Page:Lalla Rookh - Moore - 1817.djvu/32

 For the rude tent and war-field's deathful clash; His ZELICA'S sweet glances for the flash Of Grecian wild-fire, and Love's gentle chains For bleeding bondage on BYZANTIUM'S plains.

Month after month in widowhood of soul Drooping the maiden saw two summers roll Their suns away--but, ah, how cold and dim Even summer suns when not beheld with him! From time to time ill-omened rumors came Like spirit-tongues muttering the sick man's name Just ere he dies:--at length those sounds of dread Fell withering on her soul, "AZIM is dead!" Oh Grief beyond all other griefs when fate First leaves the young heart lone and desolate In the wide world without that only tie For which it loved to live or feared to die;-- Lorn as the hung-up lute, that near hath spoken Since the sad day its master-chord was broken!

Fond maid, the sorrow of her soul was such, Even reason sunk,--blighted beneath its touch;