Her chamber-lamps were in the starry sky, Be of good heart, and may thy sleep be sweet, Ladurlad said: . . Alas! that cannot be To one whose days are days of misery. How often did she stretch her hands to greet Ereenia, rescued in the dreams of night! How oft amid the vision of delight, Fear in her heart all is not as it seems; Then from unsettled slumber start, and hear The Winds that moan above, the Waves below! Thou hast been call'd, O Sleep! the friend of Woe, But 'tis the happy who have call'd thee so. Another day, another night are gone, So often on the beach she took her stand, Save what that single human breast contains, But oh! what hopes, and fears, and pains are there ! Seven miserable days the expectant Maid, From earliest dawn till evening, watch'd the shore ; Hope left her then; and in her heart she said, Never should she behold her Father more. VIII. THE ANCIENT SEPULCHRES 1 WHEN the broad Ocean on Ladurlad's head The dark-green waves with emerald hue, And on the wrinkled sand below, Beholding then that human form erect, Onward Ladurlad went with heart elate, Wondering he stood awhile to gaze Upon the works of elder days. The brazen portals open stood, 1 The narrative here proceeds from the preceding extract without omission.-ED. Even as the fearful multitude The mighty gateway's storied roof was spread, Those streets which never, since the days of yore, By human footstep had been visited, Those streets which never more A human foot shall tread, Ladurlad trod. In sun-light and sea-green, The thousand Palaces were seen Of that proud City, whose superb abodes Seem'd rear'd by Giants for the immortal Gods. How silent and how beautiful they stand, Like things of Nature! the eternal rocks Themselves not firmer. Neither hath the sand Drifted within their gates and choak'd their doors, Nor slime defiled their pavements and their floors. Did then the Ocean wage His war for love and envy, not in rage, Of Mermaid's shell, and song Of choral throng from some imperial hall, But all is silence dread, The everlasting stillness of the Deep. Through many a solitary street, And silent market-place, and lonely square, Arm'd with the mighty Curse, behold him fare. And now his feet attain that royal fane Where Baly held of old his aweful reign. What once had been the Gardens spread around, Fair Gardens, once which wore perpetual green, Where all sweet flowers through all the year were found, And all fair fruits were through all seasons seen; Call'd forth new powers wherewith to vanquish Art. Nor ever did the Lord of Light, Who circles Earth and Heaven upon his way, Behold from eldest time a goodlier sight Than were the groves which Baly, in his might, Made for his chosen place of solace and delight. It was a Garden still beyond all price, And grots of madrepores, And banks of sponge, as soft and fair to eye Their purple cups contracted, And now in open blossom spread, Stretch'd like green anthers many a seeking head. And arborets of jointed stone were there, And plants of fibres fine, as silkworm's thread; Yea, beautiful as Mermaid's golden hair Upon the waves dispread. Others that, like the broad banana growing, Raised their long wrinkled leaves of purple hue, Like streamers wide out-flowing. And whatsoe'er the depths of Ocean hide From human eyes, Ladurlad there espied, Trees of the deep, and shrubs and fruits and flowers, As fair as ours, |