Читать книгу Ismael; an oriental tale. With other poems онлайн
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‘And the same law that summons me away,
‘Commands thee here, my Selyma, to stay;—200
‘Farewell.’—
O! who that ne’er experienc’d it can tell
What meaning hangs on that sole word—farewell—
The piercing, thrilling glance, the tender air,
That utter more than words can tell,—are there;
And the big tear that dims the sparkling eye;
And the mute language of th’ imploring sigh;
And that soft, ling’ring tone, that seems the sound
Of love himself, upon that word is found.
O ne’er, O ne’er can he, whose inmost soul
Has never felt it, tell its sweet control!210
Selyma views him seize the snowy rein,
O’er his dark courser’s widely-streaming mane
(Like streaks of light in sable clouds) that hung,
Then on the back of mighty pride he sprung;—
One parting look he casts!—with eagle speed,
Away, away, swift scours that gen’rous steed.
V.
Now pensive midnight’s sable mantle falls
O’er stately Tauris’ proud imbattled walls;
And there dark Desolation’s fix’d his throne;
No sound is there, save sigh or plaintive groan:—220