Page:Lalla Rookh - Moore - 1817.djvu/35

 No--had not reason's light totally set, And left thee dark thou hadst an amulet In the loved image graven on thy heart Which would have saved thee from the tempter's art, And kept alive in all its bloom of breath That purity whose fading is love's death!-- But lost, inflamed,--a restless zeal took place Of the mild virgin's still and feminine grace; First of the Prophets favorites, proudly first In zeal and charms, too well the Impostor nurst Her soul's delirium in whose active flame, Thus lighting up a young, luxuriant frame, He saw more potent sorceries to bind To his dark yoke the spirits of mankind, More subtle chains than hell itself e'er twined. No art was spared, no witchery;--all the skill His demons taught him was employed to fill Her mind with gloom and ecstasy by turns-- That gloom, thro' which Frenzy but fiercer burns, That ecstasy which from the depth of sadness Glares like the maniac's moon whose light is madness!