Page:A Tale of the Secret Tribunal.pdf/34



"'Twas done—that moment hurried by To darken all eternity! Years roll'd away, long, evil years, Of woes, of fetters, and of fears; Nor aught but vain remorse I gain'd, By the deep guilt my soul which stain'd; For, long a captive in the lands Where Arabs tread their burning sands, The haunted midnight of the mind Was round me while in chains I pin'd, By all forgotten, save by one Dread presence—which I could not shun.

"How oft, when o'er the silent waste Nor path nor landmark might be traced, When slumbering by the watch-fire's ray, The Wanderers of the Desert lay, And stars, as o'er an ocean, shone, Vigil I kept—but not alone! That form, that image from the dead, Still walk'd the wild with soundless tread! I've seen it in the fiery blast, I’ve seen it where the sand-storms past; Beside the Desert's fount it stood, Tinging the clear cold wave with blood; And e'en when viewless, by the fear Curdling my veins, I knew 'twas near! —Was near!—I feel th' unearthly thrill, Its power is on my spirit still! A mystic influence, undefin'd, The spell, the shadow of my mind!

"Wilt thou yet linger?—time speeds on; One last farewell, and then begone! Unclasp the hands that shade thy brow, And let me read thine aspect now! No! stay thee yet, and learn the meed, Heaven’s justice to my crime decreed. Slow came the day that broke my chain, But I at length was free again; And freedom brings a burst of joy, E'en guilt itself can scarce destroy. I thought upon my own fair tow'rs, My native Rhine's gay vineyard bow'rs, And, in a father's visions, press'd Thee and thy brother to my breast.