Page:Peterson's Magazine 1842, Volume I.pdf/287

48 THE LEPER. BY LYDIA JANE PIERSON.

"OH, Night ! thy pinions lie so heavily Upon the anxious brow that seeks in vain The soothing unction of thy sister sleep. Thy shadows take such wild and fearful forms, And throng the excited brain with phantasies That agonize the spirit, as it turns From one fantastic shape of agony Only to meet a more horriffic shade, And writhe in torture, till the locks that lay In beauty o'er the brow, hang heavily With the cold dew that agony wrings out Upon the throbbing temple. Then the breath Is painfully pent up within the lungs, And the swol'n heart's slow beats are audible, As the ear strains to catch the first dear sound Of an approaching footstep, which comes not All the long weary night. "Oh, I have watch'd, And listen'd, till my heart, and ear, and brain Are wrung almost to madness. "Thou dear lord Of my whole soul and person, who dost sway With loves all potent sceptre every wish And hope of this poor heart. Oh, where art thou? Why dost thou stay so very long away? Some evil surely has befallen thee. I have observ'd of late upon thy brow The shadow of some evil destiny ; Dimming the sunlight of thine eyes of love, Which dwelt upon me with such long strange gaze Of tenderness and sorrow. Oh, I fear! I know not what or wherefore. But thy stay Is unaccountable. And yet perchance The elders of our people who accord To thy young spirit their sage fellowship, Detain thee in the temple of our God. I know thou dost not tarry willingly, So many weary days beyond the hour Appointed for our meeting. Hush poor heart! Say not that many a fond confiding wife Has felt the spirit crushing agony Of causeless cold desertion. Oh, my God! Whate'er affliction it may be thy will To lay upon my bruis'd and humble heart, Spare me this keenest agony of all. " Hark ! ' t is his footstep. Oh, I could kneel down And beg his pardon for the hasty thought That could impeach his honor. "Jared! Love !" "Nay, touch me not Theresa. Oh, great God "Tis now I suffer the full bitterness Of my most dreadful doom. No never more Shall I embrace thee dearest ! Never more Shall thy fond heart throb bliss into my veins Till my soul reels, delirious with delight. Thou shalt repose within my arms no more, And sleep with thy bright cheek against my breast.

Thy pillow will be lone, and wet with tears, And thy bed widow'd while thy husband lives, And loves, and longs to clasp the gentle forms That God made all his own. " Look here, Theresa, If thou art not quite petrified to stone. Oh, may the strength of Israel's mighty God Support thee through this trial. Look poor love, Here is the loathsome plague spot on mine arm ; Death has affix'd his fearful signet here. I am a Leper, fearfully unclean ; An outcast from thy bosom, from my house, My people, from the temple of my God, From love and sympathy. "" The holy priest Hath said it. Leprous, and incurable ; go forth full of anguish, and disease, To suffer through long years of living death, While my infect'd flesh is perishing From off a hideous living skeleton, A foul abhorrent thing whose slightest touch Is rife with death, whose breath is pestilence, Whose constant cry unclean !' shall warn away Every approaching footstep. Oh, Lord God What is my sin, that thou hast laid on me This most revolting of all punishments, This direst of all sorrows, plagues, and deaths ? "Oh, weep not thus dear love. And yet thy tears, The bitter agony that tortures thus Thy young fond bosom, is to me a pledge Of thy deep love and pity. Fare thee well, And do not waste thy life for grief of me. Think of me as I am, a loathsome thing Which none can bear to look on, and whose touch Is terrible contagion . Be thou blest With health and friendship. All this wealth is thine, I leave it all to thee. My daily bread And a coarse robe to wrap my withering form, Is all I now require."

"Jared ! Oh, God ! I cannot hear thee speak such dreadful words, I will not let thee go. My heart ! My heart! 'Tis breaking with fierce anguish. Must it be? Is there no hope, no mercy with the Lord That we must part so soon ? We who have lov'd So long, so fervently. We who have borne Such cruel trials, and endur'd so much? Is this the meed of our tried faithfulness , This parting worse a thousand times than death ?" " Be patient love. Do not arraign the Lord. I still believe him just, and merciful.. What merit could our love have in his eyes? Perchance that very passion is a sin For which he will chastise us. Oh, I feel That I have lov'd thee to idolatry, And love thee madly still. "Nay, come not near, I do command thee ! Oh, for one embrace ! Might I but clasp thee to my heart once more , And then lie down and die. Death were most sweet