:::;; :■::::; :.' ■ ■:-. mi ^ DOBELL COLLECTION ^ «--^r e*-^ 9 c-.t^s?- 7?^^ ^^^ SO /fa n ALCON MALANZORE A MOORISH TALE. BY THE HONORABLE '• Qnfi^M ■■■■■■ M ■ ' : M.rs esMe steuart erskine. —A simple Poet's wandering dream, "Who loves to rove where Fancy's golden beam Illumes the floWery , iair , fantastic way , That bows submissive to her frolic sway — . "Where shadowy forms obey her mystic wand 5 And weep or smile beneath her despot hand— BRUSSELS : PRINTED BY AUGUSTE WAHLEN , PLACE DE LA MONNAXE- I8I5T" 205449 TO HER ROYAL HIGHNESS , THE DUCHESS OF YORK , THIS POEM IS INSCRIBED | AS THE SINCERE , THOUGH HUMBLE TRIBUTE OP RESPECT AND ADMIRATION. What silver voices floating round Break through my slumber's serial bound?— Immortal odours fill the breeze, That gently waves the light-robed trees— The bosom of the lake is still , Save at my foot, a dimpling rill Sparkles and dances in a ray, That beams not like the beam of day— The silent scene so fair and lone, Is awed by power, it scarce may own= Some Spirit bends above the spring ? And smiling shakes his balmy wing,-^ « — And hush! — amid effulgent rays. What bright-haired Seraph meets my gaze ?-~ His brow of never-fading youth, Serene in purity and truth, Where Beauty all her charm has thrown, Is circled by a laurelled crown j— His plumes enriched by thousand hiieS, Yet sparkle with celestial dews;— The starry zone , the robe of white, With dazzling radiance mock the sight;— And o'er his graceful shoulders slung , The golden lyre of heaven is hung.— « Unearthly Visitant ! — all hail ! Thou who to mortal eyes unveil Essence divine! — oh! deign to stay! Thy will unquestionable, say! » E'en now through every vein I feel A glow unknown, unwonted, steal- By it, and by thy golden lyre, And by thine eye's immortal fire, And by thy presence grand and high, I hail thee — -Power of Minstrelsy! »—« He smiled — and Nature owned the smile- Harmonious sounds the air beguile — And new-born flow'rets raise their head , And bloom where'er his footsteps tread He gave his lyre — and bade me try The awful music of the sky : My hand reluctantly I threw, And nought save sounds of discord drew ; — But, as I swept it, every strain Seemed mellowed, as it rose again; . And visions of poetic birth, Enwrapt me from this nether earth, — ■* It seemed as ages backward rolled, And in far climes the tale I told, Of scenes beheld with that fair Guide, As through the buxom air we ride. — Iberia draws my wandering eyes — Her crimsoned plains before me rise ! — A deed of darkness waits us there — - Heard'st thou not howlings i'the air ? — For things unknown to Heaven, can glide With the grim Moor, from Afric's side — And foul Enchanters spread their spell, And speed their work so dark and well, That scarce a Spirit pure we meet, Who might our entrance hither, greet.— To yon fair convent hie away, We'll rest us there 'till dawn of day : Viewless we point our airy flight, And o'er the lofty bounds alight :— ~ Some fatal web is weaving here — Twill make my song — a song of fear.-— ALCON MALANZORE; CANTO FIRST, « (jenius oi" Spain !—- to thine empyreal throne , ^Wnere raised among the Guardian Spirits high , Thou sitst supreme !«— to thee , the prayer , the groan , That speak a prostrate Nation's misery ! Oh !— intercede with Him, that far above, Thyself and all thy Peers , for e'er doth dwell , Enwrapt in light eternal, joy and lore, And potency whose measure none can tell ! Oh ! plead for us !— through the immortal Son , Plead for a race condemned , and by his wrath undone !— * a ALCON MALANZORE canto i. « And raise thy mighty shield !- — #nd crush the Foe , Whose impious Gods pollute our christian land!— ■ Speak ! — and the stream of life will cease to flow, And Infidels will own thy soverign hand. — The Crescent gleams above the hallowed Fane, And smeared with blood, the Gross is trampled down , And save the scattered fragments of the slain , The very trace of Man from hence is gone : — Canst thou behold — nor bid such sorrows end! — Oh ! stretch thy venging arm ! — Genius of Spain, descend ! » — 20 The Abbess paused—yet still her speaking eye , In all the fire of holy energy , Gazed on that heaven , beyond whose azure glow , She prayed the mercy, vainly sought below Yet marked she at her side , a Novice fair , In anguish whisper « Mercy dwells not there! — » Marked she , the doubtful glance, that mocked her gaze, The forced and bitter smile , that coldly plays canto i. ALCON MALANZORE. 3 Around a lip, where rising sorrow threw Its long-suppressed , its worst , its darkest hue. — On that maternal neck , with head reclined , Her unbound tresses floating to the wind— Her cheek with conscious blushes deeply dyed, Which from that piercing view, she fain would hide : « Oh! may some pitying Seraph list — and bear, E'en to the eternal throne, thy faultless prayer!— May Peace to Man descend !— and hush this jar-, Of heaven abhorred — this self-invented war ! — Yet may the Demon of revenge be stayed By the same hand, that yields immortal aid !— 4° Enough of this— for see, mild Evening shades , With dewy wing, our convent's darkling glades.-— Her s is an hour of rest and solitude : Oh ! happy they, on whom no thoughts intrude. Save such as wearied Nature round her throws , When softly sinking to her veiled repose ! — Impartial Parent ! — in whose smile all dwell , Alike the Christian and the Infidel : 4 ALCON MALANZORE. mmT0 i. Say, why should things , of heaven rejected, share Thine equal love , it never taught to spare ?— Yon lingering sun , that sets in floods of gold , Persia's soft tribes with prostrate awe behold— It cheers our bolder Warriors with its gleam , And the dark Moor hails each returning beam.— E'en now perchance some fierce Invader's gaze Is fixed like ours, and marks its setting blaze. »— * She rests upon that thought — yet more intent , On the far-sinking orb, her looks are bent.— And ne'er did Eve, upon a scene more calm, More lovely, weep her gemmed and fragrant balm . 6q The sloping vallies rich in autumn shone, That lightly tipped their murmuring leaves with brown j And glittering oft beneath some tangled maze , Or opening boldly, Guadalquiver strays.—. Round, Andalusia's mountains proudly rear Their hoary heads in majesty severe ; And with dark, stormy front, and threatening brow, Frown o'er the lovely vales that stretch below: canto i. ALCON MALANZOR& § While emulative of their gloomy pride , Midway upon a lesser mountain's side, The convent's lofty spires, in glittering play, Return the mellow beam of parting day. Within those dreary walls, that close-barred gate. Unwilling victims of relentless Fate, Young Beauty blooms— but ever blooms alone, And Virtue droops, uncherished, and unknown. Yet stood the Abbess of Saint-Mary's high In all we love, revere, and sanctify; Time on her brow had left its honored trace, Yet had not robbed it of that matchless grace 8© Virtue alone bestows — a sacred beam That passes not, with Beauty's dazzling dream 5 Her days so tranquil, save for other's woe, Ought seldom bade the ready tear to flow; Tho' not from bigot superstition free, Meek, mild, e'en cheerful was her piety; Her trust fulfilled with fond, maternal care, For her the grateful Nuns oft poured their prayer; 6 ALCON MALANZORE. canto i. For her, who spurning the base pride of power, Employed it, but to strew with many a flower, Their lonely path, and cheer the pensive hour. Unlike thine other prisons, Spain, were here No shrieking penitent, no pain-wrung tear, No secret cell, where trembling suppliants stood, Where sickening Earth ^or£jed on her children's blood. Blush Christianity! oh! blush from shame, That e'er beneath thy pure, and hallowed name, Such guilty sacrifice, such impious deed, Has stained thy bosom, bade thine altars bleed! — And blush too, Spain! infatuated land! ioo That the foul Demon, 'neath thy fostering hand, Enlarged his hideous form, to utmost size, Rearing his forehead to the darkened skies, And shadowing o'er thee, grimly smiled to see The expiring victims of Credulity ! Oh ! not the Giant's cradle , haughty Rome , Could match thy dark, inquisitorial tomb! i canto i. ALGON MALANZORE. 7 Yet haply would a gleam of transient light, Dart through thy bigotry's deep-clouded night : Thus in Saint-Mary's , 'spite each priestly wile , Content had beamed her fair , and placid smile ; It was not the abode of Happiness, And yet it scarcely might appear as less, Save when the eye prophetic could behold The heart, that beat beneath its sable fold; And follow to her cell the sacred Maid , x And mark the glow of simple pleasure fade, The saddened sigh, the slowly falling tear , That heedless sprung, tho' checked in painful fear; Yet far below the grief that others bear, 120 For seldom did remorse envenom there. And who had seen this eve the cloistered Maids. In smiling groupes , range 'mong the flowery shades , Or heard their voice's soft , melodious strain , Or marked them lightly bounding o'er the plain , With dark locks waving, or with loosened veil, With cheek rich glowing from the evening gale, 8 ALCON MALANZORE. canto i And laughing eye — had sworn this calm retreat Was dedicate to Joy — his favorite seat. Pausing — awhile the youthful Rosaline, With pensive silence eyed the varying scene, Yet marks she nought around it vainly throws Its magic heauty and its still repose From setting sun she turns her restless gaze, O'er wood, o'er hill, o'er silvery wave it strays; Then on the sister-throng , her vacant eye Is bent so long, so wild, so mournfully, It marks the workings of a mind, where Pain Has fixed a sting, or Guilt a lasting stain — And can it be! — can ought of falsehood dare i^o To veil itself, neath form so soft and fair ? So soft , it seems not of this mortal earth— So fair, the loveliest of celestial birth.— Can ought be read of dark impurity, In the raised glance of that bright-weeping eye ? Shading its deep-blue lustre neath the fringe, canto i. ALCON MALANZORE. § That rests upon her cheek's luxuriant tinge— Upon that calm majestic brow, no trace Is branded by thy well-known touch, Disgrace! And if around that lip of rosy hue , Young laughing Love, his wily ambush threw, That lip, unconscious of the guileless stain, Boasts nought of the voluptuous , or the vain ; If in the softness of her air was seen A fondness, playful, arch, and infantine — Yet calmly dignified, and chastely cold, It checked the free, and awed the loosely bold. — • Oh! if that voice, that lip, that eye betray, Virtue, thou art a shade! — base thought, away!—. Angels are Syrens. Evil reigns alone, i&Q If in that breast it has usurped a throne !— All there is gentle as an Infant's sleep, Pure as the pearls, that morning roses weep. Tender as Poets feign Cytherea's sigh, With all their Dian's virgin majesty. — i0 ALCON MALANZORE. cjlmo i. She had a lofty energy of mind, With form of Sylph , by Grace itself refined — You would have thought this Being to mortals given r Too delicate to meet the airs of heaven.— Had Nature then, with disobedient force, For once broke through , her fixed unvarying course , Bidding Perfection rise upon this earth, Debarred its native skies, its heavenly birth—. No — t'was not bounteous Nature, that alone Could claim this lovely, favored Child her own— From Piety the streams of virtue came, At once their origin, support, and aim; But warm, enthusiastic, still retained The shade of darkness, that around it reigned.—. Yet ah! humanity is weak and frail, i8o Breaking with the storm, and bending to the gale — Tho' strongly propt by law's controlling aid, Tho' sheltered by religion's sacred shade! Nor royal birth — nor pure unspotted fame — Nor Virtue's self, could that young breast reclaim From rooted grief — and must I say— from shame.—. canto i. ALCON MALANZOUE, n Still had the Abbess watched her as she stood, And marked her varying, melancholy mood. « Daughter, think not thy bosom's secret grief, That shuns the light and proudly scorns relief; The silent tear, worn cheek, and struggling sigh, Have passed unheeded or unpitied by. Long have I watched with all a Mother's care, Thy blooming sweetness wasting to the air, And long have sorrowed, that the Child I love, Of every worldly thing far , far above, Bending to earth , with painful step , and slow , Should seek in death alone, the end of woe; Or next to death, should hide a virtue rare, Unequalled talent, beauty matchless fair, Soo Within the convent's solitary gloom, Its secret paths , its deep , tho' living tomb i Nay, start not Rosaline! — if bent with age, If tossed by Passion's foul, demoniac rage, is ALCON MALANZORE. cas*o i. Stung with remorse, or by misfortune prest, Then mightst thou seek the Church's hallowed breast, And there — and only there — find guard, and rest. But thou O Daughter ! in whose royal vein Mingles the blood of England , and of Spain ; In youth's first opening bloom—but whose high name E'en now is stamped with seal of virtuous fame, Enriched with future promise — whence dost thou, With all these honors wreathing on thy brow, Desert the post by Providence assigned, For which it formed those energies of mind, Those very virtues — that transplanted here, But lose their fragrance, droop, and disappear. And think my Child, that even tli^fair fame, This sudden step may taint with spot, and shame — I see thy blushes mantle at the thought, 220 I see thy glance, with indignation fraught, Yet — if this arm ere propt thine infant he«d, If ere I watched around thine orphan bed, Or planted in thy childhood seeds of truth, Or helped to clear the dangerous path of youth — canto i. ALCON MALANZORE. i3 Oh ! Princess ! list to me ! — tis all I ask , This once — and I have done the eventful task. « While shining in your sovereign Uncle's court , Its brightest gem , its pride , its chief support , While noblest suitors bowed around , and still , (Waving compliance with your Brother's will) , You treated all , with gentlest courtesy , Distinguished none , and yet were boasted free j While high in sanguine youth's light-hearted mood, Admired, beloved, you yet had firmly stood, Praised, and respected by the wise and good- Wondrous to tell — from that exalted height , (Perhaps too soaring for this mortal state ), You sunk at once and struck by inward care, Became the victim of concealed despair I a4<* In vain its hidden source do all explore, The effect alone they view— for soon no more In that wan cheek, that downcast, pensive mien, Could ought be traced of joy, of Rosaline. i4 ALCON MALANZORE, canto r* Pale Envy Smiled, and Slander's venomed tongue Like lightning round , its baneful murmurs flung ; At length 'twas known , that soon a convent's shade Would close upon that young, and royal Maid, Who had appeared but as a beam of light , A moment glittered to their dazzled sight, Then set for ever, in the shades of night. Deaf to entreaty, cold to prayers, and tears T You knew no pity, and you felt no fears; Reason was vain — unyielding to the last , From Fortune's highest pinnacle you past, You past to solitude , to poverty , To self-condemned, and lasting misery. « Oh ! yet my Child — while yet thou mayst — .reflect I T# weigh the deed , each power of thought , collect — When done — tis past recall — alas! not then 26a Canst thou arise to hope , to life again. How wilt thou answer for these years mispent, Hiding the gifts that Providence has lent t canto i. ALGON MALANZORE, i5 Spurning the station it designed for thee , Baffling the work of partial Destiny ? Thine are the duties of the active scene , No selfish woe with them must intervene : To awe the proud oppressor, cheer the opprest , To shed around thee , happiness , and rest ; To strengthen by example, virtue's cause , Thy sex's dignity, religion's laws — These are thy duties , these fulfilled alone Can best soothe sorrow, or for guilt atone, Save that against our Church-^-at whose dread fane , A life devoted only can attain Pardon and peace for the abandoned soul , That doubts her faith , or spurns her high control. » « Enough — that seals my doom— yes Abbess knew * The fatal cause from whence my sorrows flow , Bears such impiety , that but to hear Would chill thy love to hatred, and to fear. — itf ALCON MALANZO&E. tksfd t. — O Parent ! Friend ! —most honored, most revered ! a8d Guide of my youth , whose gentle bosom reared , Whose fostering hand sustained me ! canst thou learn Of shame, of crime, and yet forbear to spurn The kneeling culprit from thee ?—-canst thou bow The majesty of virtue down so low , As yet to look on me , to pray for me , To think of what I was , and what must be ? To pour thy blessing on this humbled head, Ere the last sigh of fleeting life has sped , Ere that dread secret , in the silent earth , Sleeps with the guilty breast, that gave it birth ? — Oh! thou dost weep! — most welcome, precious tear! Than e'en thy tenderest smile, more fond, more dear! It speaks that love maternal , true , sublime , Unworn by years , unshaken e'en by crime. — Withdraw it not!— it is the sole last tie, That binds me to a life of misery ; The only hope that lingers round my heart 3oo The only solace that will not depart. •~-And yet—I dare not tell thee— here unknown canto i. ALCON MALANZQRE. 1? Must rest that fatal mystery — save to one— The crime involves my life — my blood alone Could to our stern, unbending laws atone. — - Nay, start not— for however deep that blot, Religion, principle, forsook me not — ■ Blindfold I followed to destruction's brink , Yet tore the bandage , and refused to sink . But in this bosom , that thou sayst so fair, Oh ! it has fixed contamination there—. Yet, by the cloister's sacred veil enshrined, My days to penitence and prayer resigned ; My heart subdued — -affection, hope, and fear, For ever chilled by vigilance austere ; Weaned from the pains of earth — I may once more 9 With thought immaculate that Power adore, Whose kind , parental hand , shall give release , Receive the atonement , bid each sorrow cease , And raised from dust, with every sin forgiven , 3^q Crown me a dedicated Bride of Heaven ! »— * i$ ALCON MALANZORE. canto i. Then sinking on her knees , with hands upraised , In seeming exstacy a moment gazed : And by her side , the reverend Abbess knelt , Shared her devotion , all her sufferings felt. Solemn and slow the silver accents rose , Hope [tinged her cheek — .her virgin bosom glows "With joy ineffable — as angels feel, When heavens respond their halleluian peal. Oh ! boasted world , say , what hast thou to give , When feelings such as these , have ceased to live ? Thy paltry pleasures yet more paltry seem , We smile at pain, and woe becomes a dream : Scorning thy slaves, from thee they never know The only perfect joy thou canst bestow. It is a spark of that celestial fire , Which dares to its great origin aspire , Bursting the prison of our living clay, It seeks its source in heaven's immortal day ; Or 'tis a breath of that celestial love , 34o Wafted by Mercy's Messengers above j — . canto r. ALCON MALANZORE. j 9 Calm , blissful , pure , the mystic current flows , And round its charge, a shield empyreal throws.. Rolling its echoes from the mountain side, The convent toll in distant murmurs died ; The scattered hamlets greet the holy sound; The Peasant calls his blooming offspring round , And blesses them, as lisping slow they share Returning even's regulated prayer ; And draw down curses on the turbaned head , And call each Saint to guard their infant bed. Despair , remorse , slept in that Mourner's breast , As to the Abbess's wan cheek she prest Her coral lip — ,no word was said , and nought Conveyed to each the comprehended thought , Except that filial kiss — when moving on, Obedient to the hoarse bell's warning tone , They reach the cloistered aisles , assembling where The consecrated Sisters meet for prayer ±0 ALCON MALANZORE. canto i< And well methinks the melancholy scene, 36o Might from this earth , the awed beholder wean : The light of day shut out, the torch's flare Supplies it with imperfect , partial glare ; Along the deep arcades where lie the dead* The white-veiled Novices in silence tread ; Their snowy forms emerging through the gloom, Appear as yielded by some yawning tomb : And see , behind you lofty pillared shades, Gently advancing the dark-mantled Maids ; With folded hands , and eye that seeks the ground , And measured step, they slowly gather round* One aged Monk beside the altar sate, And Abbess canopied in chair of state ; And soon the Sisters ranged on either hand ^ In triple rows with breviaries stand. Trembling in soft low note, the solemn sound Of sacred music murmurs gently round ; Then bursts into the anthem loud and high f Then variates in wandering melody \ CANTd i. ALCON MALANZORE. 21 Their voices, hearts, at once the Sisters raise 38o In full according symphony of praise. And Rosaline , as it sweetly swelled along , Joined in each note devotion's lovely song ; Warm, pure, and perfect, from her lips it flowed j And grateful hope in every feature glowed : O Maiden ! seize this moment 'ere tis past , Of joy , of innocence, it is thy last ! — ■ « My sin is pardoned! »-— even as she spoke, A painful image on her fancy broke , And with it came that strange foreboding fear, Which on this very eve, had forced a tear, That bitter tear , that deep , and struggling sigh , Which drew the Abbess's observing eye. In deep anxiety her gaze she sought, And marked her brow of melancholy thought ; The Abbess met her look : each seemed possessed With dread that neither to herself confest ; Each turned her to her prayers, yet strove in vain Devotion's faded fervor to regain, s* ALCON MALANZORE. canto i. The last sad echo died upon the ear, 4°° That wrapt in exstacy , still bent to hear Its soft prolonging note — hushed , silent all , Prostrate the hallowed Sisters slowly fall , In act of humble adoration round, Bending their veiled foreheads to the ground — When loud, tho' distant, rang the portal bell, Some Stranger , or some Monk's approach to tell ; And yet, so rare its tone, with one consent, In fixed attention, Nuns and Abbess leant; Near, and more near the jarring sounds arose, Of creaking hinges , and the bar's hoarse close ; A hasty footstep filled the Maids with dread : « Tis not » — they whispered — « the lay-Sister's tread ! » — ■ When rushing in — pale — breathless — stained with blood — A white-haired , venerable Father stood ! One hand sustained the Cross, the other prest In anguish, struck upon his aged breast: « Fly ! » — he exclaimed — « away ye Maids of heaven J — * Fly , ere these holds by stronger hand be riven , canto i. ALCON MALANZORE. 2 3 And vomit forth hell's armed, and outcast crew, 4 2 & Breathing violation — murder — e'en to you !— All, all is lost — (God 's will be done!) and here The vengeful Victor speeds his' dark career ; Pours from the mountain o'er this peaceful vale, Which soon must echo to the Matron's wail, The Virgin's shame — the slaughtered Infant's cry — They press my footsteps — Maids of heaven , fly ! » — As when o'er timorous birds that seek the shade , Or flutter sportive round the sunny glade , Wild as the breeze in which their pinions play, They freely pour their simple roundelay : A hungry vulture from his nest of air, Views with a greedy eye , the destined fare ; Hushed is the grove — as hovering dark , and near , He thrills his victims with instinctive fear ; And when he sinks , the rushing myriads fly , With beating wing disperse — escape — or die:— a4 ALCON MALANZORE. canto i. Thus with those lonely Nuns—in wild amaze, They list the fatal tale the Monk conveys ; Loud shrieks of horror mix with mute despair, 44° Reproach of Heaven's high will , with fervent prayer ; Now round the Cross their helpless arms they fling , Now to the venerable Abbess cling ; Who, with uplifted eyes, and folded hands : In speechless sorrow, one dark moment stands : Tis past — the gathering ills, that round her close, But yield more might, and firmness to oppose ; That long respected voice has power to still Terrors wild groan, Despair's yet wilder will; Her accent , and her look , composed , serene , Calm the sad tumult of the maddening scene; ' And as she raises up her hands in prayer, Her holy confidence all seem to share , And new-born hope , and resolution high , Spring to each breast, and light in every eye: « And ye my Children , trust for your defence , .Your God — your Saint— ^your spotless innocence !— < canto i- ALGON MALANZORE. a5 Brave death, imprisonment and torture — all, That can on suffering, struggling nature fall, To guard that innocence from spot and blame, 460 Yourselves from infamy, and woe, and shame! » *— In haste the Father took the word, and said : « I do conjure ye — by the pains ye dread — By this blest Cross — .by Him whose blood was shed For you, and all — by" every joy ye prize- To yield your lives a guiltless sacrifice ! The curse of Heaven will rest on her, who sinks, And from this high , this awful duty shrinks In deed , in word, in thought— her name I load As traitress to her country, and her God ! — Speed to the deepest cells ! — the tombs the dead Will hide ye in their still, and marble bed ! » — . Scarce had he ended, when a distant sound, In echoes rude , reverberated round , And warned the trembling Sisters ere too late , How near they stood to all we dread and hate. Now from that cloister all save two, are sped; Perchance to seek the dwellings of the dead , 4 s<5 ALCON MALANZORE, canto i. Or in some hidden nook, or secret cave , Cherish a last, and lingering hope to save— 480 All fled but two — the Abbess yet was here , And to her side, in mute amaze and fear, The kneeling Princess clung — all was so still, So calm, so drear — it struck a heavier chill Than the wild scene confusion erst had wrought , To sure yet unknown horrors it had brought Reflection close — upon that bending head , The Abbess' trembling, suppliant hands were spread, With eyes uplifted, she appeared to claim A blessing on the brow, condemned to shame. — It seems as tho' a word might separate The viewless link that yet suspends their fate; They speak not — -breathe not— but her waving hand Conveys the dreaded and the last command— To fly — to leave her — for the Ruffian's rage, May spare perchance the sacred head of Age ; But maiden beauty hath a traiterous bloom, That drags or lures its Victim to her tomb. canto i. ALCON MALANZORE. zj One moment round the Abbess' neck she hung, The next, like lightning, from her sight she sprung: 5oo That maddening thought — it winged her utmost speed- Soon corridor , and lengthening aisles recede t And as she flies , rude voices from behind , Swell, with loud shout, and horrid langh, the wind t « Oh! I will save thee yet! » — she wildly cried— - And paused — -and turned—and would have death defied But for that other thought — onward she flew* And gained an outlet , close concealed from view ;- Her way she forced athwart the foliage green , That hid it with its dark, and mazy screen— The rising moon displayed her silver crest, — T'was bright as day — and all looked peace and rest.— Attentively she bowed her listening ear , Dead silence reigned— no mortal lingered near— Oh ! might she reach yon chapel's sacred shade > In which enclosed , a secret tomb is laid ! — Through the dark grove she glides with cautious tread— The chapel 's reached — her heart now sinks with dread,— aS ALCON MALANZORE. canto %, Now flutters high with hope — her trembling hands Seize upon the bar — ah heaven! it withstands 5 20 Her utmost force!— and see — the mountain-side Groans 'neath the weight of military pride! — ■ Tis silenee now no more— the horn's harsh sound , Mingled with shouts and cries , re-echoes round — » Despair and agony each soft nerve strain — It moves — it yields— alas ! it yields in vainf Who clasps her waist? — what ruthless monster dare Stain by his touch , a form so chaste and fair ? And from that brow its snowy bandage tear ? : — And gathering round , see — what grim faces rise , While two armed plunderers struggle for the prize ! — Pale Cynthia sickens — and the torch's rays, Round the dark figures flash, with waving blaze. — * Fear gave her strength— indignant shame and pride , The place of courage , and defence supplied ; Through the stern combatants, who fierce and bold, Retained her as they fought, with iron hold, €aivto i. ALCON MALANZORE, 29 She broke at once— regardless of the life , That all but yielded to the unsheathed knife, And raised her veil-?- when e'en those Ruffians stood, 54o For one short while, admiring and subdued — - It seemed a Being of air , celestial bright , Scaring the gloomy spirits of, the night.— E'en those , on whom the equal hand of Time Has left a trace indelible of crime ; Their nature evil , hardened to its shame , t The eye of Virtue — only that — may tame — Callous to suffering — paying scorn with scorn, And every ill in sullen patience borne , They fear not — shrink not — save beneath that look , Whose power, tho' momentary, few can brook : Tis felt — 'tis past — and like the passing wind , Leaves not one solitary trace behind. — « Warriors ! — I am your prisoner — from your hand , My honor , safety , I beseech — demand ! — Nay on your lives all injury restrain — - I am a Daughter of the Kings of Spain-** 3o ALCON MALANZORE. «a*to i. Lead me to your Chief ! » — Pausing and amazed , The turbaned Savages an instant gazed ; When one more bold, licentious than the rest, 56b With taunting smile , the luckless Maid addrest : « Tis vain — bewitching cheat! — no Princess thou, Tho' by thine eyes, and alabaster brow , I swear thee lovelier than the Houri Fair With her 'kerchief green , and ambrosial hair !— I held thee first— and 'spite you dastard's claim, And 'spite thine angry frown , and blushing shame r I seize my prize — and follow e'en what may, I dare a host to snatch thee, Maid, away » ! — The band laughed lond applause — her veil he threw With moorish jealousy to guard from view , Or further scrutiny those suppliant charms, And lifted her in his polluting arms; In vain she struggled, shrieked, implored in vain, He cursed her sorrow , ridiculed her pain. And were there none, whose pitying hand might save, Not one to snatch from a dishonored grave, canto i. ALCON MALANZORE. Si A Being so fair, so helpless — yet so proud , That she had rather fold her in her shroud, And sink alive among the crumbling dead, 5 80 Than that the breath of vice should dare to shed Its baneful venom round her? — such a stain She held it, t'was scarce virtue to refrain. — But ah! her sense has fled with that last groan! — Perchance the piercing wildness of its tone, Has echoed to a heart, that yet can feel, And armed a hand, that may redeem her still It has !— -it has .'-—thanks to thy mercy Heaven ! The portal-arch with one rude blow is riven— A giant hold retains the abandoned Moor , That in his arms the hapless burthen bore, And to his neck the fatal sabre prest Threatens his cruelty a lasting rest — On bending knees , that awe-struck Soldier laid On the cold marble the still colder Maid The Chieftain paused — and sheathed his sabre dread— (T'was dyed with christian blood too deeply red) — 32 ALCON MALANZORE. canto r. o Hence! — from, thy base and abject fears arise!— ,Vile crouching slave ! but — by yon starry skies , And by our Sovereign's sacred soul I swear, 600 That he among you, who again shall dare To offer shame to Matron or to Maid — His life is forfeit to the Headsman 's blade — And every drop of female blood that 's spilt, Shall be avenged — e'en to the sabre-hilt ! — Yet once — thou'rt spared — -mercy is shown to thee— Learn to bestow, what now thou prayst from me ! » — He spoke — the obedient Soldiers trembling hear , And bending low, at once they disappear. — Ill-fated Maid ! t'was then some Demon stood , And wrought thy doom in characters of blood I While sternly joyed hell's black malignant train, To see a pardoned Angel sink again- Irrevocable fall! the Fiend has won, 'The web is woven, and the work is done'» — santo i. ALCON MALANZOR& 33 Yet at his feet the shrouded Novice lay , Still as tlie tomb 6'er which her wild locks play j The moorish Chief gazed on the prostrate Fair, Marked her fine form, her richly flowing hair, The rounded arm , that o'er her head was thrown , 62® All, all , the touch of finished beauty own. — . Awhile he paused — and deeply sighed— yet nought Stained by a wish impure his inmost thought ; Cold he admired— and in good truth t'was rar© To see relax that deep-marked brow of care; To see that eye , with other lightnings flame, Than those which glory , and fierce war might claim—* And yet he sighed-— perchance in that stern mind Some distant recollection half defined, Stayed for a moment the dear-bought delight, The blood-stained triumph of victorious fight. He knelt, and gently his dark hand withdrew Each clustered tress, disclosing to the view Such polished neck, as to the Trojan's sight Revealed his goddess-Mother^-roseate bright :— 34 ALCON MALANZORE. can*o u The Hero trembled-^-and his swarthy cheek Flushed with emotion that no words can speak — He feared — he doubted — yet forbore to raise The veil , that hid her from his ardent gaze- Impetuous , high) and spurning all control, 64o He curbed for once the feelings of his soul.— Her bosom rose , and with a sigh so deep , It bade anxiety a moment sleep : — ■ « Thy fears are vain — thou'rt safe and free ! »_^.he said— - The unconscious fair one slowly raised her head — Is it a dream ? — that voice each nerve it thrilled — Roused every sense, while every fear it stilled — She rose — she turned—bewildered and amazed — • Lifted her veil — and for one instant gazed- The next — her chaste yet unresisting charms Were folded in the Moors enraptured arms ! That moment !-_oh ! 'twas more than earthly bliss !~^ Pure vet extatic was the trembling kiss, That bending his gigantic form he prest On Rosalina's cheek —his mailed breast