Читать книгу Ismael; an oriental tale. With other poems онлайн

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His fav’rite slave approach’d, the salem made,

And some low words in whisp’ring accent said—

“’Tis right, them instant to our presence bring,”

With hasty tone replied the haughty king.

The doors of polish’d cedar open flew,

And gave a warrior legion to the view;

While, in the midst, fast bound in iron bands,

A warlike youth, with scorn indignant, stands:310

The simply-splendid garments that he wore,

Some blast of battle-storm had lately tore,

And the rich gold blush’d deep in harden’d gore;

Yet his bright face and form divine, where love

And war’s fierce monarch for the mastery strove,

Seem’d ’mid soil’d garb and fett’ring chains t’ exclaim,

“Behold a son of Conquest and of Fame.”

He that had seen his eye of azure fair,

(Tint in those darkly-glowing climes so rare,)

And the soft cygnet down, that now began320

His cheek to blossom, and to promise man,

And a sweet something o’er it spread—might trace

A woman’s softness in that god-like face.

But, had he seen the almost burning flame