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"Where every hue that charm❜d before

"The blackness of my bosom wore.

"The rest thou dost already know,

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"And all my sins, and half my wo.

"But talk no more of penitence;

"Thou see'st I soon shall part from hence: "And if thy holy tale were true,

"The deed that's done can'st thou undo?

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"Think me not thankless-but this grief "Looks not to priesthood for relief. (41) "My soul's estate in secret guess:

"But would'st thou pity more, say less.
"When thou can'st bid my Leila live,
"Then will I sue thee to forgive;

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"Then plead my cause in that high place "Where purchased masses proffer grace.

"Go, when the hunter's hand hath wrung "From forest-cave her shrieking young, "And calm the lonely lioness:

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"But sooth not-mock not my distress!

“In earlier days, and calmer hours,

"When heart with heart delights to blend, "Where bloom my native valley's bowers

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"I had—Ah! have I now?-a friend! "To him this pledge I charge thee send, "Memorial of a youthful vow;

"I would remind him of my end:

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Though souls absorb'd like mine allow

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"Brief thought to distant friendship's claim,
"Yet dear to him my blighted name.
""Tis strange-he prophesied my doom,
"And I have smiled-I then could smile-
"When Prudence would his voice assume,

"And warn-I reck'd not what-the while :

"But now remembrance whispers o'er "Those accents scarcely mark'd before. "Say-that his bodings came to pass,

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"And wish his words had not been sooth:

"Tell him, unheeding as I was,

"Through many a busy bitter scene "Of all our golden youth had been, "In pain, my faltering tongue had tried "To bless his memory ere I died; "But heaven in wrath would turn away, "If Guilt should for the guiltless pray. "I do not ask him not to blame,

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"Such cold request might sound like scorn; "And what than friendship's manly tear

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"A shrivell'd scroll, a scatter'd leaf,
"Sear'd by the autumn blast of grief!

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"Tell me no more of fancy's gleam,

"No, father, no, 'twas not a dream;
"Alas! the dreamer first must sleep,
"I only watch'd, and wish'd to weep;
"But could not, for my burning brow
"Throbb'd to the very brain as now:

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"I wish'd but for a single tear,

"As something welcome, new, and dear:

"I wish'd it then, I wish it still,

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"Despair is stronger than my will.
"Waste not thine orison, despair
"Is mightier than thy pious prayer:
"I would not, if I might, be blest,
"I want no paradise but rest.

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""Twas then, I tell thee, father! then

"I saw her; yes, she lived again;

"And shining in her white symar, (42)

"As through yon pale gray cloud the star "Which now I gaze on, as on her,

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"Who look'd and looks far lovelier;

"Dimly I view its trembling spark;

"To-morrow's night shall be more dark;

"And I, before its rays appear,

"That lifeless thing the living fear.

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VOL. II.

2 A

"I wander, father! for my soul
"Is fleeting towards the final goal.
"I saw her, friar! and I rose

66 Forgetful of our former woes;
"And rushing from my couch, I dart,
"And clasp her to my desperate heart;
“I clasp—what is it that I clasp?
"No breathing form within my grasp,
"No heart that beats reply to mine,
"Yet, Leila! yet the form is thine!
"And art thou, dearest, changed so much,
"As meet my eye, yet mock my touch?
"Ah! were thy beauties e'er so cold,
"I care not, so my arms enfold
"The all they ever wish'd to hold.
"Alas! around a shadow prest,
"They shrink upon my lonely breast;
"Yet still 'tis there! In silence stands,
"And beckons with beseeching hands!
"With braided air, and bright-black eye-
"I knew 'twas false-she could not die!
"But he is dead! within the dell
"I saw him buried where he fell;

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"He comes not, for he cannot break

"From earth; why then art thou awake?

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"They told me wild waves roll'd above

"The face I view, the form I love;
"They told me-'twas a hideous tale!
"I'd tell it, but my tongue would fail :

"If true, and from thine ocean cave
"Thou com'st to claim a calmer grave;

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"Oh! pass thy dewy fingers o'er

"This brow that then will burn no more;

"Or place them on my hopeless heart:

"But, shape or shade! whate'er thou art,

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"Then lay me with the humblest dead,
"And, save the cross above my head,
"Be neither name nor emblem spread,
"By prying stranger to be read,
"Or stay the passing pilgrim's tread."
He pass'd-nor of his name and race
Hath left a token or a trace,

Save what the father must not say
Who shrived him on his dying day:
This broken tale was all we knew
Of her he loved, or him he slew. (43)

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