Yet 'twere most meet
To praise his majesty: he stands--a tower.'
"The same, a false idolater no more,
Now bows him to the God, for whose dread ire
Fall'n on us loved but sinning, we deplore
This long but just captivity. Thy sire
"Receives him well and harkens his request
For know, he comes to ask thee-for a bride
And to be one among a people, blest
Tho' deep in suffering. Nor to him denied
"Art thou, sad daughter--weep--if't be thy will--
E'vn on the breast that nourished thee and ne'er
Distrest thee or compelled; this bosom still
Ev'n should'st though blight its dearest hopes, will share
"Nay, bear thy pains; but sooner in the grave
'Twill quench my waning years, if reckless thou
Of what I not command, but only crave,
Let my heart pine regardless of thy vow."
XXV.
She thus, 'O think not, kindest, I forget,
Receiving so much love, how much is due
From me to thee: the Mede I'll wed--but yet
I cannot stay these tears that gush to pain thy view.'
XXVI.
Sephora held her to heart, the while
Grief had its way--then saw her gently laid
And bade her, kissing her blue eyes, beguile
Slumbering the fervid noon. Her leafy bed
Sighed forth o'erpowering breath; increased the heat;
Sleepless had been the night; her weary sense
Could now no more.
Pages:
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36