask of art. So he waits eternity, All alone, — in slavery. ~y^ w\ 'p KLLEXA ^/-VER tlic mountains— far away Where the Minal'' '^ gleam, and the Ibex"^' stray, Over the snows where the lofiy Pir''^ Smiles o'er the valley '^fsoft Kashmir. Where lover-like, icie-t torrents flow. Impatient to woo the fiail (lowers below, As phishing from rock to rock \\ cy toss, Scattering foam on the velvet moss, In pearls and diamonds, careless strewn 'Mid richest blocks of emerald stone. 4fi^ (C-S; .5 A* ».-u /i o\4 Elhhia. Where the lotus "-Milies sleep upon Tlie grave of many a lovely one, Where the tall chenar^'^ trees of fliir Xaseem"'> ^l^\\<^ listened to many a tender dream, Told by youthful lips and eyes, 'i'hinkinrr earth was Paradise. Many a dainty female slave, And sweet Sultann, there reclining, Has idly watched the rippling wav^,' All tearfully her doom"^) divining.' Dove-eyed damosels, once enshrhied In the fairy towers so faintly seen, 'Midst waving bowers of jasmine twined O'er the glittering isles that float betwee-.. Dreamlike the ruined palace stands, Light laughter sails on the passing wind, And tiny feet on its golden sands " Their faint impressions leave behind. Where the sim-badan^^'^ Kashmirian maids Still throng the roses's^'") festival, O lovely as the loveliest shades That flit through the far famed Peri Mahal/'"* I'; I rr^ •^^m "tn I Elh^iia, # * * * * # * * ^■ * * # And round our camp fire's ruddy light We gathered, and with tale and jest Sped far into the summer night, Nor crave a thouiiht to needful rest ; Tho' many a trophy strewed the ground, Good proof our shots a billet found In Markor/'') Bear, or B .rah-Singh,^"^) Or wild Chikor '■'''> of gorgeous wing. T'was thus— we'd all the changes rung, Some told a talc, and some had sung A song of some sort, — all but one ! Our wildest one, and him we pressed With laughing threats to tell us where, So free of heart and debonair He'd come by such a mournful air, That now, when all so cheery shone He held aloof, so quiet grown, All silent, as a ghostly guest: And looking up he seemed to smile. But yet t'was half a frown the while. (70) w Ml o.V EUc'iia. And answering quickly, — "Arc you llicn " Such hoys^ as not to know that men " Have hidden thoughts tliat seem to prey " For cTa\ nor will wear away." He turned, — we listening for a span Bewildered, — as he thus began. ****** ***** i* " In that sweet land, where love is worshipped still Thro' every phantasy of good and ill, Where still he reigns a God^ indeed sublime, The first-born darling of the bounteous clime ; Where lovers' philtres work a magic spell And all is partly heaven and partly hell, In sunny Spain, where wild romance can fling Its secret charm o'er guilt's remorseful sting, Where yd the amorous youth may take his fill Of burning lust, to danger's madd'ning thrill, And drain the essence of each earthly bliss, Condensing all in love's long clinging kiss. ****** In that soft land when Se\illc's vine Blushed purple with its ruby wine, (70 i i ill ,it iSi iHi f i i: 1 :H I: i M ,1 " »■>♦ When ilio orange gardens bieathed perfume, Aiid (he moonlight fell with glancing ray, 'Mid the faiiesl flowers of early bloom, In glistening beams caressingly ; When I was young — and not as now Of haggard look, and wrinkling brow. v\nd tho' long years have rolled away, It seems to mc but yesterday, An'] still as even's single star Shines sentinel, so lonely light I'"ond passion thrills to hope afar, Low whispering thro' the night, And every breeze, that murmurs by. Seems one long, soft, voluptuous sigh. One of those lingering sighs that press From the full heart, its tenderness, And wishes, all to memory given, Too sweet for earth, too wild for heaven. Surge slowly past in wandering (rain. Singing the old soncrs o'er again : 'Twas just that hour before the night Steals upon sunset's amber light, (72) \ ^-0 i ^e^ Hlh iia. When the vesper hymn ascends on liigli In all devotion's ecstasy. When mortal joys and liope dl\ine With mingling ardor half entwine, And, borne away on fancy's wings, We yield us to the dreams she brin-s And I lay by my window— wide for air— And I felt that another day had gone, But fote sat weaving a subtle snare Swiftly, patiently, richly rare. And sudden, silently standing there 1 saw her— Seville's loveliest one. Palely, sadly, sweetly fair, One of those faces that we see, And dream of to eternity, Loving with love's intensity. '^ * * * * And I looked and longed, as we do in youth, W^hen our hearts are true and our vows are truth, And I looked and loved, but I could not see She had even a transient smile for me. But she stood at her open lattice, and there Leant over the sill with a thoughtful air, ^1 111 m 'It II f "^=^w Ellt!na. Nor glanced to the right, nor glanced to the left, But fixed on the pavement her soft eyes kept, WJiile her white hand toyed with the golden chain Of a golden type of our Saviour's pain, And it glistened and gleamed as it rose and fell Storm-tossed, with her bosom's voluptuous swell. And I ventured to strike a chord or two Of one of the tenderest airs I knew. And I practised many a loving wile. Till at last she looked, yet never a smile. Ijut suddenly — leaving the chain alone The soul of her queen-like beauty shone Love-flusht in her eyes, as she raised them then For a moment, and cast them down again In deepest thought, and her color came And went, widi a flickering hectic flame. Like fire in alabaster placed, When its burning light is scarcely traced. * * * But she closed the lattice, and still I stood, And wondering mused on her pensive mood, (-4) f -^^^ •Si ElU'na. And the buirs shone out o'er the silent town, And the twih'ght faded, and night came down. And the murmur of voices died away In the darkening distance gradually ; And the moon rose slowly, and lightly streamed On the tall Cathedral spires, that seemed Like the burnished masts of beaten gold Of ships in the Eastern fables old. And the fleecy clouds were the silken sails Unfurled to thj breath of its perfumed gales. And the street seemed deserted— only one, A man in a cloak came by, alone, In a long dark cloak, such as lovers wear When they steal by niglit to some lady fair : And I heeded him not till I saw him take A key from his pocket, and swiftly make For the opposite mansion, and cast a look Down the silent street— then I also took A wondering glance, and perceived a door In the garden wall, unseen before, And he opened it quickly and turned the key, As he closed it after him noiselessly. 3 i'f'' Ci!; ElUna. * Jic Jf{ :|< Ji« * •K '{» ^ 5iJ 5f{ ijS I glanced at a clock in a Convent tower Lit by a moonbeam's passing ray, I wearily watched the light clouds lour Over the mansion lingeringly, Thinking on all this mystery : And an hour or so had slipped away, I wondering still, when cautiously A blind was raised — with anxious eye I watched it,— all in dreamy lull Slept silent, calm, and beautiful. Not another sound to break the spell Save the dreary toll of the Convent bell, Swinging so high in the belfry there, To and fro in the sultry air. * '1; * * * ;i« But the moon shines out, and I soon descry That a lady leans on the balcony 'Tis she, my lovely pale unknown, Paler than ever, and all alone. And she fixes her large dark eyes on mine. Not bashfully now, but in calm design, (;6) f ElUna, As if she would .read my thoughts, and test To the uttermost all my looks exprest : And I hazard a sign, and think I see A wavering smile flit over her lips, And another sign is returned to me, For she closes them quick with her finger-tips, As she holds up a tiny note, and a key, And in half a second I stand beneath The balcony, waiting with bated breath, And I catch the note and key as they fall And fly to my room, but first in the hall Tear open the note, and read these words In French, by the glimmer the lamp affords : " Are you discreet and brave, and can " I trust you wholly ?" — thus it ran, " Can I believe you ? — Yes, I will " Come then to-night, when all is still, " Enter the garden door, this key *' Will open it, and there wait for me ; " The greatest caution, avoid the light— " I'll come, don't venture ere midnight." :i{ * ^ ^ * SjC Jfl ifJ ^ »I» 5f« {77) :'>: h m m f .;. ;i ■'^=^ n'xt Elldna. m \ I kissed the note a hundred times and more, I covered it with kisses, for I thought. Although the blind was lowered as licforo, Most probably she watched nic, and I caught The glitter of a hand that waved a sign To show that she expected me, and then Hope gave a loose to lovefulness, — "She's mine," Was joy unutterably sweet, as when Some tempting prize we wish, but hardly dare F.ven to hope to win with weary toil. Drops from the clouds— love's manna from the air — Or like the mangoe seed in gen'rous soil, AVhen quickly ripened by the Juggler's art. It springs up suddenly, and, if a cheat, Appears of nature's handiwork a part, Nor seems unreal to us, for if we eat The blushing fruit is luscious to the taste. Sweet as the sweetest plucked, tho' grown in magic haste, jjc ^^ 'i^ 5t* *i* 't^ And so forgetting everything but this. And only thinking how t'were best to pass The intervening hours away, nor miss A chance of pleasing her, before the glass. With careful carelessness and many a sigh (78) EUi!na. Mk That rose impatiently, I dressed again With trembling fingers that put all awry, So that 1 scarce from thinking could refrain That all was but a dream, till chimed the hour The wished twelve bell-notes, ringing from the tower In sweetest warning, and I quickly caught My pistols up, and gained the little door And gently opened it, and waiting sought To pierce the darkness, where the clust'ring vine Grew thickest, till a hand was placed in mine, A soft warm hand, that shot a fevered thrill Of mad'ning happiness, so wild t'would kill J)id it exceed a second, and I heard The rustling of a dress, but not a word Was spoken, — and she hurried on, before, And, following a long corridor, we came Beneath a staircase of dark polished wood, With gilded bannisters, and many a dame And noble knight in pictured life-length stood Along the wall, — while marble statues gleamed Like ghosts upon each landing place, and seemed To bar the passage, and she led the way Up the wide stair, to where a feeble ray (79) I I ,!. I I' I : .■ 1 1 Hi !, !' I-:, I ■i '11 t I' I 1' . ii N f ;l' 'I 1. 1 '.I "I Ko. Ell^na. Just glimmering thro' a doorway cast a light, Pr.le struggling with the moonbeams, where the night Appeared to gather darkest, and we turned And passed the threshold, and I found myself In a large room, where two tall candles burned : -/ir^d on its panels of dark ebony Were silver shields, and on them graved the arms And all devices of the family, Together with some wond'rous olden charms To scare away the devil, or ea h elf Of wickedness that dared to enter it. But only partially the room was lit, And at one end a massive bedstead stood, With satin curtains closed on every side. And here she loitered, as in thoughtful mood With secret sorrow, blushingly denied ; While, flusht with rapture, I detained her hand, Kissing it fiist — Oh could I but forget ! — Kneeling in adoration, and her grand Liyst^rrious mournful eyes, all lustre-wet, Mirrored on mine and questioned them for love. * * ^ii ^i; :}i Jjc And thus I told the olden story o'er, And only asked a way its truth to prove, (So) -' ^r^ ; I h ElUna. To show her that her lightest wish was more, Far more to me than hfe or wealth or fame. And bending low she whispered, " Will you blame My doubting you? You sweai it ?" And I swore, Swore by the little cruc'lx she wore. To do whatever she should ask of me. Then lowering closer still her quceiily head And murmuring, "You're a noble cavalier, Ally all, I hoped," she rose, and toward the bed She led me hastily, — but still the fear That all was but some dreamy phantasy Harassed my senses, and quite drunk with love. And hungering for reality, I strove To draw the curtains open, but her hand. Nerved with excitement, careless of command, ^Tldway arrested mine, and with a look, A look of speechless agony, that shook All power of reasoning, she gazed on me. And straining her with passion to my breast, I kissed with clinging kisses that confest My frenzied love, and urged her not to be Thus frightened, but to tell me all her fears. And asked her why she trembled, but her tears (8i) I I M. 4; V, ii'* ill! fi ilUl Ml .it 'il EUJna. Were all her answer, and she cUmg to me. ;ii ;{; ^i; -i^ * * ;ji :{« sf< ;r^ * * I tore tlie curtaitis hurriedly aside : A gay dragoon lay prone extended there, Quite motionless, — a youth, in all the pride Of early manhood, — and his face, as fair And smooth to look upon as any girl's, Gleamed ghastly in the moonlight, while his curls Streaked the white pillow-case with lines of blood, In crimson streamlets coursing silently. 13ut still the expression of his features showed The trace of pleasure, joyed in recently, Telling he met his cruel fate, when all His feelings warred ag.iinst it, and the thrall And darkening doom of death were quite forgot. A sickening horror chained me to the spot, And, while I gazed, my voice refused to sound Save in a hoarse low whisper, murmuring on, «' What have you done ? My God ! What have you done ?" Slowly, but solemnly, she answered me : " I did but justice ! stay, — a single word S2) 3::z2.- ElU}ia. " Will justify me, tho' 'tis death to me— " He proved unfaithful. 'Tis the one award " Of treachery,— be warned by it, nor dare " Though loved with tend'rest love, betray the trust *• Oi Andalusia's daughters : for w^ spare " No sacrifice, but love with passion's gust, ''With all owx fiery nature loosed to win " Your hearts and souls, regardless of the sin : " And tho' we die of grief, as I shall die " For having done this deed, through very love, " 'Twere better so, than feel love's agony, " Th' excruciating torture-coils that wove " All snake-like round my heart. 'Twas jealousv " And oh ! though you may hate me, yet you swore, " Swore by the holy cross, to venture all " To do me service, and to think no more " Of fame or life or duty at the call, " Vowing you longed io prove it ; think of this, " Think //^7tvyou swore it,— for a single kiss. " O take away the corpse, take it away / " I cannot, dare not look upon him thus : " I loved him,— O how fondly none can say, " Except my cruel self, and, credulous 5^3=x_ (83) !i.i; lifM ■ )■ "■« "rS^^lS i^W 1 liJ ^i^ ^i?,^ ., * I Klhhia, *' Willi woiD.m's .U(I(^r. I lioliovod him (rue. " Oh ! is not this mx f'uuisJuurni 1 — \\\\<\ vtui, " ^\ ill \ou not hol;i iiu^ ?" ;\nil hrr lU'cp (Ios|x\ir I'ut \\\.\k\c lu'v l>iok lh(^ lo\clic'i ; IM h.ivo iKucd A llunis.iml hc ciii-d. " 1 love vou. — yes. the liahn " Ot'siieh uniiMsonin:; passicMi halt" restoies " Mv laith in man ; 1 love nimi. and vcl now " \\\\ all unworthv ot" vour love ; C) how, " How ean 1 now reward you?" And she knelt All leart'ully bet'ore me. and I fell The spell ot" loveliness in all its lorco, And raised her up and kissed her, while remorse, Peli.'Jil. and horror mini;U\l in mv mind. Tval passion quiekly triumpheil. and I twined My arms about her, whisperin;;-, " He br.ivo ! " Ha\e I not sworn it ? I am .c//// your skive : " Away wiih tears, and let us aet, nor waste '* A moment more ;" ami liftini; up in haste And stagi;ering 'nea'di the eorpse, 1 gained the door, (^^4) ..^,i=^^M A-I lilli' fill. ni!(. (Mlcllin-; si;.I,( ,,r.;,„„cfllili;; (,i, |I„. ,1,,,,,-, '•^lic iH.infcd (.) i(, ,,n'hIv. iiiii I uo!.(> '•'<' '-vrn iMv.iIci li(.ri,,i '(w,,., the s.m.c, I Ik' sell s.mic blown oim' (.('(lie m.iii wIm. ( midc 'I'li.K very ni-li(. .uid .nfci. d l.v iIm- kc)-, r(M(:Ii,iiic(> 1|),> v.-iy key slic ,;,Mvc lo ii)(>. 'I'licii, sccin;; all I()\-(''s stiii-;'jc on my f,i< r, And lou .■ I '. '! i; I . r :i: El Una. And bcarini; up the corpse, I hurried by, A iircy to racking thoughts, and passed tlie door, And reached the street, she following with a light, And lingering there to listen ; and I bore My ghastly burden, favored by the night, 'iMid sluuling trees unnoticeil, to the bank Where darkly pist the (luailalquiver flowed, And heaving it with all my strength, it sank \\\\\\ sullen splash, then all was still, nor showed A trace, save circling eddies, — and I stood And watched them whirling, — till methought the flood Rose to receive me, whilst the fiends of hell With mocking laughter shouted, and the strife And war of waters deafened, and I fell, Losing all sense of memory and life." 5ji *jC *f» ?!% 5|C 3(C He ceased I — the fire-glow llickered on his face, The night-wind sighed in unison with grief. The taults, the frailties of the human race, Our love, our hopefulness, and fond belief, All passed before us ; and the hollow words Of cold philosophy, in death relief. Seemed almost truthful,, as they struck the chords (86) ■^ i^ipl •^ % A FRAGMENT. j>> -- "VS rM'^'S^ ^^'AS in the summer-time, and every flower, '^vlvi' /a ^'^^^ lovinii lanjjuor, si^rhcd her soul away AV/<^ci"vJ In subtle fragrance, — while the wanton showers ^v"i;^^c^|^' Still lingering kissed them, loverlike, and came '^^ ;% .<^4,. // yj,%' 1.0 111 1.1 14° Kf 1^ 12.2 liii& III 1.25 1.4 1.6 ^ 6" ► y^ ^i. ^ ^/' '> ^^v -^y />,. '/ /!^ Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 33 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. MS80 (716) 872-4503 M \ <> ,.«■'* ^ ^^-, ^^* o\ '^:.% w "^ T l\ r ^' SF*- li AV RKVOIR. III'! nicinorius of partin^:; shall encounter the }l anticipations of moctinijj, >'/ OMJOkV* And the tears of tlie one shall be ininLfled with ^§v7; tiie tears of the other, And they sliall form, as it were, a necklace round the neck of desire, 'J'iil, pcradventure, the sun of hope shall shine upon them. And the rainbow of promise shall span the river of separation. >l/> ^■V' (92) il» r S>^5z? NOTES. .'t ' i >^^ i f ^2a:i:?' 1 NOTES. ZKnUNISA. I — A l.ir;;e and cikbiatcd };ni('.en in I ; iier Ii.dia, consistinp fifticrs f>f niaihlc ter- racc^ and fountains, and alx'Undii'v,' with i! . iiU)st entliaiilinj; fruit tri'cs ai.d llnwcrs. It was a favorite resort of Koyalty, ;ik, he e'.bow. 7. — Ankiets made of silver, having little silver balls in them, about the si/e of a pea, so that they ring and jingle as the wearer walks. S. — The Ka-tern beauties stain the palms of tlieir Iiands ar.d the soles of their feet a deep pink, with henna. <). — A small looking glass, called Ar^i, usually very Iiandsoniely set in gold and jirecious stones. It is worn tn the tluunb as a ring. 10. — .\ carria:^e drawn by bullocks, bc-ir.g a fort of tent with dome-siia|>ed top, on wiieelb. '1 he tent is generally of red cloth, and its purd.ihs, or curt.iins, (95) II > r J) iVoUs. "^ .•\n- fiiiiprd \\i;li inws c f ■■n;;ul hells. Some of tlio bullocks are very Tme aiiininls, lliL- N.i.;.uiri arc licid in tlic !ii^;licst i-stcem ; tliey are K'-'iic-i'ly l'i"i-' wliite, cati trot a-^ fast as an ordlnarx Iiorsc, and Cf).t't!i>ii's i,ir niore huraiivc than hcjiiorahle, as he often itteives bribes Ironi both |>i,nntiil .iiid delend Hit. I",. — The more cirrert reiiderir;; r.f SIi i!ab;irj;h, the l.itter beiiii; a corruption of Sii,diin.nl),ir:.jh. There are sevcr.d ^;.iideiis of this n.inie in India, the n.ost f.uno.is he'.ii.i.; tho,c o\crlookinj; the l..d;e, iKMr Srinnu,i;er (the ca;>ila1 of Kaslnnir.) 14. — 'I'he jnliHlpal cities ^^{ Ir.dia are v.alled round, and have in.iiiy fjates, all inoic or less inijiosiii;;. some of them of ;^reat architectural beauty. I?.— 'I'lie walls of m.ii.y of the houses arc covered wiiii paintin,c:s of men, ani- mal, tlowii--, i''',:c. i''i.— .All the houses of the rich have a small door in them, so jil.iced as to be srariL-Iy noticed by a stranger or casual observer : this entrance is used i)y the lad:es ol the c^■t.lhli■.hment, anil by their visitors and servants oniy. 17. — A I.idy's name, si,.^nifyin,;.; '' hcart-stealer." iS. •-Coiiinmr, Icrnis of resj.oct, as aic also " Jjenefactress of the Poor," " (Jueeii of Sunshine," ^iic, lic. 19. — An M.istern proveib. a true one all over tho world. 20. — Mirrors : Tlie v., ills and ceilincs f)f the rooms in the hon; ^s of tlie wealtl-.y, are ot'ien .ulorned very j;or;j:eous!y with j^ildin;^, painting of various colors and design, and a profusion i)f very sin. ill mirrors. 21.— The tran.-l.uiun - o Notes. 35. — Colder sun . Called a Chouk ; it is a flat gold omament, usually in the shape of a sun and st' with jiwels; it is worn on the back of the head on a plait of hair mixed with silk and gold thread, the stars arc worn round the sun, attached to it by silk strings. a6. — They are like the most perfect white roses in miniature, and emit an ex- quisite and delicious perfume, more especial'y when crushed. The n.itive women string them into necklaces and bracelets, and aK o strew them on their couches. 27. — A box filled with many bottles containing different kinds of scents and essences. 28. — A box, usually of gold or silver, containing betel-nut and spices, etc. 29.— A wadded quilt, which serves either as quilt or mattress. 30. — A kind of stays, fitting closely, enclosing the breasts only, made of velvet, silk, or silk (;auze, and often very handsomely embroidered with gold and seed pearls, aud even with jewels. UP IN THE HILLS. 31. — A kind of palanquin. It is borne by four bearers (usually natives ot Kashmir), dressed in fancy livery, according to the taste of the fair occupant, and seldom understanding a word of English and but very little Hindoslanee, so that they are necessarily most discreet. EVELEEN. 32. — A foreigner, — the term applied to Europeans. 33. — A light, native drum, usually beaten on by the fingers. 34.— A kind of lute, with wire strings. The instrument Par excellence of India. 35' — An intoxicating potion, made from hemp. 36. — Dancing girls. 37.— It is related that on the arrival of the detachment of the 78th Highlanders at Cawnpore, after the massacre, they, by some means or other, found and identified the remains of one of General Wheeler's daughters. The sight was horrible, and aroused them to such a pitch of ferocity that, gathering around, they cut off the hair from the poor girl's head, part of which was carefully selected and sent home {91) r If Notes. to lier survivinR friends. The rtinninclcr tlicy divided cquany ntr.rrpst themselves, and on cncli man receiving Jii^- caicluiiy Mtvcd cut j rriii n, ility ail very quietly applied tlieniselves to tlie tedious task of counting llie number of iinirs in each in- dividual's lot ; and when this task was ncc(inip1isl)ed, thuy one and all swore most solemnly that for as many hairs as liny he'd in their fingers to many of the cowardly and treacherous mutineers should die by their hands, ELLKNA. :?0'— 'I he minal-pheasants. They are rather larpe birds, with a plumaRC of the brightest sliadcs that can jiossibly be imagined, of gold, golden-grccn, purple, black and orange. \'ery diffitult tf) get at, and rarely met with except on the highest ranges of the snow-cajiped mountains, where darting down frrm their summits, with the sunlight gleaming on their outs])read wings, they tlirow a light over the snow, composed of all the varied tints of the rail b(.w, 'J lie Kashmiris generally cover their licads, faces, and slioulders with a white cotton cloth when stalking them. 40. — Ibex. A large species of poat, remarkable for liaving long recurved horns. Many s](irtMnen return yearly to Kasliniir solely for the Ibex shooting, and leaving Srinnuger and all the delights of the liappy valley behind them, start off with their chikaris (native hunters) for the mountains. 41. — The I'ir-Punjal, or mid Hymalaya range, crossed on the March to Kashnii via Hhiinbur. 42.— Tlie most lovely lotus, white, yellow, and pale pink, grow in the lake. 4.^. — This delightful tree attains great luxuriance in Kashmir, its bole is of a fine, wjiite, MiKiotli l)aik, and its foliage, of a bright green, forms a glittering and compact tuft at t!ie summit. 44.— The Nasccm-bargh. A large park-like garden, planted with alleys of magnificent thenar trees on the opposite side of the lake to, and exactly facing the world-famed Slialimar gardens of Kashmir. 45. — The custom of diowning fair ladies in sacks was much in vogue here at one time, and it is asserted that even at the present day the practice is not altogether obsolete. 46. Sim-badan. Silver-bodied; witli a body fair as silver. See notes 11 and 2a page '.•6. 47. — The Feast of Roses. The scene presented during the first days of the Festival, is of the most animated and enchanting. Hundreds of boats crowded with gaily attired people, flinging handfuls of the most fragrant roses at each other ; the (98) Azotes. soft tinkl.ns of ,.>tar.. often accompanied by the sweet voices of women. The glonons snmnicr .sun.sl,ine, or fair.r still, the mo.-n mirrored in the uatcrs of the Lake, as m a sea of molten silver ; ihe plash of paddles minKling with the hum o. merriment as the boatmen sweep onwards through the lotus-lilies, even apart from the many avocations conjured up by history and romance, go to forn, n picture of dreamland, never altogether forgotten or effaced. 4S.-The ruins of the Peri-Mahal (or abode of the Fairies) are still seen from the lake. It was in this palace, filled with the loveliest women, and surrounded bv every conceivable and inconceivable luxury, that the Mogul Kmpen.rs anticip..ted the joys of the Mahommedan paradise, and revelled to excess in all the manifok! pleasures promised to true believers. 49- -Wild he-goat. Markor is a Persian word, signifying " snake-eater." 5o.-The monarch of Indian stags, having twelve points on his antlers. iJarali means " twelve," and Singh is a title of honor. 5i.-Chikor. 'Jhe PartaveKe or deck partridge. (/Vnj'/.r .///,,) said to be enamoured of the moon, and to cat fire at the full moon. (99)