Page:The Coming Race, etc - 1888.djvu/148

134 murmured rather than sung, so low and whispered was his voice, the following simple verses, slightly varied from an 4d Arabian poet:—

Light of my soul, arise, arise!

Thy sister lights are in the skies;

We want thine eyes,

Thy joyous eyes;

The Night is mourning for thine eyes!

The sacred verse is on my sword,

But on my heart thy name:

The words on each alike adored;

The truth of each the same,—

The same! alas! too well I feel

The heart is truer than the steel!

Light of my soul! upon me shine;

Night wakes her stars to envy mine.

Those eyes of thine,

Wild eyes of thine,

What stars are like those eyes of thine?

As he concluded, the lattice softly opened; and a female form appeared on the balcony.

"Ah, Leila!" said the Moor, "I see thee, and I am blessed!"

"Hush!" answered Leila; "speak low, nor tarry long: I fear that our interviews are suspected ; and this (she added, in a trembling voice) may perhaps be the last time we shall meet."

"Holy prophet!" exclaimed Muza, passionately, "what do I hear? Why this mystery? why cannot I learn thine origin, thy rank, thy parents? Think you, beautiful Leila, that Granada holds a house lofty enough to disdain the alliance with Muza Ben Abil Gazan? and oh! he added, (sinking the haughty tones of his voice into accents of the softest tenderness,) if not too high to scorn me, what should war against our loves and our bridals ? For worn equally on my heart were the flower of thy sweet self, whether the mountain top or the valley gave birth to the odour and the bloom."

"Alas!" answered Leila, weeping, "the mystery thou complainest of, is as dark to myself as thee. How often have I told thee that I know nothing of my birth or childish fortunes, save a dim memory of a more distant and burning clime; where, amidst sands and wastes, springs the everlasting cedar, and the camel grazes on stunted herbage withering in the fiery air? Then, it seemed to me that I had a mother: fond eyes looked on me, and soft songs hushed me into sleep."

"Thy mother's soul has passed into mine," said the Moor, tenderly.