1898. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Clrap.ffj?. (Jop^i^t No UNITED STATES OF AMERICA Let me thy chorded breast wake from its sleeping, One throb from thy Symphonied soul wake again ; Too long has the Siren of Song in thy keeping Felt the touch of the hand that would wake — but in vain. — Norman. Ealien and Lenard; OR. THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY ^n €pic ^ocrn M BY- JANIES NORIVIAN PHILADELPHIA SHERMAN & CO., PRINTERS 1 .04-? t 3 I 89^ 24091 Copyright by JAMES NORMAN TWO OOPieS REC::iVED. V^c? \^ CONTENTS. Preface, PAGE 5 Ealien and Lenard ; or, The Shadow of a Prophecy, . 19 The Lovers' Meeting — After the Prophecy, . . . . 19 Lenard' s vStory, 22 The Forest Cave — The Sorceress, 38 The Dupe, 58 Rufus Hall — The Bedchamber — The Count's Soliloquy, . 67 The Trysting Place, 74 The Garden — The Snare, ...... . 80 The Plot, . 87 The Prison — The Captive, . 98 The Banquet, ........ 110 The Armor Room— Rufus Hall, . 116 The Banquet Hall, 121 The Bedchamber, 122 Finale, .......... • 136 Miscellaneous Poems. Preface, ......... • 141 Beauties of the Schuylkill, H5 Immortal Lincoln, ....... . 146 The Dervish Flag-Bearer, . 148 The Irish Minstrel, . 150 Baby Mine, • 152 (iii) IV CONTENTS. The Hero of Chancellorsville, 155 A Nation's Loss, 157 Devotion, 158 Lines Dedicated to Independence Hall, . 161 Dedicated to Mother, .... 163 Ode to Philadelphia, .... 165 The Nation's Dead, .... 167 War, the Ruthless Arbiter, . 169 The Solicitude of Love, 171 An Irish Greeting, .... 172 Retrospect, 173 Baby Fashion, 175 Age's Regret, 176 The Orphan's Dream, .... 178 The Blind Boy's Story, .... 181 Constancy, 183 Lines on Admiral Dewey, 185 The Little Christian's Death on New Year's Morn, . 186 Good-Bye, Old Bike, .... 188 Inception of Love, .... 190 PREFACE. THE subjoined poem is a poetical narrative by a young friend, a companion, whom I was fortunate in meeting in one of the rural districts situate in the middle counties of England. Being at that time in quest of places having historical connections, or other- wise replete with traditional importance, I was but too eager to take advantage of my young friend as guide on his invitation to visit the Forest of S , where, as he described, we found a cave or grotto-like structure that saliently raised its jagged head of stone. Deep in the density of the forest, yet strange, this cave was environed even in the midst of that luxuriant place by a circular track or terrace of soil exhibiting a sterility surprising — so bare, so barren, that not one vestige of anything per- taining to botanical life seemed manifest there. "This," my friend explained, " was what was known as * The Cave of the Sorceress.' " Becoming interested in the place and its weirdness, I importuned my companion to relate to me such of its history as he was conversant with. At my solicitation he replied in the affirmative, but cau- tioned as to my tolerance, as the story, he said, con- nected with the cave was of considerable length, but assured me that it bore many items of interest which he felt confident would furnish me with food for thought. ** Years ago," he said — '' in fact as far back as the reign of the Eighth Harry — when in the earlier portion of his 6 PREFACE. rule at that time, his consort being Catherine of Arra- gon, the credentials of Spanish nativity were themselves sufficient to assure an introduction into the baronial halls or mansions of Merry England. " As tradition tells," he continued, ** there came at that period to take up her abode in that cave a woman, pre- sumably of alien birth, from the manner of her attire, ar- rayed, as she was, in the picturesque robes of an Orien- tal maid. Save but to one were her features concealed. Ere she had been the setting of many suns a resident of that isolated and cheerless abode, which, to the people of that day, was known as the ' Druids' Shrine,' but has since changed its appellation to the ' Sorceress's Cave,' by the tragic events that followed her period of stay, and the story connected with the scenes enacted within its austere interior, the rumor was rapidly spread — though at that early date, when we consider, must have indeed been slow, as news was but verbally transmitted — the statement was mooted among the people of the dis- trict that the woman, beautiful to a remarkable degree, was possessed of wonderful powers ; such only as were thought to be possessed by magicians or persons having preternatural gifts, was there to be consulted by such as were eager to avail themselves of the opportunity to have their future state in life laid bare. At that time," my friend added, ** a youth, the son of Geffory Morrell, was the affianced suitor for the hand of Ealien de Ne- ville, and, as was supposed by the members of the re- spective families, to be on the eve of their betrothal, when, through something inexplicable at that time, an interdiction was placed on the appearance of this youth PREFACE. 7 at Rufus Hall, the home of her father, the Baron de Neville." Chroniclers of the affair, my friend rejoined, in an- swer to my question as to the abrupt cessation of the good feeling existing between the families, that the evil influences bringing about the disruption were afterwards attributed to the machinations of the new-comer or beau- tiful Sorceress, when it was subsequently rumored that a collusion or secret understanding existed, as was then learned, between the Sorceress and one, a nobleman, a guest at the home of the baron-father o( Ealien, to whom the youth Len'ard Morrell had been paying suit, ''And whom, pray," I inquired, ''was this stranger or recipient of their grace who should, in return, afford secret aid to an enemy of the Baron's daughter ?" "There," my youthful companion ejaculated, "was the secret. The guest of the Baron de Neville, as the his- tory of the affair records, was one purporting to be a scion of one of the noblest houses of Spain — a man of vast and unlimited knowledge, coupled with a versatility of character that made him a favorite with the aged Baron, who, dazzled by the stories of wealth possessed by the Count Orlander, the title by which he was known, immediately received him to the favor of his wealth-governed partiality." As we sat there alone, confronted by that rock-reared structure around which some devastating spirit must have circled, whose tread, like the blighting breath of some deadly plague, left bare its circumference as the sterile heart of some drought- cursed desert. Yet beyond the limits of that barren patch Nature seemed to have clothed with her bounteous 8 PREFACE. hand the forest with an extreme abundance of vernal decorations. Around, above, the stately monarchs seemed to bow their leaf-crowned heads in token of gratitude to the gentle breeze that now and again combed out with its passing breath their shaggy brows of green, while beneath their knotty limbs, like sylvan octopuses, bore aloft their fettered arches of pulsating leafage, that nestled securely in each leaf-girthed bower the varie- gated families of songsters, whose members, emitting their caroling notes that seemed to blend in a beautiful madrigal of symphonious song, *' Such as Orpheus must have known, That first inspired his lyre to tone," each vibrating note rising, swelling, trembling, now roll- ing away in waves of limpid melody till their echo re- verberates, to be answered by a chorus of musical throats till the interwoven leaves that canopied the sur- rounding seemed to control, to imprison within that sylvan sphere the symphony of its feathered orchestra — so lost in contemplating Nature, its beauties, the marvel- lous handiwork of the Omnipotent designer, whose care was visible "E'en in the blade of grass, as in the giant oak — All things to him divine, his loving care bespoke." So wrapt, indeed, had I been that I but now noticed the look of annoyance that swept across my friend's face at my seeming disinterestedness in the story he was recounting. Eager to repair or make reparation for this inattention on my part, I hastened to express my regret PREFACE. 9 for the unwarranted indifference. Ere I could proceed further his keenness forestalled my intention. ** Nay ! nay !" exclaimed he, whose name I had learned was Henry Beckwith ; ''what you have interpreted as a look of displeasure was but the expression of wonder as to what profundity of thought or what height of fancy's dream, my friend, your mind was traversing during those moments of reverie." ** Yes, I replied, — ' ' They who the works of God admire Pray in their gratified desire." ** Poetry !" he exclaimed; "but of such an order," speaking, at the same time with a smile to palliate my injured feelings, that the Muses in the shadow of Par- nassus and Mount Aganippe must beat the air in fran- tic madness at this burlesquing of these sacred gifts. "My friend," I interposed, by way of correcting his levity : "Men their language may adorn, But, sir, a poet must be born." My friend laughed so heartily at my apparently cha- grined feelings that I replied, good-naturedly : " A laugh is oft the silent thief That steals the bitter pangs from grief." To this my friend responded : * ' And merriment is oft the soul That drinks from care, fair pleasure's bowl." Now, indeed, came my opportunity to turn the shafts of ridicule. Forgetting for the time my mission there, I lO PREFACE. looked at my companion, who calmly awaited my an- swer. Seriously, as the condemned victim awaits his doom, I waited — paused, maliciously hoping to make the suspense more acute. My companion looked ap- pealingly towards me, as though he would plead for in- dulgence ; but no. What mercy can the criticised, the injured feelings of the aspiring poet know ? Had he not laughed — yea, sacrilegiously — at those supposedly beautiful thoughts that I had woven with the ethereal thread of fancy — that I had nourished, cherished, lest the elusive muse might abandon me ere I had completed the glittering robe that was to adorn the ideal of my brain-created metaphor ? No, no ; a terrible penalty must be exacted. Now was I whetting the keen edge of sarcasm, preparing to mutilate industriously this young man's presumptuous attempt to link his poetical incon- gruities — bowl and soul. Indeed, I were utterly unfit for the confidence of the divine muse did I not grow indig- nant ; unworthy child of hers — never ! Jealousy seemed to harness my soul with a fiery desire to walk through the inconsistencies of his expression ; yea, to furrow up with the plough of satire his beautifully left-out seeds of thought, necessary, yet perhaps as attractive by their absence. Now would I show this young man, who would wriggle in for poetical fame, the naked folly of his endeavor to soar to the golden realms where preside alone the immortals favored by the gods. But, alas, hesi- tation ! Ruin shadows the waiter, disappointment blasts with its seal delay ! How secretly I chuckled inwardly! All was prepared to launch forth in one grand denuncia- tion of Henry's effort to hold even for one moment com- PREFACE. 1 1 munion with the muse of poetry. My friend's eyes briglitened with a mischievous twinkle. I was about to speak, but — woe ! — his words came hke an invulnerable shield that turned, shattered the darts I had so fondly dreamed would stagger his poetical aspirations. " They who to the muse aspire, Who know her not, nor yet her eyes, Are they alone who would desire The poet's gifts to criticise." There was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes as he gazed on me. Little did he know how his words had shattered the temple I had so fondly reared, that was to crush him into an insignificant attempter of rhyme. Alas for human dreams ! Foiled, I would still endeavor to show this newly-acquired friend of mine — " That not in rhyme can beauty live That fails the purest thoughts to give." ** Henry," I replied, with candor, "your words do contain some small percentage of poetical genius ; but," I continued, with emphasis, "Nature designed artfully to create these rocks insensible to words." I looked to see the effect this satire had on my companion, to which he replied naively : ' ' These rocks have not yet colder grown Than hearts impervious to a thrill, That love not when in rhyme alone The role of moral fancies fill." Finding my efforts futile to embarrass this young man, who was vain enough to imagine that he could convert 12 PREFACE. even rocks into his abominable verse, the day well ad- vanced, I suggested he set poetry aside in the jewelled urn of inspiration and proceed to relate his tale of the Sorceress in the more common language of mortals. The day warm, the fragrance of the woodland flowers rising in waves of incense seemed, with their scented breath, to invite our prolonged stay. " Here," continued my friend, "villagers found their way to this cave, astounded by the stories of the witch's power, for such she was called by the simpler folks of that day ; so wrought were they by her ability to show the past and foretell the future that her fame became widespread. " Among those who sought her revelations was the youth Len^ard Morrell, and generally supposed future son-in-law of the Baron de Neville. That, as after events proved, was the inception that led to a terrible tragedy. From the night of the interview his manner, being, ac- tions, all became changed ; the erect bearing born in the consciousness of blooming manhood became the half- crouched, suspecting glide of the brain-racked horror- haunted victim of some fearful phantasy, as though each moment presented some terrible picture, leaving its un- happy victim no respite." **And why," I interposed, *' was it that this singular change took place in the life of the young Esquire, for such I conjecture he must have been." Here my friend's face turned towards mine for a mo- ment as if to intimate he was about to relate something momentous. As Henry's head turned from mine again my eyes instinctively followed the direction of his gaze. There, he spoke, as his finger pointed to the cave on the PREFACE. 13 night of his interview with the Sorceress, was some frightful scene rev^ealed to him, the forewarning of a cruel tragedy, the prophecy " that he, Len'ard Morrell, would murder her, his affianced, on the eve of her wed- ding to another." So impressively had he repeated this portion of his story, so imbued seemed he with a sense of that awful tragedy that must have followed, that his glance lingered, evidently fascinated by his mastery over the details leading to the consummation of that night's scene. Drifting to a state of abstractedness, Henry, ob- viously forgetting my presence for the time, continued to scrutinize interestedly the cave. Can he, I mused, of esthetic proclivities, admiring Nature with vain effort to portray, as only embryo poets can, so far forget the allurements of Nature's beauty now as to allow his mind to ruminate on the weird scenes, the doubtless bloody deed, the culmination of that horror-haunted youth's frenzy — all leading to the enactment of that predicted tragedy ? There as we sat on the fallen limb of an adjacent oak, one sheared from the motherhead, probably, by the same phenomenon that blasted with its withering touch the space before us. I had there ample opportunity to study my friend. After gazing on that face intently, one remarkable for intellectual delineation, his brow the un- mistakable evidence of genius, whether dormant or cul- tivated — evidently cultivated in this student of the events connected with the cave and its dark history. Why this young man should descend into the distressing gossa- mer of that mediaeval event was something that compli- cated my erstwhile smooth-running thoughts. Deter- mined to draw my friend to a closer narration of the 14 PREFACE. results that succeeded the prophecy and its ultimate effect on the mind of the youthful admirer of the Baron's daughter, I inquired if some motive ulterior from the arts she professed to be mistress of had prompted the disclosure of that scene that afterwards proved so disas- trous to the hopes of the youthful lover, '' Few," he exclaimed, " ever learned the secrets of the woman's life." The termination of the fateful event was clouded in one of those shrouds of mystery that so often her- metically seal the lips of all involved. But, nevertheless, sufficient of the story leaked to the outer world to con- nect the youth's earlier life in a love affair with this after- wards notorious woman. ** So," I repeated, ere my friend could proceed with his narrative, "this woman sought by her arts to achieve the annihilation of this youth's happiness by foreshadowing his commission of a crime so foully inhuman, and all, my friend, for the ap- peasement of the basest passion that Nature left its un- fortunate children afflicted with. " *' Not that alone," he spoke in reply, " but to blast the life, the honor, the fame ; to pervert the being of one whose only fault was to possess the love she conceived had once been hers." '* How, pray," I asked, " was she to accomplish this per- nicious task without detection, by at least some friend of her unfortunate victims?" '' By a scheme so craftily laid, so cunningly contrived, so opaque in its integral as to defy the comprehension of all unacquainted with the powers utilized by her to its consummation. The one received by the Baron as his guest," he explained, " was the accomplice of this woman. One pledged to secure by a power, then little understood, the realization PREFACE. 1 5 of her cherished dream of revenge ; one who by the overmastering magnetism of his eyes was to subjugate the will of this hapless maiden, conforming it to his de- sire by what is now known as hypnotical influence, thus enabling the unscrupulous Spaniard to procreate in the Baron's daughter for himself the semblance of a new- born passion of love. So mad became the enslaved maiden's infatuation for him, so blind became her will to his purpose, inciting her in that enthralled hallucina- tion to plead with the Baron for his consent to their betrothal. The prophecy — Ealien's desertion of Len^- ard — the scandalous stories of her shameless amorous- ness for this stranger reaching his ears through the mooted criticisms of the gossips — pointed with terrible significance to his perpetration of this crime by a decree of fate. Thus the unfortunate youth lived, haunted by the shadow of her cruel prophecy, and the inevitable doom that seemed to await him." Deeply engrossed had I listened to each word, Henry quite as absorbed in the story he was telling, with the earnestness of one swayed by the emotion of his own depicting. How long we might have continued to sit on that disparted limb of the woodland aborigine had not the umbrageous mantle of waning day roused us to a knowledge of the fleeting hours, could scarce be gauged but by the interest taken both by the teller of and listener to this peculiar story. As my friend commented on the lateness of the day and the necessity of our adjournment from the forest, the thought arose deprecatingly that from the theatre of its action the story would be un- prolific of interest ; but, alas ! how little was my estimation 1 6 PREFACE. of this my new-found friend, who, on leaving the forest, promised to continue the narrative, giving expression to thoughts which, if not classed as philosophical, must at least by me be dubbed as sensible. " You see," remarked he, as we wended our way through the labyrinth of circuit- ous paths leading from its depths, ** a third character, bear- ing the name of Francois, acting as esquire to this as- sumed Count, made possible the nefarious scheme of Zandi the Sorceress, the name it was afterwards learned she was called by her complots in that inhuman conspiracy." ''What could," I interjected, *' have prompted him to a participation in a plot so diabolical ?" *' It was," replied Henry, '' to win the hand of this notorious woman, when he, cognizant of her pledged affections to his master, sought by an abject subserviency to her will to replace that love by her esteem for his menial conformity to every wish that seemed to gratify her cherished dream of revenge." *' Ah, Henry !" I murmured, " how regret- table that man should grow so base, forgetting the divine mandate of charity, prostituting heaven's noblest gift, seeking to win affections by methods frustrating the design of the Creator." '' Yes," exclaimed Henry, look- ing around admiringly at nature, and speaking as if to himself: " O ! human kind — how less of toil, Of harassed fears— of ceaseless care — Might we of life its grief despoil Did mortals less of hatred bear. ' ' At this resumption of his poetical phrases I halted and gazed at him with an ostensible look of annoyance, yet inwardly recognizing some merit in his smattering of PREFACE. ly poetry. The spot where I stood, as my companion smiled genially, opened before us a scene refreshing in beauty from the homogeneousness one encounters from a sojourn in the forest, the parting sun bathing in its mellowest light the landscape, as here and there the whitewashed cottages, studding the scenery, resembled the home-com- ing at eve of a dismantled fleet of snowy caravels, the waving fields of tall grass giving each the semblance of motion. ''Who would have thought," interposed my young friend, noting my look of wonder at the beautiful scene spread before us, " that these scenes could have been the theatre of such dark machinations." '' And yet," I replied, *' you, whose mind soars to the realms of fancy, can dwell, ponder, yea ! abide in the history of that dark tragedy." ** Yes," he answered in exultant tones, " I, who have studied sedulously its details, learned through chroniclers the unfortunate youth's story, and the inci- dents leading to the eve of his sweetheart's appointed wedding to the assumed Count, the night foretold in prophecy by the Sorceress should witness her murder by the hapless lover, shall endeavor to relate in the vein of a poet's verse, * The Story of Ealien and Len'ard ; or, the Shadow of a Prophecy.' " What commiseration I felt for this presumptuous youth, as he finished speak- ing, my features were loath to manifest ; what poetical dissertation could my friend furnish on such a theme ? Still, anxious to hear the story and test my companion's talents, I determined to reserve my judgment for the present. Leaving Henry for the evening, I repaired to the hostelry of which I was a guest. By appointment we were to meet the following morning, when I in company i8 PREFACE. with him was to visit the scenes incidental to his story. True to agreement my friend appeared, when, repairing to the trysting place, he began by recounting the story of the lovers' meeting. EflLlEN AND LENARD; OR, THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. THE LOVERS' MEETING-AFTER THE PROPHECY, Out in the solitude at eve we stood, While down its opal'd wave the moon's soft flood Upon her golden hair its silver sheen With halo crowned her brow, so calm, serene. I stood enraptured, charmed, like one entranced. On Ealien looked, to smiUng steal a glance ; And though the very calm was sacred now, I saw, enthroned on that bewitching brow, The mirror'd picture of a thought's sweet birth — One from the heavenly clime exiled to earth. That in her unsophisticated mind Found rest in her where love my eyes divined. That look, that glance, her very soul expressed That I, my dream of hope, her love possessed. Soft as the morning lights the eastern sky. And yields the gloom to nature's waking eye, As o'er the sable form of vanquished night Aurora, triumphed, waves her shield of light, 20 EALIEN AND LENARD. So o'er my soul, like waking beams of morn, Her look brought hope, new aspirations born, Wherein, like night, had ruled the soul's despair, Now wakes to find new hope, the victor, there. Like one less fearful that the morrow's light Would seal this as Utopian dreams of night, I clutched her hand as though the very grasp Would link her soul to mine in deathless clasp. Ealien seemed pained to see my dread, my fear. Could I but doubt, she thought, her love sincere. If fear thy stern, grim visage, foe of hope. Could read where guides my love, 'yond horoscope. That silver tenor would, she spoke, but show That fears like thine, Lenard, but groundless grow. "Then pledge we, Ealien," he, eager, cried, "That none but I shall claim thee as a bride." " What new abortive dread now racks thy mind To deem but faithful thou, Ealien, should find ? Has love with thee at length omnivorous grown That rankling thoughts of doubt its flames have sown,. That mocks thy fears, as though impending doom From out the hypothesis of fancies loom. And darkened like the shades o'er summer skies, As if some faded hour thy hope defies ? Have not my pledge, my vows, to thee oft told That thou, and thou alone, my heart could hold ? I saw thy look, Lenard, in that brief space THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 2 I While yet I spoke, of budding hopes give trace ; But transient as the Hghtning flashes' gleam Thy aspect changed like some dark, morbid dream That holds within its realms, where demons lurk, Some dark suspicion's foul, unholy work." " Ealien, could thou my hidden fears divine, 'Twere pity, not reproach, for me were thine. Each hope of love within thy smiles did bask, Not deeming that a soul so fair could mask ; And yet the heavenly myriads, fairer, fell, Where pride had masked in heaven, to make a hell. If from beneath the obfuscated veil That hides, Ealien, the future's untold tale, I could, despairing, here a scene impart. As shown to me by necromancer's art. Yet no ; reluctant now would I disturb, Or by prophetic fears thy mind perturb. Within thy face, Ealien, no look portends The deep, designing craft that, subtle, lends When treachery the unsuspecting soul Would lead to blighted love's despairing goal." As my friend had told of the fears, the apprehension of that harassed soul, with the milder expostulation of Eahen at the groundless birth of, to her, unseeming sus- picion, I had noticed the palpable omission of interroga- tion by the lovers that might have led to the elucidation of the complexities that enveloped them. Thus feeling 2 2 EA LIEN A ND LEX A RD. constrained to remind my friend of their lack of love-like tact, " that to me appeared to be one of the essentials of devoted courtship," — viz., a close questioning for and ex- amination of all looks, words and actions — and possessed with the inordinate inclination to disparage the poetical diction of my companion — " a task equally as simple to my mind " as the criticism of a Raphael by the painter of a barnyard fence. Thus I arranged my satire with due attention to the unsupported evidence of Lenard's suspicion, when Henry, obviously divining my intention, continued, exasperatingly. " You see, my friend," he remarked, " she being unconscious of anything leading to his suspicions, while doubt in his mind, being almost as destructive as conviction, prompted the erstwhile un- suspecting Lenard to relate something of the previous evening's adventure in the forest. LENARD'S STORY. '* Last eve, Ealien, while yet the moon was high With inadvertency my steps drew nigh, And found so dense a wild sequestered place, Where Luna's beam no kindly light could trace Within, so still its dark, enveloped gloom That hushed in breath the stillness of a tomb, Where, canopied, the hooded monarchs rise To hide, with leaf-locked arms, the starlit skies. The stillness reigned, as night's grim satyr there, Till plaintive sounds that mock the silent air — As, ruffled now, the bleak-eyed owl did gaze THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 23 To challenge, with his cries, the devious ways That led me there, in that nocturnal hour, To break the calmness of his sylvan bower. Through night's monitions now my fears averse, To deeper in those strange, weird shades, traverse — Wherein of late have mortals gathered there. And filled with dismal sound the midnight air, With dark, unholy plots, in night's conclave To greet their priestess in her forest cave. And yet my mind, unwilling there to go, Some power, Ealien — yes, hidden — ruled me so, And urged my lagging steps, with unseen hand, To view alone the night's egregious band, And see the owner of such wondrous lore. As she, their priestess, as reputed, bore. Of her they say, though yet of youthful years. Her knowledge, deep, profound, surpass all seers ; That from the future's dark, unfathomed space. With keen prescience, her will its secrets trace. And picture to the mind, from unborn years, Hopes, dreams for some ; yet some, appalled with fears, Might well, aghast, gaze on its dreaded scene. No, no ; her pictures, Ealien, are no dreams." " Thy mind, Lenard, of her doth picture well ! Did she to thee some hidden secrets tell ?" " I did not say in council I conversed With her, they say, so deep in magic versed." 24 EALIEN AND LENARD. '' Alas ! Lenard, thy Ealien reads the truth : This crafty wretch would seal in care thy youth, Within thy heart suspicion's discord set. Lenard, ill-starred the hour that ye have met. They say, in bygone years some bitter wrong Hath made her heart, by subtle passion, long With hate unceasing as the ocean's sweep, Till 'neath her wrong her vanquished foe shall sleep. And yet within the past she, fervent, might Have loved, Lenard, and known not love's requite, And springs of love, converted now to woe, Supply to hate where love was wont to flow." *' From whence didst thou of her this story glean, That one so potent could so wronged have been ? So blends thy sympathy for her with hate. As one conversant with her hapless fate." " Thy words imply, Ealien, that death alone Could expiate by him the wrong she's known. Each thought begets a scene that painful grows Of her I fain would o'er oblivion close. And banish from my mind that dreaded scene That I, as witness of her powers, have seen. If thou, Ealien, the future could divine. Thy love, in constancy, would cling to mine ; Thy heart to me, were all the world averse. Would cling, to break the future's destined curse, Each day, Ealien, where night and night despair, THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 25 Without thy love, Ealien, my Hfe to share. Were I so great, omnipotent, that all The countless sons of men obeyed my call. With all the pomp of earthly grandeur blessed — All, all were vain had I not thee possessed. Thou art to me the fruit of love's first dream, And yet to thee, my love, I constant deem Were all unworthy of a love so pure As thine, who would not chide, and yet endure These dark suspicions that my doubts betray Of fears I apprehend, yet dare not say. 'Twere love to fear, should suitor seek thy hand Who fain with wealth my Ealien would command. Thou knowest well thy father's bitter hate — So deep, intent — hath grown to me of late. Should he but deem that meeting clandestine, Our love yet lived, he would perverse design And plan to frustrate our fondest hope — Futile with him his passion's zeal to cope. Thou knowest Ealien, frail, my eager chance Of thee immured by him to steal one glance. With doubts repelled, alone with thee I rest Each pure unsullied hope, within thy breast — That treasured there, when thou from me are hence — Shall plead for me with love's warm eloquence ; But yet like her, of whom thou didst relate. Can love, when once transmuted, turn to hate. 26 E ALIEN AXD LENARD. Or that on which the eye deHghts to rest, Repugnant grow to wake hate's fiercest zest ? On thoughts Hke these, EaHen, I dare not dwell — O, would to thee my fears that I could tell ! This tongue, Ealien, uncurbed would promulgate The fears my mind would fain obliterate. From whom, Ealien, hast thou her story learned ? Is she of foreign birth, or one returned. That when the lapse of years hath glided o'er, With fell design seeks back her native shore?" ** From one, Lenard, a stranger to our land. Whose brief sojourning here, I understand. Is dedicated, so he said, to find A future mistress, winsome, fair and kind ; Credentials, too, of merit that bore proof. Hath gained him ingress 'neath my father's roof; And now his boldness, Lenard, here presumes That manner born when confidence assumes That garb of self-reliance with proud air, 'Gainst which formalities would hopeless dare To pit the austere champion of its right Anent the stranger's calm, imperious might. Thus such his traits that now he doth reside Within our home, an honored guest, beside Which none so well has ever favor found — His wealth, display, surprises all around And wins much favor in my father's eyes, THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 2/ Whose lust for wealth, too blunt, cannot disguise. It grieves me sore to see him fawning grow, For one, Lenard, that we so little know." " From whence has this nomadic Crcesus came ? Hast thou, Ealien, yet learned the stranger's name? Or knowest thou aught of his previous life, Why he by such strange mission seeks a wife?" "In conversation he my father told His genealogy could boast of old Alliance with the Royal House of Spain, And held high place amidst its monarch's train. Enabled by his father's late demise. With independent right 'neath English skies To roam in quest of one whose traits could bind Her to his love by charms and grace entwined." '' Ealien, has he thee, too, so well impressed ? Or has he aught of love to thee confessed ?" " Why askest thou, Lenard ? Canst thou not trust My love in thee ? Or if, indeed, I must Admit, he has to me already spoken Of a beauteous land beyond the ocean, Where midst its groves his old ancestral pile Awaits the magic of a woman's smile." " And thou, Ealien, unto his tale gave ear ; Does wealth, euphonious, make his charms appear. That each and all should Hst while he may pour His tale of greatness to ye o'er and o'er?" 28 E ALIEN AND LEXARD. " At thy solicitation I but spoke, I thought not, Lenard, hatred to convoke Against this man, when thou his name had sought, As though his very presence wrong had wrought. Could thou hold fear of this strange wanderer's chance ? As if my heart, beleaguered by a glance. Would yield its keys to each impassioned gaze ; To each soft wooing smile its portals raise ? Nay, nay, Lenard, I tell thee now not so ; Could love within my breast so fickle grow Like the treasured shells from the ocean's shore, That, endearing, bear in their opaled core. And murmuring, cling with a subdued lay. And sing o'er again what the wild waves say. My heart, like to them, speaks ever of thee. And I list, Lenard, to its ecstasy ; But it murmurs now of a deep unrest That ominous grows within thy breast." ** Ealien, my mind, indeed, has grown perturbed. Since of this occult stranger I have heard ; Whose presence thou hast said exasperates — Not that alone, to me, but desolates ! And lifts the sombre curtain of grim fear O'er all the dreams, Ealien, I held most dear. The first dread fact to bind to last night's scene, That lowers its dark repulsive form between ; I see again, as she has shown, that bed ; THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 29 But no, its occupant is not yet dead ! Could I, that love thee, perpetrate this deed ? Ealien, I love thee far too well, indeed." " So strange, so wild, Lenard, th}- fancies grow — Confide in me, that I thy love may know. What fear, what dread, unhinges now thy brain ? Thou'rt fancies' slave to act as one insane ; What deed, Lenard, with all thy gentle soul, Did she depict as thine, that fears control And merge in harrowing form thy every thought ; Or has her dark invidious arts so wrought This horrid picture on thy once calm mind That peace or solace now it cannot find ? Tell me, Lenard, have we not loved for years ? Is not my love with thee, to calm thy fears. To neutralize the vaporings of a set Whose warnings naught but sorrow could beget; Who claim to see within the womb of time Each unenacted scene, each deed, each crime ? How simple we that deed to frustrate ! Since she the future did prognosticate. And guard against the evils of that day. Since premonitions mark where pitfalls lay." " Ealien, thy words with reassurance ring ; My soul from dark despair on hope's bright wing Soars far above the dolorous isle of fear. To find thy constancy as ever dear. 30 EALIEN AND LENARD. Panoplied by thy firm love I'll try To combat fears, Ealien, should they draw nigh. What carest I what all their arts forecast ! Thy love is mine and pledged unto the last." **Tell me, Lenard, if some repugnant sight Were witnessed in thy wanderings there last night ? To whom couldst thou, if not to me, confide? To me, Lenard, thy own, thy promised bride ; Whose counsels might, with prudence, mitigate, And with its eager love alleviate Each sorrow that within thy mind doth dwell, If thou couldst but the scenes of last night tell." " When through the shoals that now infest our way Our bark hath passed, and havens lay To harbor in that fair, hymeneal clime, With every hope fulfilled and thou art mine, Unto thy listening ears, Ealien, I'll tell Of these grave fears that now are wont to dwell ; But not till then dare I to thee recite The fearful scenes, the warnings of last night." '* Lenard, with thee in patience will I bear, Till time ejects and banishes thy care ; With love's sweet solace back thy thoughts beguile, And win again my own Lenard's true smile. My father's interdiction cannot last. The storm to beat the wildest soon is past. His anger will subside to thy fair name, THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 3 1 It but took birth since this strange noble came. I know not why, Lenard, but in his eyes Lurks some dark power those orbs will not disguise ; Betimes, Lenard, I fear their searching gleam — Their lucent light, at times, seems lulled to dream Of things abstruse that reasons mystify — Then rests alone on me that waking eye. His manner, though, is courteous and urbane, His suavity is so charming as to gain The envy of our less accomplished friends. Who lack the grace that he to culture lends. Yet, though he does these noble traits possess, Of him I hold mistrust, I do confess. My father with his wealth his manners charmed. Of all, but deep respect hath been disarmed. But in those keen, unfathomed, Argus eyes Some latent mysteries hid, and subtle lies. Of him, Lenard, no jealous thoughts should rise, My loathing of this man makes no disguise." '* By title how is this patrician known. Who in thy father's eyes such grace could own ?" ** As Count Orlander, he is such addressed By they who seek my father's favored guest. And since his advent to our once staid place, Our home of naught but festive scenes gives trace : My heart grows sad amidst its joyous air, To know, my own Lenard, thou art not there. 32 EALIEN AND LENARD. They know not that my heart, unreconciled, Sees only joy when thou, Lenard, hast smiled." " Has he, Ealien — this stranger — sought thy hand, Whose wealth thy father's favor would command ? I realize thy father's greed for gold — Too oft have I of this, his passion, told ; I know his fawning, sycophantic ways. He sees his Mecca where its glitter lays : On Mammon's altar would he sacrifice To greed, Ealien, the jewel he should prize. Oh, wealth ! the dark perverter of our race, Thy slimy toils on every hand give trace — Thou immolator of each pure desire, That dies unhallowed on thy altar's fire." '* Lenard, remember he of whom you speak Would not for me, at least, misfortune seek ; I know a daughter's love — as such I claim The reverence due my father's sacred name. Would not his heart, that loves me well, repine To see the clouds of sorrow ever mine ? You wrong him, Lenard, now, to judge him so. Though much he's wronged thee by his hate, I know : I know with time his anger will relent. And of asperity to thee repent. His feelings, acrimonious yet to thee. Seem fraught, whene'er he speaks with irony. Time modifies ; his anger will assuage. THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 33 When gentle thoughts come steahng to engage, And transport back again to bygone years To one, once loved, whose voice again he hears. That pleads to him in soft angelic tone — * For we, whose love is ardent as their own ' — Their union proved a bliss from heaven sent — Should he but dream of this he would relent." " Ealien, why should he now vindictive be To nurse his contumacious hate for me?" '' Thou didst no wrong, Lenard, whereof I knew, He might believe what gossips say be true That years ago, when thou, perhaps, had grown To think but lightly of its wild seeds sown. Regarding then each deed within the day, That night, succeeding, chased its thoughts away. No weighty matters then of grave import Had on thy youthful mind its sequence wrought ; Then, every hour, as sunbeams on the wave. But lived to greet the swelling hopes it gave. They say thy name was linked with one so fair. That Venus lacked the charms assembled there ; Of humble birth, meantime of spirit proud. With graces of a Dryad's queen endowed, That thou wert wont to bask within her smile ; And she, construing it to love the while, — Though unsuspecting thee of misfeasance, — She knew not then how hopeless was her chance 34 E ALIEN AND LEXAED. To wed with one so far beyond her sphere. In ignorance of this, her love grew dear, Impulsive, passioned, as the stream whose breast Chafes fiercely at its form, by bounds caressed ; Whose sinuous arms its turbulence confine. Her intense love would burst all bounds to thine. That when of thy duplicity she learned, This liaison unenvied scandal earned, That she, distracted in her love to find That thou, between such spheres, wert not inclined To trammel with the love she bore to thee In misalliance wed with her degree. They say her heart was rent, her grief so wild, To hear her once respected name reviled ; To feel how loathed, w^here once her spotless name — In honest deference could their homage claim Where once her matchless beauty reigned as queen — Her name became the foul traducer's theme ; No wonder then that, maddened, she had fled — And rumor, so they say, that she is dead." " No more of this black infamy I'll hear ! They lie, who'd fill thy breast with this grave fear. Who could unto thy father's ears unfold This fabricated tale that thou hast told?" •' I know not now from whence he got this creed He does give credence to its truth indeed ; And when unbridled by an angry spell, THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 35 Too eager is he then this tale to tell. But I, Lenard, with all my powers refute This deed, they would to thee, my love, impute ; I know, Lenard, thou couldst not guilty be To this commission of duplicity. They slander thee when they of thee speak so ; I did avo\v of this, thou didst not know — Hast thou not told me I was love's first dream ; The culprit's eye has not thy candid beam — How could I doubt thy love was wholly mine. Heaven but allows in virtue truth to shine ; No flower the vandal's hand by thee hath known, Or trusting maiden's lips call thee her own. 'Twas solace now to hear thy lips deny The foul invidious tale that they would try To incense in my mind, in hopes to fear And make repulsive, thee, I love so dear. Lenard, for thy own Ealien's sake, to-night Let all thy fears give place to calm delight. If words of mine can cheer thy lonesome heart, Accept them — in the interim we must part. When somnolence hath claimed thy jaded eyes. May all for thee Elysian scenes arise, And extirpate each vestige of a dread That now, I know too well, pervades thy head. May Morpheus soothe thy sleep with tranquil smile. Thy Ealien's love shall live for thee the while 2,6 EALTEN AND LENA RD. No angry father's scowl or loves profess Can make me dream of thee, Lenard, the less. By those bright orbs that festoon heaven's blue I swear ! none else shall share my love with you. Farewell ; and here again at eve I'll meet, With smiles of love, my own Lenard to greet." *' Adieu, may naught between us interfere ; If not, Ealien, again I'll meet thee here." Patiently had I listened to Henry's verbatim of Len- ard's story, w^hich, in contradistinction to his opening Canto, became more perplexing — perplexity invariably setting the seal of success on poetical aspirations if gauged by the standard of our established ideas. Con- gratulating him on the incomprehensibleness of the situa- tion surrounding the lovers ; assuring him that the mys- tification of Lenard's visit to the forest might well conduce to Ealien's inquiry as to his sanity ; when my poetical companion brought me to a concise terminus of effusions by explaining that the Count's appearance, co- inciding with the prediction of the Sorceress, created jus- tifiable reasons in Lenard's mind for his dread of that foreshadowed crime ; his fears augmented by the words of Ealien's song, sung by her that evening to allay his suspicions. Here Henry repeated the words impres- sively, and I, a martyr to his poetical whim, patiently listened : " I thought I saw thee in a dream, I saw thy form beside me bent ; THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 37 In bliss I could but of thee deem, The joy thy love to me had sent ; But O ! I saw thy form grow dim, Thine eyes, reproaching me, in pain I called, and thought that thou wert lost, But woke to find thee mine again. " I thought I saw thy pleading hand Stretched forth, within that dream, to mine ; I saw thee in thy sorrow stand, And sought to place this hand in thine ; But O ! I saw an ocean vast Bear thee from me. I called in vain ; In grief I wept — that dream is past, And thou art by my side again." " Knowing, as you will, by Ealien's own words," he continued, " the mysterious Count had already made in- direct overtures by his blandishments, cogently assisted by the parsimonious favor of the Baron," Here I could not fail to remind Henry that the inexorableness of the irate father was a feature in contrast to the beau- tiful fidelity of the daughter, who, knowing nothing of the incubus that was haunting her lover's mind, gently chided him for his harsh invectives against her loving though at times furious father, feeling that I had there the opportunity of cutting in shreds, by my criticisms, the incompatibility of a sane young man allowing him- self to be urged by some unseen hand into the depth of that mediaeval forest ; when the young poet, surmising by my equivocal reference to the Baron and his daughter. 38 E ALIEN AND LENARD. that I would attempt to work in, as usual, some of my clever satirical thrusts, cut short the delectable dream, as before, by informing me that a second visit to the cave of the Sorceress and his narration of the events that transpired on the night of the Count's visit would relieve Lenard's story of the mysterious gossamer that now shrouded it. By this time the sun having reached its apex in the meridian, the invitation of Henry to re- visit the forest seemed to bring a sylvan-like sense of re- lief from the torrid focusing that relentless Sol was be- stowing on all failing to seek immunity from the effulgence of his gift. On our way thither I was about to question my companion regarding certain defects I had discovered in his poetical rendition, when, being blandly informed that after our visit to the forest as his guest I would find a sufficiently enlarged sphere wherein to satiate my whetted appetite for cavil, ere I could respond, Henry raised his hand as an injunction for silence, and com- menced as follows : THE FOREST CAVE— THE SORCERESS. In the deep recess of a wooded dell. Where its leafy robes luxuriant fell ; Undisturbed by all, save the fleeting hare That wakes with its rustle the stillness there ; Or far above where the oaks tower high To hide the vein in the Western sky, That tinge with gold the sun's soft setting light, Whose yellow robes precurse advancing night — THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 39 Rings through its leafy dome the woodcock's cry To warn its absent mate that night is nigh ; To seek within those bowers a safe repose Ere the darkening shades o'er the forest close. Through the waning light of the day appears — In its midst, where rocks there clustering rears — Cold, cheerless, grim, to mar that fertile zone — As the Druids' shrine was a cave there known. Whose quaint surroundings like a page appears That reads from the past of forgotten years. And here, perchance, some keenly studious sage Had made its weird confines an hermitage ; Or some ascetic, from a world of care. Found there his lone retreat for silent prayer. In this cave-like cottage, whose jutting rocks Time fierce assails, their grim heads idly mocks. Within this strange abode now sat alone The outlines of a woman widely known, And one endowed with darkly-handsome face, Within whose faultless profile one could trace A look so restive, stern — foreboding ill ; — Whose deep-set gaze with awe beholders fill. Those potent orbs, whose corruscating gleam Hath spread her fame, and all her wondrous deem ; And simple folks, once skeptical around. Now marvel at her lore, so true have found Her keen research to fathom all their past, — 40 EALIEN AND LENARD. And scenes now v^erified, her arts forecast — No doubting now, her powers to assail, So strangely on their minds her arts prevail. Amongst them none knew whence this creature came, Or yet hath gleamed this necromancer's name ; But nightly to her lone, barbaric home — When none but troubled minds are wont to roam — Who seeks this wild retreat through forest glade Is one whose heart with deference, visits paid ; To see her now within this lone exile His steps, again, bend to her domicile. He leaves the hall where all in silence sleep. With eager steps he seeks the forest deep — No dread, no fear, that those he leaves behind Will seek his couch, or yet his absence find. What deep import lies in this stealthy act. What scheme now binds their souls to this compact, That he should wend his steps when others sleep And she for him her arduous vigil keep ; Or why should he, the guest of Rufus Hall — The Count Orlander — on this creature call ? Suffice, she waits his steps with anxious care. As o'er her dark imperious brow an air Of anger sweeps — why tarries he behind ? Can he, too, solace in her presence find ; Can she, this Ealien, as some lily grown In nature's garden, every virtue own ; THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 4 1 That 'neath the cadence of her blushless smile All rays of love, as sunshine, tarries while Each jealous mate, forlorn, with drooping head, Like I, forget, with hope forever fled ? Could I forget the past to bury deep The festering wounds that, tireless, never sleep ; That gnaw with cankering fangs this prostrate heart — The bleeding shrine his wrongs hath torn apart ? Rest on, Lenard, and deem thy blushing bride ! Love's captive thine, thy treasured hope beside ; Ferment thy mind with bridal scenes arrayed As though her plighted troth to thee were paid. That in the hour my vengeance seeks thy heart, My eyes may gloat to see it torn apart : To see its temple shattered, rent with grief. Of treasured hopes bereft, and I, the thief Yes I, Lenard, when I had vowed to take A stricken heart to seek that silent lake. From worldly scornings deep within its breast ; There, there, from grief alone, a bourne for rest. What pity grew for me, despised, alone, From thee for whom its hated wrongs were borne ; That form, thy thoughts, conceived within to lie Its cold lethean breast, has scorned to die. Yes ! maddened, duped — from all I loved disgraced — The witless slave to love was I debased : I knew not then that high or lowly birth 42 E ALIEN ASD LEXARD. Held diverse spheres in this fair gift of earth. All castes inspired, from Eden's godhead's mould, Should here the baneful law of class behold, As though the forms begot by village swain Could not, with class, as pure a soul contain. So young to die, I waited, hoped, in vain — Yes, hoped that in his breast there might remain Some inner voice, like whisperings implore, For me he could with love, to joy, restore : But no, his haughty pride no word would speak To check the babbling tongues, who ever seek To goad with poignant cuts the feeling soul, Till pain exacts its bitter, deepest toll. His heart, steeled adamant unto my woes, Made in this breast each kinder feeling close — Abandoned, scorned, to that last sad appeal What sympathy did his cold heart reveal ? These cheeks now tinge to think with bitter shame That I invoked, in anguish sought to claim From those proud lips the pledge to make me wife, I sought but justice for an injured life — Those cruel words, with cold contumely. There dared to chide such bland simplicity. And laughed to say, within the village whirl. My love might recompense some village churl, Delighted, would, with me, his beauteous queen. Perchance, forget what I to him had been — THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 43 And with requited love me compensate For blighted dreams, in love compassionate. Those lips that spoke love's wishes oft to me, And breathed its fervid breath so tenderly, To say that life no promised sweetness knew For him, could I be aught but ever true : And then despise with cold unfeeling scorn Because my rank was simple, lowly born. Dismayed ! I from his loathsome presence fled ; Yielding to where despairing spirits led, I deemed in death alone my breast might ease. The surging winds that stirr'd the nodding trees Like mocking demons waved their sombre plume, To goad my grief-racked soul on to its doom, Where maddened, frenzied, I, like one alone, Whose dimming light of hope at length had flown And sees beyond its shades but grim despair Where sorrow reaps through years its wearied care, I sought that lake, where oft we wandered by. Determined there within its shades to die. Upon its bank I halted, thought of thee, Of thee, Lenard, of thy base perfidy ; Love's dream was past, the spectre rose of hate. Fool ! I to deem for him — to immolate A life unsullied, save it loved too well To list when thy mendacious tongue would tell Of years that loomed in love, o'er time's calm tide. 44 E ALIEN A XT) LEXARD. When I with thee should be thy rural bride. Thus vanished hopes illusive ; form and fate Seemed bitter there my grief to consummate. Deep as the grief the heaven-lost spirits bore That gazed their last on heaven's celestial shore As deep was mine, I saw the earth and then — Would I no more on nature gaze ; then when The home where childhood's fair first dreams arose, To me deemed sullied now, the angered close, For I the envied once of beauties there — The taunter had no kindly thought to spare. Resolved, unhallowed though, this irksome life For hate I'd live, engage, its bitter strife On night's dark footstool 'neath her jewelled dome. Yes, I the derelict, without a home — Hath sworn to curse thy steps, with shadowed hate Soon now thy cherished dream I'll frustrate. Of her Lenard thy love, thou'lt be bereft. Like me, thy guilty soul, with grief be cleft ; About thy life, the gossamer I weave To link suspicion and thy thoughts deceive And make like mine thy bosom racked with dread That scene — last night, thy fairest hopes have fled. I'll crush with scorn thy supercilious pride ! That dared the plebeian maiden's plea deride — I live to see thy vaunted pride brought low — The outcast then — now Zandi, strikes the blow ! THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 45 Down — every thought, of old within this breast, Let vengeance add to hate, its fiercest zest ; Let fury reason now of pent-up wrong, \n callousness my woman's heart grows strong ; Where once the tide of love could permeate, Let freshets now add to its intense hate — That tireless still, this mind shall plot and scheme And make thy cursed downfall, now, my theme. She calmed her passion now ; the storm subdued. With deep concern the lonely cave she viewed. 'Tis strange Barillo lags to-night behind ! Can apprehension fill with dread his mind ? To prompt delay forgetting now our truce Or grow beguiled when Ealien's smiles seduce. Beware, Barillo, mystic chief, I've known, Through all thy arts thy secrets are my own ; While steadfast thou in Zandi hast a friend. Deceptive all the crafts thy arts could lend Would thee forsake in Zandi's triumph hour To pit deceit, to my unfathomed power. What sound is that deep in the woods without ? " 'Tis he," I hear my own Barillo's shout ; Away with fear, I must with grace receive — Through him alone can I revenge achieve. Thrice welcome to this isolated shrine Where night surrounds with aspect saturnine ; 'Tis prudent, too, we here alone should meet 46 E ALIEN AND LENARD. When thou, Orlander, seek my lone retreat. Her words addressed to one of handsome mien, Stalwart, erect, whose form bends now between The aperture, crude, rough, that served as door. His steps re-echo o'er its rocky floor, Her face hereto with passion's storm beset, Seems soothed, since her dark eyes the stranger's met. Apparelled with unstinted stamp of wealth. His swarthy visage bore the glow of health. The broad expansive brow, the wealth of hair, Spoke thought profound, the ruling factor there. With eyes that pierce to mock the carnal veils The inmost thought their deep research assails — As if within the temple of each mind His latent powers the servile child could find To marshal forth their will at his behest ; And reason, slave, fled at that light possessed, His manner, voice, all purport joy complete As stepping forth, Zandi, to eager greet, That creature, wildly beautiful to see Surrounded by that mystic dignity. And with a deference sacredly he stooped To kiss her hand as she with smiles rebuked. Thou'st tarried late, to-night, at Rufus Hall, My heart was troubled till I heard thee call. '* My queen," he spoke, " as o'er the trackless foam, The heart-sick mariner's fond dream of home THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 47 Makes every thought an unseen tie to bind — Each long-forgotten word to echoing — find Within his breast on love's responsive chords The fondest dreams his yearning heart affords, And I, like they on life's uncertain sea Grow fonder in the interim of thee ; The clouds that hide the sunshine from the flower Rob them of hope, like me, each absent hour — That I debarred by this, thy stern decree, From love's requite, till craft and subtlety Shall weave within thy mesh thy hated foe, And she so helpless, too, shall feel the blow." ''Thy heart," she sneered, " in fickle weakness grew,. Since her soft smile could thee so well subdue. Dids't thou not pledge to use thy potent art ? — I tell thee now, these two in life must part. Did I not pledge thee, too, that in return. The love thou sought this task alone could earn ; If from this pledge thy fears would be absolved. Alone, implacably I stand resolved To utilize the powers my arts have brought. Till o'er their ruined life is vengeance wrought ; If for my promised love the sacrifice Were all too vast, unworthy then the prize And all thy vows thy words repudiate ; 'Tis fear, or love, now makes thee hesitate When I with woman's nature, cautious, weak. 48 E ALIEN AND LENARD. Would dare this deed — art thou afraid to speak, Or has the shadow of his anger thrown His retributive vow to cow thine own?" ''To thee, Zandi, provoked, I would reply! The storm-burst of his hate I would defy ; This breast knows fear where cowards have no part — But here, Zandi, beats still a human heart. Why should this creature inoffensive feel The judgment on his wrongs, that thou wouldst deal? Away — I read thy thoughts — wouldst thou conceal From me the love thy heart has grown to feel ? When I had thought reluctance grew from fear — Too well I now discern, 'tis love's revere — For her, that makes thee cavil now to know^ That she thou'dst save shall feel the poignant blow. List, now, I tell thee ere thou saw this maid Not then of sequences wert thou afraid, Didst thou not swear naught could thy will deter, Not though its task imperilled, blighted her ; But since in her thou'st seen much to applaud, Of justice now, thou wouldst my wrongs defraud. Away — no love-sick maiden's heart I bear, But one with deep resolve, this task to dare. No hawk shall cross the vengeful eagle's flight Or dare its perils with the foe in sight ; And thou take heed, lest passion's fickle sway Prompts thee by subterfuge to bar my way !" THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 49 As Zandi rose, the keen depths of her ire Were mirrored by her eyes that gleamed with fire ; Her bosom heaved, as if with tortured dread Her mind some picture of the future read. He met her glance with stern, unflinching eye, As calmly undisturbed as summer's sky ; " Have I," he spoke, "been aught but duty's slave? To thee, Zandi, each nightly call proof gave That I unboundedly thy will observed. And this, the gratitude my love deserved Small recompense to-night, from thee I hear, When harsh invectives jar my listening ear, When smiles devoted could but ill repay This exiled heart from thine, as light from day, Thou knowest well in this factitious part My love lies buried in my Zandi's heart. And yet thy taunts, unwarranted aver That I with love's design was shielding her. The hawk that balks the eagle from its prey Seeks not its rock-bound nest where perils lay. But warns its prey of that impending hour She poises fierce her talons to devour." '' Might not, Orlander, then the cry be found, Mistrusted as those warning notes resound?" "Thy words have such grave import that I glean Thou must, Zandi, Lenard or her have seen." " Love hath its sunshine, too, its fears to share, 50 EALIEN AND LENARD. And thou, Orlander, of Lenard beware ; No idle word of mine could he construe To ill of thee, in that eve's interview. I seek alone, to challenge thy deceit In paths that perilous, make our retreat : Be firm with craft in thy allotted part, Thy recompense shall be thy Zandi's heart. Mark well — but false, and though the Stygian gloom Awaits my soul, that hour shall see thy doom. — Thou knowest well the terms there understood, My heart seeks not with appetite for blood, But vengeance deep, more hideous, mine shall be To blast their fairest hopes remorselessly. To darken sunshine o'er his devious way, With deadly hate his own base pride repay. And when that power, Of which thou art possessed, Shall fill with hallucinations Ealien's breast. When o'er her mind oblivion draws a veil. Upon her insane mind canst thou prevail. Make thou her love so fond, intense for thee — Let all that mad infatuation see Till scandal's wicked tongue with poisoned tip Reviles her deeds in shame on every lip. And simpering menials, at her fawning, sneer Till each invidious tale hath reached his ear ; When from the fount of bitterness each drink THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 5 I Shall lead his hopeless mind to that dread brink Of black despair, he to my youth consigned. In Zandi then, Orlander, thou shalt find A love for thee as boundless as the girth That bore Alcestus* on its wings from earth, When human thoughts to passion's conquest gave That dream of love, to live beyond the grave." '' Can thou Zandi — In whom the dead fruit lies Of love's first dream but lost, not realized — But once can love its maiden blossoms bear — And passion wakes to love's creation there." At this rejoinder through her wondrous eyes Stole a savage gleam, but that calm disguise Wore a veil of smiles, where that angry sweep Herald thoughts from her past, that never sleep. "Thou once wert wont for this same love to yearn, Wilt thou, Orlander, now its proffer spurn. And loathing, turn because thy heart inclines To sympathy for her, my love resigns, Forgetting when a branded outlaw then. For thy m)^sterious arts, from haunts of men, Was I to thy notorious name averse ? Did not my skill for thee with bounteous purse Supply thy need till from its life redeemed, Thy name, Orlander, grew with all esteemed. * Wife of Admetus (myth. ). 52 EALIEN AND LENARD. To all — the Count Orlander — but to me, Barillo, priest of that weird mystery That subjugates to will the weaker minds. Thy secret art so often mortal finds To warp with unseen coil the stifled brain, And o'er its shattered reason fearless reign. But one more victim, she and thy disguise Of virtue, ill befits to sympathize For her sad fate, and vent this feigned disdain. When thou wouldst risk the treasure to retain. Deem not unwise, that I, in this exile, Remain lethargic whilst thy powers beguile. And weave with skill the soft deluding thread That fills in amorous scenes this EaHen's head. Beyond that sphere where vengeance will declare Shall satiate my wrongs, thou must not dare Alliance seek with her, and wedded try The power of Zandi's unseen hand defy. Mark thee, Barillo, I with dread enjoin ! Hope not beyond my knowledge to purloin The day, the hour, when thou with her wouldst wed — ^ Yea, in that hour, thy form with blood grows red." " If thou canst see how all things terminate, And dread fruit grows from thy keen nourished hate, Tell me, Zandi, what doth the future bear, Should I, the hazard of this mission, dare ? That harrowing picture well thy mind hath read, THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 53 In crimson hue to thee this form grows red, That I have sworn no more again shall see The cursed intrigue of crime's iniquity." " Seek not that I the future should divine, Suffice, its omens mark success as thine. From out the deep Arcane of my lore, Barillo, thou shalt learn of me no more." '* Not till from thee the future I shall know, Would I imperilled in this intrigue go ! Tell me, can I the vengeful vows discard That come from this o'er-zealous youth, Lenard ; Might not some scion, angered of her race. Seek redress in my blood for her disgrace ? 'Twere just, Zandi, Should I corrupt the fame Of that more honored than the fairest name. That all the glittering pomp of earth's display — Where Polar night to Solar's brightest ray — Beside the Nakur, pure chaste, possessed Where virtue's holy flame adorned their breast — And hell but seeks from here, the spirit lent. When down to dark Erebus gloom is sent The false despoiler of a woman's name, That flaunts o'er virtue's shrine — a woman's shame." "Thy words, Barillo, o'er the wrongs of yore, Bring back the weirdsome scene, the silent shore, The bitter vow, the future thou shalt know, 4 54 EALIEN AND LENARD. And thou, panoplied, may fearless go." As Zandi spoke and seized with hasty hand A vial (now her form rose sternly grand). One treasured with the odd impress of age That told its past o'er long forgotten page. Beneath the fitful rush's uncertain glare, Barillo, too absorbed a word to dare To break the calm, the stillness of the scene, The hour to him had come at last, to glean If fortune bore to him, and bounteous gave The future hopes that he Ealien might save. *' Save — that his heart, love's votary at her shrine, Might win her by conquest — yes, make her mine. If not o'er her, he thought, I can prevail, I will, with arts, her love at length assail." His keen eye meet her stern inquiring look, As Zandi's hand the slender vial took, And poising in her hand its crystal frame. Allowed each falling drop to seek the flame That from the smouldering fagots feebly crept. Her arms now o'er, in mystic motion swept ; The hour, the cave — could hell the scene compare, And she, as some lost spirit in despair That seeks the portals of some hidden shore And wildly to its inmates sad implore, " Come forth, ye spirits from that hidden clime Within whose vast unfathomed space, there time — THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 55 Evolving from its mists — to ye, revealed Each unborn deed, its measured course will yield." Her voice rose now to almost frantic shriek, " Come forth at my command — your aid I seek !" Barillo, calm, unmoved by her weird cry, Now heard with dread a myriad's tongue reply, From every leaf the forest monarchs bore A thousand tongues in mad confusion pour — Their moanings reach his now affrighted ears ; Zandi beholds with cold disdain, his fears ; ** Art thou afraid," she cried, *' to now behold The hidden future that my powers unfold ?" His eyes regain their cogent lustre now ; Transient as the lightning's flash, his brow Swept from its broad expanse the cloud of dread. Swift as the unthralled spirit leaves its dead. Her taunt, her words, his dauntless courage stung — Fiercely defiant now, his answer rung : " Show all the blackest arts by thee possessed. With howling demons here, thy cave invest Till these affrighted rocks from fear recoil. In trepidation at their dread turmoil — And frenzied all of life, the forest fly — Yet unperturbed will I thy hosts defy." ** Thy courage well sustains ; thou then shalt see ! Behold, Barillo, thy futurity." The falling drops had caught the dying flames ; 56 EALIEN AND LENARD. Again she calls by strange mysterious names — As smoke above the festooned pagan pyre, Barillo saw emerging from the fire The leaden wreaths that wrap in misty shroud And hides her form within the circling cloud. A voice amidst the wreathing temple speaks, *' What mortal in this clime from us now seeks To learn through thee where hidden secrets lay. Thou votaress at our shrine, we must obey." " Yea, I command, the future he would know, The after course that comes ye spirits show. That he may glean the success of our scheme Surpasses e'en Barillo's fondest dream." Amazed he stood ; Barillo's eye beheld A scene on which his gaze was fixed, impelled. *' 'Tis I," he shouts, so deeply wrapt, intent, So eager now his eyes were on it bent. He saw himself rest in a garden fair, And she, Ealien de Neville, too, was there ; Upon his knees her head, so fair, reclined. Her hands rest there, within his own entwined. Those lustrous eyes gaze anxious to his face ; He can upon his own love's passion trace. Her lips they move, he heard distinct the tone, " I am, Orlander, thine, and thine alone. My eyes reveal in love none else but thee, How soon, Orlander, may we wedded be?" THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 57 His soul intent saw none but Ealien there, Unheeded now was Zandi's scowling glare, So deep engrossed, his passion made response : *' Ealien, my own, this heart can love but once ; For thee, Ealien, would I her arts defy — Relinquish thee, nay, sooner would I die ; For thee the blackest arts of hell I'd brave, Should I, in wedding thee, but find the grave." Roused from the scene as Zandi mocking laughed. He starts, blind fool, to Zandi's searching craft. '' Thou playest well," she hissed, *' the lover's part ! Thy words convey the feelings of thy heart." The picture vanished now as Zandi spoke. He looked to see the fast dispelling smoke That love revealed, he saw, but all too late ; Each word incurred, he deemed, her bitter hate. *' Zandi," he spoke, " see how with clever skill I can, while thine, the role of lover fill." ''Take heed, Barillo, in this well-feigned zeal What thou portrayest now thy heart may feel. As o'er yon scene the mystic curtains fall. So must thy stay transpire at Rufus Hall ; Beyond that hour, mark well, 'tis understood The fates decn^e a scene, I see but blood. I know not why, Barillo, but 'tis true, I see the carmine robes in every view That clothe the hours shouldst thou, imperilled, stay. 58 E ALIEN AND LENARD. The night's fast fleeing past, thou must away. Till thou return'st these eyes shall watchful be, And I, Zandi, thy every deed shall see." '* Farewell, Zandi, thy love shall be the prize. For thee Barillo would all sacrifice." THE DUPE. He leaves. From out the shadows quickly loom A figure pale, bewildered, from the gloom. And scarce Barillo's parting words had died. At Zandi's call the figure stood beside And gazed on her with look 'twixt love and dread, Such as we gaze on those we love, when dead. She turns to him with deep deceptive sigh. *' Francois, he little knew that thou wert nigh, Thou'rt faithful more than kindness can requite. And I alone with none to love despite I can o'er all in triumph wave my power. And yet, Diana wearied of her bower. And sought on earth the sleeping shepherd's kiss To feel the rapture of that moment's bliss. Yea, as the flowers turn eager to the light, So could my soul that yearns for love to-night, Turn to a love that would my will obey, And for the prize chase humane thoughts away." Before Zandi he stands with awe impressed, A thousand thoughts surged madly through his breast. THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 59 " Another dupe enslaved to that fell smile — Fool, instrument to serve her vengeful wile." " Dare I but hope," he doubting murmurs now, And looked at Zandi's calm assuring brow, " That I thy slave may hope, yes dare to be. Aspirant for this love, so lone in thee?" The intense thought of passion now portrayed. As he with sacred reverence her surveyed. His furtive glance droops 'neath her potent eyes — He breathes, " Thou wouldst such love as mine despise." " Not so Frangois, shouldst thou me faithful serve, Thou mayest hope my love to yet deserve." " Bid me to task then, I, love's willing slave, For thee to win the verge of death would brave ; But hope to win thee sickens to despair When he, whom now I serve, thy love doth share." " Of his perfidious love thou must not speak, Mine hath he now abjured, Ealien's to seek. No, him I loathe, since he hath vainly tried His vows, for passion's whim, to cast aside. List thou, Francois, thou art his trusted friend. He does, I know, to thee his secrets lend ; I read in all where scheming secrets lie. But his dark orbs, yea baffle me, defy. If thou wouldst serve me well, seek not why I Strange plots should frame, when they I hate must die. Whom I should hate by thee must be abhorred 6o EALIEN AND LENARD. If thou wouldst seek from me love's just reward, Feign methods simple, till thy guileness lures From him each thought thy craft to me secures. When thou for me his hopes shall frustrate, Then shall my hand thy efforts compensate." He stooped to kiss the hand that Zandi gave — *' I am, he breathes, from this thy willing slave ;" And gazing on that strange clad form, his eyes Beamed forth their hopes as she, with warmth, replies : " Who here at morn would Zandi's counsels seek. Shall find herein but echo's tongue to speak. But thou, Fran9ois, of me need have no fear, Zandi to Rufus Hall shall linger near. The time may briefly span ere I thy aid Shall seek to test ere love's requite be paid." As Henry portrayed the inveiglement of FranQois, the dupe, to the dominating will of that mysterious woman in the reprehensibleness of his servitude, governed as it was by a love aspiring to one exerting such a vast influ- ence over his inferior mind, my thoughts converged to a sympathy for the unfortunate Francois, who, having wit- nessed the dreaded power of the Sorceress, undoubtedly fell an easy victim to her wiles. Henry, in rebuttal, rea- soning that the culpability of Francois arose from his willingness to destroy every noble instinct in his devo- tion to her virulent thirst for revenge, too evident, I re- plied : 'Tis not the last, the first step to our fall, That compromits the end beyond recall. THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 6 1 In sauntering back over the scenes of the previous day in company with my young friend, with whom I was to spend the evening as guest, I persistently com- mented on the efforts of the Spanish Count to deceive the Sorceress, and the scene wherein she discovered his clandestine love for Ealien. Had he, Henry rejoined, openly attempted to eschew or retreat from the compact that governed her motives in seeking his aid, she would, doubtless, have disclosed the identity of the adventurer, destroying the hopes entertained by him as the noble guest and suitor for the hand of Ealien. Beyond this explanation Henry repelled my every effort to further discuss the scene in the case. Reaching a quaintly con- structed cottage on the environments of the village, pretty in uniqueness, fronted by a beautiful garden, ar- tistically arranged, ivy surmounting with a mural robe where morning-glories vainly strove to hide the anti- quated appearance of its walls : A home, I thought, as this must be, A refuge of felicity. Entering the portals realized amply my expectation of its delectability. A venerable lady greeted by Henry as mother, after a pleasant salutation, admitted us ; all my pent-up yearning to dissect the value of his story disap- peared in the presence of the beautiful girl " made known to me as Henry's sister" — Antisthenes confused in the presence of Venus — such were my feelings of admiration for her as to entirely obliterate every penum- bra from the perfection of Henry's poetical narrative. 62 E A LIEN AND LENARD. Was he not the brother of this lovely girl — could imper- fection exist in anything she may have approved of? No, all seemed perfect. Cupid already winged his keen- est arrow to my erstwhile invulnerable heart. Eagerly I related to Margaret — such was this divine creature's name — the pleasure I had derived from my short ac- quaintance with her brother, and the unbounded satis- faction I had felt in listening to a descriptive poem he had in part related to me that day. Henry, with a smile, chided me for this dissimulation. After a pleasant tete-a- tete, during which the thraldom of infatuation for the young lady was weaving rapidly its gossamer of roseate bonds, repairing, at the suggestion of Henry, to a neatly- arranged parlor, the company consisting of the Beck- withs and a small coterie of invited friends, anxious to install myself, "for more than the consideration given a mere acquaintance," in the heart of Henry's sister, I pleaded with her in suavified terms to afford me the pleasure of hearing her sing, my young friend coupling his request with mine. Margaret blushingly promised to gratify my wish. Taking her place at the piano, her fingers nimbly chasing each other over the keys, she sang with pathos : O'er the lapse of time when storms Mar the beauty once sublime, Will the sinuous lilies form. Envy then a grace like thine. Will the lapse of years depart Leaving thee alone its trace — Thou'lt be then my own sweetheart, Ever still this lovincr face. THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 63 Years may shed its snow where now Tiara'd with an autumn gold, RippHng tresses kiss the brow « That I now so softly hold. Years may all thy charms dispart, Leaving naught of beauty's trace. Love shall see alone, sweetheart. Then, as now, a loving face. As the notes of Margaret's song ended my heart seemed gravitating closer and closer in its attachment to that fair creature. My musings were checked for the nonce by Henry's appeal to me to entertain the com- pany, remarking with a roguishness : That he, who well would criticise. Must of his talents first apprise. My eyes wandered to Margaret's, whose looks inexor- ably sustained his request. Seeing there was no aper- ture for escape I took my place as she arose from the piano, a martyr to another of my young friend's whims, rendering, as well as my poor voice would permit, a song of my own home, unapproachable in beauty, the peerless Schuylkill Valley : In a valley like an Eden, Beauty finding there her home. Through her fair labyrinths at even, Would I there delighted roam. Through its vale and sylph-like bowers. By the banks where Nature teems. 64 EALIEN AND LENARD. With the richest of her dowers — Where the pleasant Schuylkill streams. There in loveliness abounding Lies a vale soft robed in green. Where the rocks above it frowning Guard the home of Nature's queen. There by stream and Arboretum, Where its gentle waters flow, There alone in beauty's welcome, Can this heart love's rapture know. As my fingers wandered inadvertently over the keys, Henry pithily reminded me that the fervor of my song was antithetical to the spirit of severity I had manifested in the disparagement of the poem he had so far re- peated to me. Here I turned to his lovely sister — she it was that to me spread the mantle of infallibility over the poetical aspirations of the brother. Had silence been golden my lack of criticism of Henry's talents, real or imaginary, that evening would have invested me with the marvelous touch of a Midas, my bridled tongue holding back its unsparing censure as 'neath the protec- tion of this modern Aphrodite. Presumptuous grew the assuming young poet, and I, a mendicant for her smiles, dared but submit a listener's ear to the eulogy lavished on him. Hoping to find some defect in his panoply, I appealed warmly to his mother, urging that Henry, to justify his claim, should improvise in her honor. Henry, by the incline of his head, intimated his willingness to her, who, seating herself by his side, allowed her hand to THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 65 rest in the affectionate one of her son's, the mother and son presenting a picture defying portrayal in eloquence or color. i\ll the deficiencies of the young poet van- ished in the affectionate scene before me. Holding her hand tenderly within his own, Henry, to my surprise, extemporized the subjoined ode : This hand infirm, now trite and old, With a tremor — a legend of love untold, 'Tis not in a theme of yesterday — But a story of years now passed away. This hand, with a tremor as now, With a maidenly smile was laid, To a gentle press in the kind caress Of a hand when her vow was paid ; But that maidenly hand again grew strong With the touch of love through the years that's fled, Yet the trembling hand now guides along Her bark when the helmsman of love is dead. The boatman still may guide her bark — With his love — as it drifts through the waning years. With a hand as strong, he leaves behind — Where the trembling helm of her love may find. In the succor her love had known — Through the years ere his love had flown. And another hand — of his lov^e a part — Shall guide his lost love's lonely heart, And brave for his sake, through the years the tide — Where her helmless bark o'er its sea is tossed. And her trembling hand shall know the guide Of the loved one left — for the loved one lost. 66 E ALIEN AND LENARD. At the conclusion of his soHcitous tribute of love to his mother, one of the guests, an elderly gentleman with a rudely-awakened expression of eye, enthusiastically bounded to his feet, clutched Henry feverishly by the hand, then began disgorging adulatory absurdities. Now this conduct to me appeared unpardonable — he having no beautiful sister to cast her protecting mantle around him, thus leaving bare his sycophantic heart to the cuts of my praise-scoffing tongue. This gentleman, after be- ing the recipient of several of my well-groomed and highly-charged invectives for his effusiveness, politely informed me that, to him, critics were always the object of his aversion — birds lacking plumage or song, flowers devoid of beauty or aroma, parasites usurping the song of the bird, devouring, mutilating, disfiguring the bud- ding plant ere its unfolding petals disclosed the beauty, the incense of its imprisoned breath. After receiving that gentleman's homily with a look of repentance, my meekness being the result of Margaret's look of disap- proval on my conduct, hoping to find a more expedient time to assail the gentleman with the startled expression, I postponed discussion on the merits or demerits of the young bard, the evening passing felicitously, each hour ripening into something more than admiration for the lovely and accomplished sister of my new friend. Scarce could I conceal from myself the spirit of appreciation of Henry's talents that was fastening itself upon me, as the following morning, after a cheery adieu, with the admonition against infrequent visits during my sojourn in the vicinity from Margaret, who had grown so dear in my brief acquaintance with her, and the genial Mrs. THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 6/ Beckwith, the object of so much of Henry's affection, each standing in the doorway of the pretty cottage. As we repaired to what remained of Rufus Hall for the resumption of Henry's story, as we neared the grim remnant of that mediaeval structure, being in truth the relic of one of those baronial strongholds, whose but- tressed walls and frowning battlements yielded immunity to its lordly possessor in troublous times, the dungeons invariably serving as a mode of riddance from disquiet- ing or factious individuals in periods of peace, as w'e drew closer, noting the dilapidated condition of that once impressive structure, the thought forced the conclusion on me that : Mutation marks the regime of decay, And blending ages drifting to the goal — Of time's vast limit — when alone shall stay The flame that lives in man's immortal soul. There in a room of that fabric Henry began. RUFUS HALL— THE BEDCHAMBER— THE COUNT'S SOLILOQUY. The morning arose o'er the night passed by, And the sun with gold tinged the azure sky. From his weary couch Orlander arose With a fitful dream from his short repose. Ah ! deep, he murmured, hath this wrong impressed And mocked with hideous dream my futile rest ! Hath earth no place the guilty mind could seek 68 EALIEN AND LENARD. Where that immortal spirit dare not speak, That men define as conscience, to remind And rack with hell-born scenes the guilty mind ? Within thy state, O sleep ! thou twin of death. Its unremitting light, with fiery breath. Reveals the horror of the culprit's sin. And, like some keen, omnivorous fire within. Consumes the peace that holier thoughts possessed, And haunts with spectred wrong the criminal's breast. The hours, so short in sleep, to me denied Could not the warnings of this spectre hide ; That silent judge, in Eden's fall ordained, • Hath o'er my sleep with fierce, bent visage reigned. Or could it be that Zandi's bitter threat Would in my sleep these fancied scenes beget ? Ah ! well might words like hers my thoughts confound, And with unbridled fears my breast surround. That cave — its hell-created scenes— her shriek, At whose command the unseen myriads speak. I hear as yet, that maddened, sullen roar. Like breakers wild that beat the lonesome shore. Well might I dream, appalled, this blood is cold. That I for her could once affection hold. So base, yet garbed in nature's choice attire, Her words, her look did once to love inspire. That temple, reared as beauty's hallowed fane, Naught can of love in woman's soul contain. THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 69 Hopes, blasted now, in hate have crystalHzed A heart I deemed were treasured to be prized ; But now, Zandi, the shadows deep between At last, Barillo, hath thy spirit seen. As ^olus breathes, when chilled his breath, at eve To blight each petaled throne, each flower bereave Of virgin tints where frozen zephyrs blow, Zandi seeks now in shame to blight her foe. Keen was her glance, her fierce, suspecting glare, When I, Zandi, forgot thy presence there. In passion's burst those words to Ealien strayed : Fool-tricked was I ; each word my love betrayed. Methinks 'tw^as from this thought that she displayed That amorous scene and love's avowal made, That love's spontaneity to such appeal Might symptoms of its hidden flame reveal. That phantom scene her arts conjur'd to lure The secret of that love I deemed secure That beamed with rarer hues when I alone, Through nights of doubt perceived its lustre shone. Yet I had hoped none might its life disclose Till I, by stealth, of Zandi might dispose ; But from those words — To Ealien she must feel 'Twere meet in strategy, not love, to deal With me, since now that love hath ceased to thrill, That made me slave to her revengeful will. 70 E ALIEN AND LEXABD. The truth dawns now why her duplicity Has sought to purport love unceasingly ; That I, cajoled by her delusiv^e smile, Might with my art this maiden's love beguile, And blight this creature's fair, unsullied name ; For her revenge a flower pollute, defame, That she may deal through her the poignant blow That wrecks the hopes of him, her hapless foe. In hate's reprisal, that he took not, too. Her love, forsooth, where he no passion knew ; And I alone who own the art to deal The power inscrutable Ealien must feel When I intrench with it her youthful mind. And o'er her will my own dominion find. And this, Zandi, thy plan, unceasing, sought — Thy every aim that I for this were brought ; That I this power would wield to thy design, Then claiming recompense, thy love as mine ; The price to blot with infamy and shame, And, sullied, garb with doubt this creature's name, For whom e'en now my breast with passions burn, And I to make her mine now fondly yearn, Like flowers at morn that raise their drooping head As from their form the night's chill dews have fled, And wake to kiss the sun's first beam of light. Now sadder hang with dew-drop' d head at night. And weep the loss, their joys that light had known THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. J\ As shadows dark lay now — his rays ha\'e flown — As that loved sun were Ealien's face to me, My hope to win, my aim's felicity, Her beaming face o'er me its radiance cast, But night must have no shadows, this no past. His face assumed a stern but pensive look. I must, Zandi, at last thy anger brook. She deems, in fear, that I her will obey, Lest she the secret of this scheme betray. This brain must work to baffle, now he said. I will of her dispose, then Ealien wed. Her prophecies as shadows but appear When to the light, from gloom, my hopes draw near. I will, Zandi, in truth thy will obey ; In amorous scenes she shall for me display Her love, as witless she, my powers can still Fill her with love by my o'ermastering will. Not to her shame for thee, but reared above This sacrifice — her I eternal love. My scheme redounds to baffle now thy fame, Who sought in hate's redress a woman's shame. Beware, Zandi ; Barillo's scheme now hath No shadows dark to cloud, but thee, his path. He starts to see — A shadowed form that lies Before him — now, a moment, vanished, flies. Swift as the shadow flits Orlander turns. 72 E ALIEN AND LENARD. No mortal there his anxious eye discerns ; Beyond the door Francois, in stealth, had passed ; His gliding form the fleeting shadow cast. Could that, Orlander murmured, fancy be That framed yon shadowed form's dark effigy? Or hath this spectre here my steps pursued Where falls my whispered tale in solitude. To weave, at her command, the hidden toil That would, to wed Ealien, my scheme yet foil? Curse her ! he hissed ; I will her arts defy And baffle, though her demon hosts were by. With hasty touch he wakes the tiny bell ; Soft, clear its note as weeping fountains tell, With silver tongue, where crystal pendants flow And leap to kiss the mirrored pool below. Scarce had his hand its silver echo woke, Prompt as the summoned genii, Francois spoke : '' I have, Senor, thy call now heard, and here. As one devoted to thy will appear." '* Thou art, indeed, a slave at duty's shrine. And I, Frangois, know well such worth as thine : Guileless, unshrewd, by candor bounteous blest — All merits these, and, too, by thee possessed." " Such praise, Senor, would but me more enslave To one who has to me distinction gave." *' Does yet, Frangois, the hall with life bestir?" '' It does, Senor ; I did but now confer THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 73 With one without, and as we idle talked, Superb in beauty by his mistress walked." '' Did she, Francois, seem more than passing fair?" '' None have I seen, Sefior, that could compare." "As she ye passed did aught his words infer That I, as wooer here, in love sought her?" *' He did of thee in whispered tones comment, That thou to win her hand and wed were bent." " To thee, Francois, I will alone confide My hopes, my dream, to make Ealien my bride. And Zandi, she who with us hither came. Thou must, to serve me well, impeach her name. Of leagues infernal, here — where doubts abound — In whispered breath tell all a w^itch thou'st found. Till passions swell in breasts that dormant lie. She may, Frangois, amidst its vortex die. Her from my path," he hissed, '* none can deter When I with hidden power, enslaved, hold her. Ealien, Frangois, shall then be mine alone. Not to debase, but her as bride to own." *' Thy wish, Sefior, to me his wills concur. And Fran9ois now shall rid thy path of her." As Henry concluded his iteration of the Count's monologue and the simulation of Frangois in his proffer of compliance with the Count's scheme to win Ealien, first removing Zandi from his path, I began to feel a sense of repugnance for the name of that wretch who 74 EALIEN AND LENABD. could so well dissimulate. As we had previously visited the trysting place, Henry enjoined me to listen to the story of Lenard's grief, his apprehension arising from the long absence of his sweetheart. THE TRYSTING PLACE. Night after night in vain I wait, Faithful yon jewelled orbs appear, The sighing winds compassionate. But her soft smile comes not to cheer. The fears that slept within my breast From apathy tumultuous grow. Through harrowed nights of doubt, no rest Till I, Ealien, of thee must know. Ye gems in yon empyrean crown ! That light the haloed brow of night, Should ye upon her path look down, Lead her, ye gems, back to my sight. Could virtue live if she, so fair. Who's pledged to me, here last we met, Could lull with smiles that angels bear — My fears, and then her vows forget. Yet, Hke a spectre to my mind Recurs this necromancer's tale. Each hour engrossed, to deeper find Those scenes depicted, me assail ; And fancies mockingly repair THE SHA DOW OF A PB OPHECY. J $ To that dread scene where EaHen lies ; Fool I, and maddened in despair, With brutal hands suppress her cries To murder her move not ye winds ! Your sightless wings this tale might steal, Ere echo back could now consign This awful secret I reveal. But no ! 'tis false, I dare not think She could to me perfidious grow ; Appalled, I from the thought would shrink, That hag's monitions brought me woe : Ye gods ! had I not seen her there. With powers none human could possess — Where shrieking legions fill'd the air Obedient to that Sorceress ; My mind could banish from its realms Her murdered form, ere she his bride — The thought that hourly overwhelms And haunts with spectre such, my side. Since that dark night of horror I Again, in vain, this creature sought — Since thou no longer comest nigh, To her, with grief and fear distraught To learn if they thee obviate. Or thou, self-willing, shuns my sight, While I with hopes expiring wait Thy advent here, my love, each night. ^6 E A LIEN AND LENARD. Futile my search in forest, when This nocturn prophetess had fled — In that lone cave no denizen, Where she that night my future read. Could I but see her now, and she In mercy could this racked soul tell Unfounded, base, her prophecy — Ye gods ! this hour's dread fears dispel. That she by arts conjured that scene. That foul phantasmagorial rose That night, and swear 'twas false, Ealien Would not by me know death's keen throes. And yet, masked priestess, did not she Of him, this Count, to me reveal That Ealien would unblushingly Her love for him from me conceal ? He, favored guest, Ealien, not here — How strange — her dark monitions bear Their truth, since Ealien insincere, Seeks now, perchance, his love to share. But by yon stars ! by them she swore That I alone her love possessed : This heart shall cease and beat no more. Ere she shall couch another's breast. What ! am I mad to dream Ealien Could see love's smiles and I not nigh ? Could love's soft blushes hide unseen THE SHADO W OF A PROPHECY. 77 And mask in smile's deceit her eye ? No, no, Ealien, these eyes must see Thy perfidy, thy guilt, ere I Who love thee deem but pure of thee ; Her hariolations I defy. " And they who would have proof must seek, The drone marks not as summer flies. The fairest flowers but fragrant keep, Where pure unsullied virtue lies." Each word in bitter tone came forth From out a clump adjacent by, Where towering elms cast o'er the earth Their shadows grim, like giants lie. Lenard, first startled by the tone, Grew furious now ; they had then heard Who back responded to his own, Each thought re-echoed — this inferred. Towards the brush with angry stride He rushed with poniard now in hand. Come forth ! he shouts, but cowards hide ; Fierce rang his words at my command. His face a startled look revealed To see the Sorceress standing there ; That figure now he knew, there veiled — Garbed she as Islam's daughters wear. " Why thus surprised, Lenard, and start As though uncalled I did appear ? yZ E ALIEN AND LENARD. I heard thee importune my art ; At thy request alone I am here." ** What need to hide ?" Lenard repHed, " From thee who can all things discern, In vain through forest deep I've tried Of thee, mysterious one, to learn." ** Why shouldst thou seek of me to speak ?- Time will to thee all things portray, And her of whom thou'd learn and seek My arts were loath now to betray." *' No innuendoes to my mind Illicit thoughts of her convey, Till proof, thou prophetess. I find ; My heart her love could not gainsay. Didst thou not say the idle drone. That garners not when summer flies. Neglects the treasure they would own, And vandals pillage virtue's prize ? These words, momentous, grave must be, To intimate that I, the drone, Who basks in thy analogy. Till she, Ealien, from me has flown. To thee w^hose dread research has told Of what is not, and yet to be. Who did this direful end unfold — Have I, strange mortal, friend in thee?" " Thou hast a friend in me to share. THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 79 And one to make thy deeds her own ; Mark well, Lenard, I will not spare To make thy feelings those Fz'c known." Unconscious of the scorpion's sting, Her hand, in gratitude, he grasped. ** I w^ill thee to thy Ealien bring, Since thou, Lenard, my aid has asked." *' If she within its walls confined — Inveterate still her father's hate, How can we to her ingress find, Where bars our way its frowning gate ?" ''Ask not of me, whose power can lead. No gates my entry there shall close. The hour now waxes late indeed, And thou, I know, impatient grows To see her eyes denote surprise, To see her bound with joy to greet And clasp thee, as her smothered cries In ecstasies thy name repeat." The night with balm soft kissed the breeze. From fragrant blushes, Flora slept, Like wearied Titans hung the trees To shadow' d sleep, whereon they stepped, That led, Lenard, O, who shall say ! With doubt or effervescent hope. To yon grim walls that would betray Her sin, or joy's fair portals ope. 8o EALIEN AND LENARD. In strange companionship he strode O'er paths his feet were wont to tread When she, whom now he sought, he wooed. And beauty, passion's flame, had fed. As nearer loomed its walls in sight Her voice broke on his reverie — *' Illumed, Lenard, the hall to-night To me seems wrapt in festive glee ; Some banquet here, or knightly dance Makes merry mirth within its wall, And thus begets an easy chance For our admittance to its hall. Thou follow me, we must, concealed From prying eyes, still linger here. Subservient to the power I wield Aid shall, at my behest, appear. See, now comes one, yon figure there. To serve as ally in our need. To see thy Ealien, now prepare. And follow thou where I may lead." " How strange," mused Lenard, ''she should find Auxiliary within that hall — That some mysterious tie must bind To summon at her unheard call." THE GARDEN— THE SNARE. Back from the terrace Lenard stood Unseen by those who passed along THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 8 1 And wondered why the evening should Converted be to fete and song. He knew there was not wont to be Those rehcs of a sumptuous grace ; This guise of prodigaHty Suits here but ill, De Neville's place, That they should honor, Lenard said, 'Tis meet of whom, that thou shouldst know — Since they at thy command here led Would thee acquaint of, that I trow." " Move not, Lenard, this group draws near, Now deeper in the shadows turn ; And news, perchance, we then may hear, And thou of her, thy loved one, learn." From where he stood his eye could see Where stretched the green-robed sward around, And garnered in their rustic glee, The rural's joyous dance abound. These lawns so long neglected now Wake like a dream from Flora's bower. When Midas touched her sleeping brow. And gold-hued rose the primrose flower ; Still here where love might build its throne ! And close from care its raptured eyes, A dread, a fear, before unknown, Of some impending dangers rise. '* See now, Lenard, they nearer draw !" 82 EALIEN AND LENARD. 'Tis Hugh de Neville now that speaks ; *' And see, 'tis her — yes, there I saw ; Thy Ealien, now, this Spaniard seeks." With angry gesture now he turned — '' What meanest thou by him she seeks ? Thou dost but prattle, thou so learned, As one unwise, that witless speaks." Had he but seen beneath her mask. At his retort, her cunning lear — Hate deep, inveterate, there was cast That prompts her now bid him to hear. ** Father !" the words " he is my choice " Reach Lenard's ears — his fears have flown ; " Hear thou, defamer, Ealien's voice ! Proclaims for me her love alone," *' Be calm, Lenard, they now confer. Thy hopes aspiring still rejoice — " Ignoring Zandi, wrapt in her. He hears again his loved one's voice. Father, none other shall me claim But him, she speaks, who now is nigh. **Then," Lenard whispered, 'Move's proclaim Tells her in truth, Lenard is by." My child, he hath but now arrived — De Neville spoke — to greet his name I have with wealth unstinted, tried To honor since to us he came. THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 83 '^ How, generous soul, have I misjudged — With imputations have I told Of selfish deeds thy greed adjudged, And deemed thee slave of Mammon's gold, But now I will myself reveal. And here De Neville's pardon seek, Since he for me can kindness feel — Long have I sought this hour to speak." With joy enraptured, uncontrolled, Lenard would rush, yea ! grasp his hand — ** Be not," the Sorceress murmured, "bold ! Ere thou their converse understand." '* And thou wouldst here my will deter — Thy shadow, now, my hopes surmount;" '' 'Tis not of thee, fool, they aver — " Spoke Zandi — ''but of him, the Count." " Thou liest, hag ! now to her side — I rush untrammeled now, by fear. Fool were I here with thee to hide. When they avow that I am near." Lenard prepared to leave where he Ensconced had been in secret by, He hears Ealien's voice joyously, And deems for him her welcome cry. He starts, then halts, in dread amaze. As one transfixed, he saw her press. And there before his maddened gaze Rush joyous to this Count's caress. 84 EALIEN AND LENARD. ''Thou hast," he cried, "the truth revealed, Thy hariolation did not He ! Yet why shouldst thou here seek, concealed, That I to witness this were nigh ?" His fingers clinched, the hot blood rose, His brow grew dark in passion's storm — Could grief augment his bitter woes To see her hands caress yon form ? His hand sweeps painfully his brow. As if this scene he would erase. Ealien, thy form grows loathsome now — Thrice, thrice, he cried, is she debased. And turning to the Sorceress there, Though bold, she shudders at his sneer. *' Was it — thou incarnated heir Of hell — for this thou'st brought me here?" " Be calm, Lenard, see how she fawns. And toys with him in love's caress ; Because for him thy love she scorns Thou shouldst not love her yet the less." *' Love her the less ! Wouldst thou deride And mock my grief, that I should be Enamored of this thing beside — Pales with a blush duplicity ? Thou canst have never loved as I Or felt," he cried, " as I its trance, Then see its hopes elusive die, Yea ! fade like mist, before thy glance." THE SHADOW OF A PBOPHECY " Hear her for love appeal to him," Zandi retorts — "thy past peruse ; Does not some shadowed spectre dim — Some blighted life — thy heart accuse ? Go thou to her, thy Ealien tell Of one once fair, like her, now lies Where o'er the shrouding waters fell, Whose spirit now for vengeance cries." " Witch that thou art, as impious liar ! Thy breathings here now vilify. And secret agents would conspire To link with me this odious lie." " Go ask thy Ealien — there may know If she of thee this tale disdained, Her love for him may better show Wherein of truth this lie contained." His keen eyes, anguished, sees Ealien With hands there by the Spaniard clasped ; '* Has then these lies infamous been By thee so told ?" Lenard now gasped. **Thy presence like a blighting breath Around misfortune seems to weave — Thy visions, prophecies of death. Shall now no more my thoughts deceive : Thy powers may of the future read, Thou liest, hag ! now, of the past — Should she believe of me this deed, 86 E ALIEN AND LENARD. 'Tis thou who would our future blast ! From thee the veil I'll rend, and there Shall she the false defiler find." Ere yet he could her visage bare Fast clutched were Lenard's hands behind ; He struggles now, he writhes in vain, His swaying form his captors hold ; He battles fierce to freedom gain. And Zandi's bitter smiles behold. "Is this," he shouts, "thy hellish work," To be by thee inveigled here, Where cowards base in secret lurk. And slaves of thine, to seize, appear?" *' Drag him to where De Neville stands ; He came," she cried, ''on murder bent, Ye found this dagger in his hands And heard him speak of such intent." Amazed, he sees how craftily — Yet why, he reasons, here her plot ; '* Why thus is marked thy enmity For one," he asks, "who harmed thee not?" They drag him forth, yet struggles he, The witless victim of her hate — "Were I," he fumed, "ye cowards, free. Ye would for mercy supplicate." Unheeded they his angered vow — He looked to see — Zandi had fled — THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 8/ His captors force him onward now ; *' We know," they muttered, "what thou'st said." The crimson mounts his cheeks to bear Before his rival there the shame. The loathsome stigma, prying there That he by stealth to murder came. As the young poet's narration brought us to the seizure of Len'ard and the forcible means by which he was dragged as a culprit before the Baron de Neville " at the instigation of the Sorceress," my mind concluded that the mysterious woman had some deep-laid scheme whereby to inculpate Len^ard ; but, as my friend stated, " I would learn her motives by the result of the Baron's decision," THE PLOT. "Whom," speaks De Neville, ''have we here? Come, brawler, thou must have a care. Thou wouldst partake of our good cheer. And quarrel in our midst wouldst dare !" " No common brawler, sir, is he," Spoke one, Francois, but with intent ; " I heard him say behind yon tree. To murder here, the Count, he meant." *' 'Tis false, De Neville," he exclaimed. As o'er his face the torchlight shone ; '' This wretch hath here a lie proclaimed, One by a witch he must have known." 88 EALIEN AND LENARD. Each start as Lenard they behold. '* So thou in secret loitered near?" De Neville speaks, " since he hath told We marvel not why thou art here. A witch's lie ! in sooth we might," De Neville sneers, "thy tale believe. But thou proscribed here shuns the light. Would of thy motive us deceive. And seek by murder to regain Her love, whom now betrothed, thou'st found ?" " And, sir, by stealth we did obtain His dagger as he watched ye round." Thus interposed Fran9ois again. " Suspicious first, alarmed I grew. That he the Count would here have slain, Had we not brought him, sir, to you." De Neville's eyes burn fierce with rage As Lenard calmly made response : '' I do admit by espionage I sought her who had loved me once ; I came not here with fell design, Or yet impelled by rival's hate. A treasure here I deemed was mine, I thought, repined disconsolate. Repined, yes, for the love we find. When soul to soul, through mirrored eyes. We see reflections there that bind. And link the souls in deathless ties." THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. As Lenard spoke his eyes had sought, With pained expression, Eahen's face, But in those eyes no mellowed thought Of sympathy for him gave trace ; Cold, soulless, there no feelings gleam, Yea, sickened, dies his last dim hope ; '' My God !" he cries, '*is this some dream ! And ye but phantom's interlope? Speak thou, Ealien," he madly cried, Then bounds — a Trojan in his wrath — To Ealien's timid, shrinking side ; He sweeps his captors from his path. He kneels, unconscious of each scowl. To seize her hand in frenzied zeal. ** They do, Ealien, my name befoul That they from me thy love could steal ; Let here," he pleads, ''thine eyes may tell Unchanging lives thy love of old — A word, a look, my fears dispel, Let me, Ealien, one smile behold. Each pledge to me, of thine, but think, Engrafted lies within this breast. But thou," he cries, " dost from me shrink, As though thou didst my form detest." " I know thee not," Ealien replied. Stung by her words that mock belief, Recoiling back when hope had died — He stands, despair's lost child of grief 90 EALIEN AND LENABD. ''She knows thee not," De Neville sneers; ''She will, Lenard, the Count, soon wed." In horror, now, each word he hears That she — that witch prophetic — said. Again in fear recurs the cave ; He sees where Ealien strangled lies. " Come, death, thou canst from me her save Ere by these maddened hands she dies !" Swift as the eagle swoops below, When to his prey the monarch lowered — As fierce Lenard, ere yet they know, Assails and wrests his captor's sword. His towering form, majestic now. With fierce gripped sword defiant stands ; Dark as Ahriman's* pall his brow. Why maddened thus none understands. " Come now," he cries, " ye cowards, see How Lenard here can fate defy To save her — yet unworthy, she. Now thou, or I, here, Count, must die." With wild impetus Lenard sprang To where alert the Spaniard stood. " Come, thou or I " — his w^ords now rang — " Must dye this esplanade with blood." Like torrents stirred by tempest's flow That leap before the storm king's track * The Persian Spirit of Darkness. THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 9 1 Lenard rushed madly on his foe, Who sternly waits his fierce attack. Swift as the playing of each flash That spans in flaming breath the sky — As swift as they, their swords now clash. And blanch the cheeks of all stood nigh. Like one, Ealien, that stupor owned — She saw but him who holds her will, Oblivious of all else she moaned. And shrieks, "he will Orlander kill !" Back, back, the skillful Spaniard stepped, Pressed now by Lenard' s furious blows. His master-hand, to arms adept, Turns each, as each now faster grows. What power can stay that mad assail That fury to his skill had sent? Orlander's strength seems fast to fail As frenzy more to Lenard's lent. '' Now, at thee, dog ! and thou wouldst wed," Lenard in husky tones now hissed, " The grave shall be thy wedded bed, To it this sword shall thee assist." Alarmed, De Neville anxious cries, " Take thou, Fran9ois, and wield this blade. Stand not while there thy master dies — . See how, distressed, he needs our aid. And thou who captured him as well. 92 EALIEN ASB LEXAED. Charge all, ye cowards, stand not here ; His prowess o'er the Count will tell. Wilt thou not, Frangois, interfere?" ** Master, the Count his own w^ill hold, He yet but feigns a lack of skill. Curse them !" he breathes, " I could behold With pleasure each the other kill," De Neville saw how feeble grew Each moment, now, Orlander's arm ; "Will none," he cried, ''that wolf subdue ? Dare none Lenard Morrell disarm?" Now round the combatants they closed, Each fain his valor would attest, Yet none so valiantly disposed To press beyond where grouped the rest, Till at the sound of Ealien's cry They see Orlander's shivered blade — Lenard' s revengeful sword on high. And 'neath, the prostrate Spaniard laid. His features bore no craven's look, His eyes told not of fear's despair ; Of her one anguished glance he took — Ealien, his hapless victim, there. For her his scheming soul had dared To blast her mind, till in its gloom His passion might with her have shared The blind love of that living tomb, THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 93 Lenard, the victor, o'er him stood, Fierce, panting from that bloody fray ; His comely face begrimed with blood, He holds, with fear, his foes at bay. '' Why falter there ? Are ye afraid ? When numbers fear, then valor pales. Ye have, ye cowards, tribute paid To courage, yet ye find it fails." Then, pointing to his fallen foe : " I would," he cried, '' have mercy shown ; But, no, to save her, thou must go. Then me these vultures here may own." And men now shuddered, turned their gaze From that dread crime to be achieved, When, lo ! some saw, with glad amaze, Lenard's uplifted hand now seized. De Neville, panther-like, had crept, Unseen, to where, with sullen cry. He leaped, that blow to intercept. "■ Not by thee, Lenard, shall he die." De Neville's frame, senile and weak. Before that vengeful arm is bowed. To aid the Baron fast they seek. Whilst round Lenard retainers crowd. A dozen blades menace his breast ; Like hounds in at the death they close. Orlander, by his wounds distressed, 94 E ALIEN AND LENARD. With dark, revengeful look, arose. His dagger from his girth he seized, His eyes blaze now with threatening glare. Lenard, defenceless, now perceived A strange o'ermastering power there. " Now make thy peace," Orlander hissed ; " Not I, but thou, the grave shall wed. To murder here thy aim hath missed. Fool, this redounds to thee instead." His dagger rose. " None here," he cried, '* Can thee now from my vengeance save." ** Strike deep, in death," Lenard replied; *' No phantom scenes invade the grave." Swift as the aerolite his blade, That, gleaming, now seeks Lenard's side. " Hold !" rang a voice, and, undismayed, Zandi his arm now struck aside. *' Back, fool ! Wouldst thou my will defy ?" In awe, from her the boldest drew. '' 'Tis she, the witch," alarmed, they cry. Who'd seen her powers, though veiled, her knew. ** His life is mine, and thou, beware ! Thou shalt for this to me atone. Let him, despairing, live to share. In grief, the wrongs his past hath sown." " Base liar ! hag ! I know thee not," Lenard. with fierce vehemence, cried ; THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 95 '* But thou, with schemes that craft begot, To ruin here my name hath tried." Orlander, baffled, now recedes. '' Curse her !" he breathes ; " her presence here, Since she for him, her victim, pleads. But garbs her hate in scheme's veneer." "What creature," Count De Neville asked, " Is this that doth thee so abjure. And thus assails with presence masked. That thou must needs her threats endure ?" " I know her not," Orlander spoke, *' Unless by her reputed lore ; Some of these guileless village folk May of her deeds than I know more." '' I speak to him to have a care, As I, De Neville, speak to thee, As one who reads the future dare Unfold its direful prophecy. The future doth evolve in red A scene wherein thy child appears, And blood in every line is read — Its picture fills my soul with fears. Do thou Lenard a captive keep ; There, in the dungeon's loathsome air, Let him o'er past transgressions weep. Mark well ; Lenard is safest there. And thou, Orlander, Count of Spain, 96 EALIEN AND LENARD. Unciphered still is that decree That rules thy fate ; yet here remain, And hate shall track thy perfidy." Lenard stood mute, till to his mind Came, from her words, that scene again. " Thou witch !" he cried ; " thou wert ill-timed. 'Twere better far that I were slain. Who art thou, hag ? Thy every bent Seems doomed my haunted life to fill — That fate remorselessly hath sent Its curse that I Ealien shall kill." " My daughter kill !" De Neville screamed. ''Thou wretch, when we, in mercy, spared Thy life we then but little deemed That such our clemency had shared." " Hear me, De Neville, hear my tale. Then thou some humane thought must feel ; For one whom prophecies entail Hath curs'd till here I must reveal." *' Away with him !" De Neville fumed ; '' He would offset yon woman's lore. Till ye are wed. Count, he is doomed ; A cell shall curb his passion o'er, And thou, Fran9ois, for him to me Shall I of thee hold stern account. Should he regain his liberty To harm thy master here, the Count." THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. g7 " Since ye in me so well confide, While here my master shall remain, None shall but they who aid beside. An ingress to our captive gain." " Come ! come !" — his captor's harsh rebuke. As Lenard gazed on Ealien's face. He meets but there its stony look ; Her form turns to the Count's embrace. His soul within sinks as she pleads With him, his rival, her to wed. '* Fools !" muttered Zandi, " who of deeds To-morrow's plans ere this have fled." Unconscious there of all her save, " Ealien, my love," he made reply : " ^OY thee Orlander death would brave." " Ere that," breathes Zandi, "she shall die." The evidence of her motives became tangible in the commitment of Lenard to a dungeon of the castle. Yet why not, this hero, valiant enough to hold that inimical assemblage at bay, fearlessly denounce that woman, re- peating her prophecy, thus stultifying her prediction, the anathema of which had been slowly leading him a slave to the belief of that inevitable doom ? The efforts of the unfortunate youth, Henry reminded me, were made fruitless by the appearance of Zandi and the fear in which her monition was received, to confine him a prisoner to prevent his perpetration of a terrible deed. " How well she succeeded," he said, "future developments in my 98 EALIEN AND LENABD. tale will illustrate." "Yet," I repeated, in response, "the woman's action resulted in removing from the Count's path the only obstacle to obviate his success in securing the hand of Ealien, she being a helpless victim to the wonderful influence of his will." "The pernicious mas- tery of her power," he continued, " will become more visible in the part I am about to relate." THE PRISON— THE CAPTIVE. Within the cell the dim light crept ; The last pulsating throb of day That beamed its ray ere night had swept Its sombre robes where gold now lay, And stealing through a niche that, high, Scarce lights the sepulchre of stone, And lingers there as if to die With him, its sad inmate, alone — Alone in grief — as fitfully He paces now its noisome floor, And sees, in wild despondency And baffled hate, its massive door Hushed as the still that guards the tomb When midnight hour its warnings beat, No sound save in that dismal gloom The tread that tells of restless feet. He paces on with gloomy brow ; He halts, he thinks, and here to find, THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 99 He mutters, she I love, but now Hath Hved the basest of her kind. To me in day the sun's soft Hght But warmer grew when she was near, And she, debased, laughed on that night — Yea, scoffed at my prophetic fear ; And she, reviling truth till there — A lie so foul, infamous, swore, And called each star to witness bear Her love was mine still as before. Could they, he moaned, have chastely kept Their vigil, and, unblushing, see Her sin, as I of fears bereft Drank hope from her pledged constancy ? No, they, he murmured painfully — Ethereal jewels of that land That beareth truth, her sin could see As I, fool, grasped in love her hand. To think so false — as there — her thought Wing'd then to him in love away, As I in pleading voice besought The pledge that would my fears allay. And she with vow undying pledged Her love alone that night was mine ; That witch, she pleaded, false alleged. Did she the future else divine. Is this, he cried, her pledge fulfilled ? 1 00 EA L TEN A ND LENA ED. When I, imperilled by their hate, When they her Lenard would have killed- Did she for me compassionate ? Can all her thoughts of me be dead ? It wrings my soul her treachery, 'Tis maddening chaos to my head ; That lie so vile — she knew not me. I curse them all ; but for this chain That galling binds me now behind, Yea, death would I here brave to gain. That she, ere his, I yet might find. Within these walls, to pause, to think, A phantom mocks me from the grave, And she, their Agnes on that brink, Aye becks me on, and none to save. But she is dead ; why haunts me she ? Her haughty soul and passion thought Might there achieve to wed with me The aim her proud pretensions sought ; When to her pleadings I affirmed That I with her could never wed, With grief when she was dead I learned — She died despairing, when she fled. Away these thoughts ; I've done no wrongs That boyish whim brought no disgrace, Yet in this mystery that throngs Around me now, I see her face. THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 10 Will she, that witch, me ever haunt ? Her spectre now pervades this gloom, Forever her accursed taunt. See there, Lenard, thy Ealien's doom. Again he strode his dreary cell, Forsaken day left weird the gloom. Come, death ! he cried, this dread dispel, Make thou in mercy this my tomb. Weary at last, he seeks repose ; Could I, he murmured, here but die. Life's grief makes less thy bitter throes, When hopes beyond, immortal lie. He starts, he, straining, hears a sound That tells of footsteps drawing near ; As painfully his hands are bound, He through the darkness strives to peer. They come ! he hears their clinking steel — They shall not say I know of fear ; The heart can best its pain conceal Where flows not grief's unbidden tear. The pond'rous door swings open wide, A flambeau yields each form to view ; Fran9ois, the schemer, steps inside. Accompanied by an escort who Had daily served his spare repast. The torch sheds round a lurid glare. Exposing, stern, with hands bound fast, 7 I02 E ALIEN AND LENARD. Lenard, yet bold, defiant, there. As he at Frangois fiercely glared, The light reveals how changed his face ; "So thou," he cried, " traducer, dared — Whose lie was, like thy manhood, base — Come now, to see the wreck that lie Hath made of one who dared ye all. Think ye that I am loath to die ? I seek, not shun, from life its pall." '' Retire," spoke Frangois, " I alone, Though loath, this deed shall perpetrate ; I will to its commission own. Thou may, without attendant, wait." The iron door swings to its place. And creaking sounds as spirits moan To see this lost soul face to face With him, the plotter, there alone ; The cold environed dismal cell. The ghastly flicker of that light, Makes its confines a fitter hell, To hear Fran9ois's plot that night. Thou complot of Zandi's dark will. Does not thy deed repugnant grow ? His breast with harrowed grief to fill, At her behest add to his woe. And all to win the smile that she Thou deem'st love will in return THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. IO3 Give back for thy base treachery — Too soon her hollow pledge thou'lt learn. And such is love, that to its ends Man of his man makes mortal foe — To win what heaven's virtue lends, Makes man to man oft baser grow. ''Why art thou here ?" Lenard now spoke. " Thy sword speaks as to murder bent Had prompted thee to deal the stroke, By them who hath thee hither sent." " Lenard Morrell, should I disclose Who to this deed hath Francois sent To deal the cold assassin's blows, That name thy grief would but ferment. Think not free agent I have come To this fell task — I would befriend, And give to thee the solace'd sum Of all the aid my power can lend." " Tell me who hath commission'd thus ? Wert thou my friend or her base tool That I must grow so credulous To look for aid from thee, thou fool ? Go to her, tell them all !" he cried, " How Lenard scoffed at thy menace ; That she in prophecy hath lied ! Thou servest her, this prophetess." " 'Tis false ! ingratitude were sin. 104 EALIEN AND LENARD. 'Tis she, Lenard, who would thee save, And seeks by me, for thee, to win Escape — to save thee from the grave. List thou, I will to thee relate — Be patient, bear with me, and then I will her tale reiterate, And doubt me if thou will ; then when I tell thee it is one that seeks That thou shouldst die unknown to all Who wronged thee, and a fear still keeps Lest friends rescue thee from this hall." '* I know not if thou'rt friend or foe, 'Tis he," hissed Lenard, " I suspect, This Count, thy master, who would show His hate for one whose life he wrecked. Why parley thou if to this deed Thou hast thy master promise gave ? How couldst thou serve me in this need — Wouldst thou for me his anger brave?" " Not he, the Count, would so demean As thus to seek his rival's life. But she of all who shouldst thee screen — 'Tis her thou wouldst have made a wife." " My God !" he shrieked, "thou canst not say That she to thee did this suggest. That such inhuman thoughts could lay Where love for me was wont to rest. i THE SHADO W OF A PR OPHECY. I O 5 Thou liest, dog ! accursed she, I know Hves in her bitter shame, But this suggest, to murder me, From her in truth it never came — Who once could fondle to my breast, As in the incense of her smile, Her words, her love, all did attest — And yet ! he moans, she hath grown vile ; Didst thou not see her on that night. When thou and all like tigers pressed. To crush me there before her sight ? Her voice sought not ye to arrest ; Thou heard her not with pleading strive. Unmoved she stood, nor importuned To stay that fell impending drive, When I, disarmed, he would have doomed Had not that witch ill-timed appeared. Who wields o'er him her latent power — I sought for death, yet her he feared — And dared but to her mandate cower." '' Aye, true, Lenard ; if not he would Have slain thee by his vengeful blow, And she whom thou hast loved well could Have seen thy death and felt no woe." *' Then why did she, this witch, intrigue ? And claim for murder I was there ; With her thou must have been in league, So well did thou her scheming share." I06 EALIEN AND LENARD. " She did, Lenard, this plan contrive, But all I swear to save thy name ; Alone in honor did she strive To show thee Ealien's blushless shame. 'Tis she who now would intercede To rescue thee from Ealien's power. And did for thee this evening plead, Yea, sought me but this very hour To plead for thee when she thou loved Had sought my aid to this foul deed ; And thus her wrong a boon hath proved, I can thee now to freedom lead." As Frangois told how she had sought To win that pledge to murder him. Distorted by internal thought His features drawn were set and grim ; He paced his cell as Frangois gazed On him with sly demonic leer. His haggard face at length was raised — ** So she, thou say'st, does me fear, And she hath prompted thee to kill — Tell me, thou art a friend, I feel. Did she suggest with cunning will How thou a death to me should deal ?" " My heart, Lenard, to tell thee more Feels smote that she could so conspire ; I did for thee to her implore. THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. lO/ But no, thy death was her desire ; She does the Count to-morrow wed — And soughl that here I strangle thee, And said by such, when thou wert dead None would suspect of treachery." ** Nay, nay, no truth more grief can bring, The heart impervious grows to pain. When wrongs hath barren made its spring, And snaps life's fondest hope in twain. The darkest night will bear some light, E'en rocks by tinted verdure pressed Will in return their clasp requite. And give them on their bosom rest : But she, he moaned, her heart hath grown More fouler than the darkest gloom. More sterile than the barren stone Where clings the saxifrage,* to bloom." ** And thou wert loath to consummate This deed, from which thy heart did shrink, And she would force thee perpetrate That she with him her name might link. Were I but free," he fiercely hissed, *' Not him to-morrow would she wed. Though I to her death-cries would list. She should ere that — and I — be dead." As though fate echoes back each word, * An Alpine plant. lo8 E ALIEN AND LEXARD. Resounding her dread prophecy, " What sin," he cries, ''have I incurred, That fate decrees she dies by me ?" The cold sweat bathes his haggard brow, His eyes shine with uncertain hght — Erratic, wild, his manner now Told reason fast was taking flight. Immobile Frangois gazed upon And saw his grief-racked victim there. Too well his subtle plot led on To death, Ealien, for thee to share. " Fear not, Lenard," his foul tongue spoke, " I will from here thee liberate. Thou canst prevent this hated yoke — To kill them both were but just fate." "No, no, not him would I molest, Wilt thou but aid me to regain My liberty ere he shall wrest All that I live for to retain." Francois, with well-affected grief, Spoke : " Here thou shalt not long remain ; I will," he said, " Lenard, be brief, To tell thee how I can obtain Emancipation from this cell For thee ; the guard that stands without Would eagerly his mistress tell Did he of me but hold a doubt. THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. IO9 He deems to strangle thee I stayed, That I the crime should share alone. I can to him appear dismayed And to its dark commission own. Thy cell unguarded then shall be — They feast to-night within the Hall ; Again shall fortune favor thee ; Thou canst upon thy Ealien call. But stay, I must be well from here Ere thou attempt to leave thy cell, I must within the Hall appear That I can her of thy death tell ; I can, too, w^hisper in her bower A friend, shall I say, w^ill her wait." " Oh," whispered he, " I feared this hour; Her words alone must seal our fate." Deftly the shackles now were loosed. That Lenard's hands so long had bound ; " I, whom thou hast of wrong accused. To thee a friend, Lenard, is found." " Aye, friend thou art, but what to me Is friend or deep embittered foe, When, steeled by her duplicity. To kill her now perhaps I go ? But she is mine, her vows coalesced ! The spirit of her love to me, Of her I will yet be possessed. 'Tis justice, not iniquity." I lO EALIEN AND LENARD. " Thou'rt right, Lenard, she should be thine, He'd steal the perfume of an hour, Then leave her blighted to repine In shame, a desolated flower." "Her words shall be her judge in tone, Of awful import," Lenard cried ; *' If not in life I may her own, Then death life's veil shall tear aside." ** Thou hast the courage of a soul Who dares the portals of a tomb, Whose love undying would control Her spirit's Hfe beyond its gloom." And turning now to leave Lenard — '* Stay thou," he said, '' a while behind. The way for thee shall be unbarred, And Ealien in her bower thou'lt find." So interested had I grown in the details that were lead- ing to that fearful tragedy that I failed to interrupt his story as he began his description of the banquet scene. THE BANQUET. Within the Hall in festive mirth The guests around them eager throng, Orlander saw the fair of Birth, Yet none so beauteous there among As she the morrow's promised bride, THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 1 1 1 Profiled as love's first fancies mould, In loveliness stood by his side, Where nestled in her hair the gold Found soft reflex above her brow, That arch where silken lashes screen Those azure orbs that dreamlike now Repose so strange, so calm, serene. Yet as the flower bends to the sun, To catch its god's soft, molient rays, Her eyes fixed ever looks upon And turns to him that languid gaze. Around them squires and noble dames In gorgeous costumes splendor lent. And graced with proud patrician names The banquet ere the morn's event. *' So, Baron, she so soon must leave, 'Twere better far that she were dead ! Death would her of a power relieve ; Beware, let her not with him wed." The Baron turns now in amaze To see who had him thus addressed, But looked in vain with anxious gaze As new-found fears welled in his breast. He saw around each smiling face — Why should I feel, he thought, alarm ? See how her love of him gives trace, Her look my father's fears disarm. T I 2 E ALIEN AND LENARD. " S' death ! now Baron this is strange, Thy daughter does thee soon forsake, This Count were eager to arrange From hence his bride scarce wed to take." Again he turns, but by his side Earl CHnton with a smile him greets ; " Ah, Earl, thou should'st not me deride. We friends, thou know'st, so seldom meet." '' Nay, nay, my friend, I but now spoke As we in days of old were wont, And little thought to grief provoke Or sting thee by a thoughtless taunt." ** Twice, Earl, this eve have words been said That prompt my father's heart to know Why she, so eager by him led, Seeks all, so soon, from me to go." ** Right well thou'st spoken, noble friend !" The Earl with feeling made response, '' Were I but thee I would not lend My word that they should leave at once ; Hast thou not noted, Baron, yet How immobile her glance is turned. To him her being in him set — Of love like this I have not learned." ** My father's heart from day to day Hath seen her hke a flower fade, And noted, too, how strange her way, THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. I I 3 Since he to her his suit hath paid. But love hke hers is seldom known, Resuscitating 'neath his eye, And wakes till for his love alone For all, but him, her passions die." '' Aye, so it is in new-found smiles. How soon we. Baron, can forget, When Cupid, with his fickle wiles. Builds passions new and old ones set. Ah, too, that youth, Lenard Morrell, Must chagrined feel for her his loss ; They told me he had loved so well He deemed it wise the sea to cross To find there solace for his grief. How little can the thoughts exile That once a captive found belief In truth, and lost its first love's smile." " 'Twere retribution for his crime ! He would my daughter seek to wed. And with his name dishonor mine. He ruined one, they say, is dead." *' I give no credence to this tale, The youth he bears an honored name ; Some one who would his right assail To wed her would him thus defame." O'er Clinton's words De Neville thought, His look bespoke his troubled mind ; I 14 E ALIEN AND LENARD. *' Can I to him this shame hav^e brought," He mused, " and wrongly him consigned, And charged him with that heinous deed, That guiltless of his soul remained ? More wrong, unjust, were this grave deed, Since I, who loved him once, detained." Orlander saw with grave concern How keen on him their glances rest, Their looks, he mused, that constant turn. To me their converse doth attest. I know not why to-night I fear. There's import in yon searching eyes, And yet the time hath grown so near, Can they my hidden powers surmise ? Away these thoughts, she is not here, Of whom Barillo feels but dread, No word do I or Francois hear Of her since, baffled, she has fled ; She thought I, prostrate at the shrine Of her dark power's infinity, Would here not dare to make thee mine Or balk her base suzerainty. " My love," he breathes to Ealien now, "Brief grow the hours that intervene Our wedding, and they mutely vow. As passing, naught will come between. But oh, how slow the moments steal, THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. I I 5 To ope the threshold of that hour, When thou with phghted troth will seal Thy love, unconscious in my power. And faithful Fran(^ois he hath served So well I cannot him forget ; With blind devotion yet unswerved He does my fondest hopes abet, And guards with never ceasing eyes The cell where Lenard lies immured, Till wedded then to Ealien I His treasured prize shall have secured. But why does Clinton lowering look, And, too, De Neville searching scan Me o'er, as if they interest took, And then requisite they should plan Some scheme to me of grave sequence ? The eye reflects but from the mind, Where lie uncertainties' suspense, They would more of Orlander find. Too late De Neville dubious grows, He little recked, when him I sought, That I to her might love propose, Her will to mine was captive brought. Zandi now fled, Lenard confined, And thou, Ealien, within my power. None have Barillo's power divined, I wait thee now, hymeneal hour." I 1 6 E A LIEN AND LENABD. Eagerly I asked Henry if it could be possible that the Count would yet marry Ealien, and she, so blind to the unholy influence of his love, forgetting in my en- grossed frame of mind, till he smiled, that this was but a story of the past ; albeit this knowledge, I felt a thrill of satisfaction to know that in Zandi's absence hope still lived for the avoidance of Lenard's commission of that crime for which he had been released, but hope sank within me as he commenced to describe the inmate of of the armor room. THE ARMOR ROOM-RUFUS HALL. Within the gloom a figure paced Impatiently, with hasty stride, As, through the room her footsteps traced, Gazed furtively, from side to side And strove to peer within the shades Where trophied arms of bygone knight As monuments the past invades, And bays with faded plumes — the light That falls subdued on steel-clad forms Bruised in the strife of many a plain. Whose owners now from life's fierce storms Have long in death the victor lain. As shadows from them w^eirdly steal, Like spectral sentinels of the past, The moon through latticed panes reveal How anxiously her eyes are cast THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. 1 1 7 Within the shadow's sombre track, As fearful lest some figure near Might in the darkness linger back, And of her plot with Francois hear. Faintly the sound of revels now Steal from the Hall to Zandi's ear. 'Tis she, to consummate her vow. Waits now till Francois doth appear. Feast on, ye deem but of the hour ! That lulls each fear with pleasure's breath, While I, with deep, insidious power. Weave round the ghastly pall of death. Fool hast thou, now, Orlander, grown, To feast with Ealien by thy side, Lulled by the thought that I have flown, That she will yet become thy bride. Had I not loved thee to thy shame, I would thy secret promulgate And brand with infamy thy name — But no — I can yet calm await. Till he by Francois goaded on. And taunted by her shameless crime. Seeks her to vengeance wreak upon ; That hour indeed shall witness mine. When he above her murdered form Shall plead for death in frenzied cries. Then shall I crush him to inform 1 1 8 E ALIEN AND LENA ED. That guiltless by his hand she dies. He little thought when, years ago She, whom his taunt there drove to seek Her death where none might of her know, Would live, o'er him her curse to wreak. Frangois, who hath no cause, like I, To know or feel for Lenard hate, Would seek to win by that base lie A love, his deed would desecrate. Fool base to think, she murmured low. He would to me in love aspire ; Too soon thou'lt learn of me to know I used thee but whilst I conspired. The jackal crawls to seek the feast The forest monarchs' taste disdain. And viler he, than lowest beast, Who hath for love his manhood slain. A panel in the wainscot wall With noiseless motion moves aside. And Frangois, quick — though soft his fall- Of step, now reaches Zandi's side. *' Time flies, I must now soon away !" Frangois in hurried tones now spoke ; *' I did thy bidding well obey, In Lenard's breast a hell I woke ; He cursed and fumed as one bereft Of reason there to be avenged, THE SHA D W OF A PR OPHECY. 1 1 9 Unbarred have I his prison left ; He deems, Zandi, I was his friend." '' Did he then, Frangois, to thee swear He would, should he escape, her kill, When thou hadst told him how she'd dare To plan his murder with such skill ?" '' He did, Zandi ; he now doth wait. In pent-up passion in her room. Zandi, to satisfy thy hate. Must I Ealien send to her doom?" *' It must be so ! What, to my lust For vengeance, is her life to me ? She whom he treasured dearest must Die by his hand — 'tis my decree. Thou didst not of thy Master dare To utter aught to bring him ill ? The end my powers will not bare My breast with dark monitions fill." " Zandi, thy word is my command ; For thee have I the schemer played. And look now for thy promised hand, Since I have thee so well obeyed. I did not of the Count ill speak, My heart felt smote by deeper sin When I, by prompting murder, seek By this intrigue thy hand to win. What is the Count to thee, Zandi ? I20 EALIEN AND LENARD. Thy hand is mine as recompense ; When she whom thou hast sought shall die I will thee claim when we go hence." The gloom obscures her flashing eye ; ** Go thou, lure Ealien to her bower ! Remember, should Orlander die, Thou, too, Frangois, shall know my power. Go mingle with each gathered guest, Then him advise Ealien retire ; And see his leaving thou arrest — See well to this, 'tis my desire. Haste now, Frangois, this hand is thine When he shall have his Ealien killed ; And vengeance then complete is mine — My prophecy at last fulfilled." As he concluded his portrayal of the conference be- tween that incarnation of hate and the unscrupulous in- strument of her revenge, my feelings were divided by hate for the plotters and sympathy for the doomed Ealien and the unfortunate youth whose lack of reason was blindly leading him to the murder of his inoffensive victim. Henry seemed pleased with my absorption of poetical rendition. The circumstances becoming so absorptive, I vainly inquired if there could be no preclu- sion to the murder of Ealien by her lover. " The Count, who guards her so zealously, would never permit her to leave his sight," I exclaimed, when Henry, even sadly, himself recounted the subsequent event that transpired in the Banquet Hall. THE SHADO W OF A PROPHECY. 1 2 1 THE BANQUET HALL. Francois approached Orlander's side ; " Sefior," he spoke, *' I heard the tone Of speakers here who vainly tried To hide the words their speech made known." '* How so, Frangois ? of what import Are words of theirs that thou shouldst try And seek to eagerly report As if some graveness they imply?" '* Methought, Sefior, I would thee tell, Then thou thyself, judge of their sense ; And deem but too, it would be well If Ealien from this place were hence." " Tell me, Francois, what thou hast heard That such thy fears would justify?" '' It was, Sefior, from words inferred — They spoke how strange shone Ealien's eye. That she to some dark spell a slave Of which they could not comprehend. To that her manner witness gave — So seemed the view of each to bend," " She shall then to her bower alone ! No longer shall they scrutinize ; When thoughts like these around have grown I dare not now thy fears despise. Ealien, my love, do thou retire — I 22 EALIEN AND LENARD. And too, alone, be thy request ; I will, to all who may inquire, Say thou, unwell, hast sought thy rest. And thou, Francois, so faithful now. See none shall her ere morn molest ; Guard thou her chamber, none allow To see her — say "'tis her request." Ealien — blind slave — unwitting went ; Would none now save her fated hour, Price of a woman's vengeance sent — And death awaits her in that bower. As he described the decoy of Francois to secure Ealien as the victim, so intent had I become in the incidents that must soon lead to a conclusion as to debar further interruption as Henry explained. THE BEDCHAMBER. Behind the arras now concealed In Ealien's bower Lenard her waits. His clinching hands the folds that shield Impatiently he separates ; Revealing now his tortured looks, That gaze with wild, uncertain stare. How painfully suspense he brooks As madness rules o'er reason there. So she would have them murder me ! THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. I23 Thy plot, he hissed, with craft was laid — But they less vile in treachery Than thee — hath not thy will obeyed ; He was to me, indeed, a friend. Whom she had thought leagued to her power, And did for this retrenchment send To crush thee ere thy triumph's hour. Kill me — because I loved thee well — And thou couldst feast while they w^ould slay. And deem for thee the wedding-bells Would toll for me their solemn lay. But no ! I will here thee await, Till thou, Ealien, from festal glee — From scenes that doth thy heart elate. That mock with feast, thy infamy — Shall here, by him, to me be lured Whom thou to that base deed assigned, Whose heart to guilt was not inured, And less to me than thine, unkind. Yes, here, to judge thee by thy deed — Thy broken troth's unholy vow — Where none shall hear thee piteous plead. Resigned to fate, I wait thee now. His ear the sound of steps detects — 'Tis she, he breathes, w^ho cometh nigh — The thought of her a change effects, A milder light illumes his eye. I 24 EALIEX AXD LENARD. If she but of the past repents, Foregoing him, we yet may Hve ; One word of love and hate relents ; I could, he breathes, her all forgive. The clinging folds Lenard now hide. As quickly he behind withdrew. And, peering where its folds divide. He saw that form so well he knew That enters now with listless air — So strangely ghostlike Ealien's mien — He starts to see that face so fair, So changed to him, from what had been, That look — has justice found her sin. To curse her with remorse's chain. For I, whom now she deems within Yon loathsome cell, by her will slain ? Like clouds that veil the summer sky, And wrap its dome when tempests beat, His brow grew dark and fierce his eye To hear her lips a name repeat. That name — and she he loves so there — His by her pledge, to hear her moan : Orlander I can joy but share With thee who doth my spirit own. Beyond restraint his passion burst, He dashed the arras now aside. With frenzied bound the room traversed. THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY, I 25 And glaring, stood by Ealien's side. ** So wretch, thou monstrous thing of shame ! That foul negotiates to slay, And seeks to hide by trick the blame — Aye, strangle me, didst thou not say ? Was not thy heart of blackest hue ? When thou polluted with thy breath The truth, and pledged that thou wert true ; That thou must needs have sought my death. Speak now," he cried, as she stood mute And gazed with cold impassive glance, " Can thy base soul this truth refute That thou didst murder countenance ? Speak, yet, I could thee all forgive, One word in pity Ealien say — Could I, this human wreck, here live If thou from me wert stole away — In nature's realms no love-lit smile Like thine for me could supersede ; Heed not, they would my name defile, 'Tis not too late, I to thee plead." She looked, he stood with pleading hands ; Cold, feelingless, her answer came, " Thou'rt not Orlander who commands And calls in love, his Ealien's name." Back from her now Lenard recoils, His senses maddened by her sting ; 1 26 EALIEN AND LENARD. " So thou, by subterfuge, still soils And dyes in deeper robes thy sin ; Nor shall he stand," he hissed, '' to hear The words at morn thy lips would plight — Ere that," he cried, " thy soul from here With mine shall take eternal flight. 'Tis not in hate I would secure Thy soul with mine, through death's dark sphere, Beyond its veil they could not lure The love they have denied me here." She stands impervious to his threat — Blind she to his fell scheme resolved — Could his wild gaze that eye have met. Aye reason, maddened, would have solved That look ; but no, she struggles now As, seizing her, insanely led — '' Thy life is mine !" he cried, " thy vow — " His brutal hands now clutch her head. Hushed as the soundless step of death, Zandi, with fierce satanic leer, Creeps in to where her victim's breath In stifled sounds falls on her ear. *'Aye, kill, mad foe !" she laughed, '' and deem — Who knew thee not could faithless be :" She hears her last despairing scream — " 'Tis my revenge and prophecy !" Without, Frangois heard Ealien's cry. THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY, 12/ " She dies," he breathes, " but not alone ; He whom Zandi to save would try Must die, that I her still may own." With hurried steps he seeks the hall. And eager sought Orlander's ears ; " Senor, I heard thy Ealien call Lenard ; he hath escaped, I fear. I heard there vows of wild despair, To rob thee of the morrow's bride ; We will, Sefior, commotion spare — Haste, thou, Fran(;ois is at thy side." A look of dread surmounts his brow ; " Come, Francois, then I lead the way. Her warning tones they haunt me now — I grew, Fran9ois, to fear this day ; Zandi, with her prophetic skill, Warned me the day foreboded dread. That I some bloody scene would fill Should I attempt to Ealien wed. But come, Francois, thou follow me." With sword in hand he leads the way, And little deemed that treachery Lay lurking in his rear to slay. Through corridors Orlander rushed, — Francois behind, with dirk in hand, — Where sounds of revels fainter hushed He grips it now, fierce to command ; 128 EALTEN AND LENARD. '* My hour hath come, 'tis meet that I, So long servile, their lives dispart ; This night, Orlander, he must die That I alone own Zandi's heart." They reached the room as Ealien cried, Orlander burst in wide the door ; A dagger swift plunged in his side, He sinks, fast dying, to the floor. Keen, swift, the silent blow was dealt — The carmine tide was flowing fast, Zandi had seen, and, falling, knelt By him ; but hope for him was past. Upon her couch now swooning, thrown, Where Lenard's hands suppress her call — For Ealien hope seemed to have flown, He starts, he hears Orlander fall. His hands relax their cruel grasp, He turns to gaze upon the dead And saw there one those dead hands clasp That slowly to him turns her head. He staggers back, his hands now clutch His brow with aspect agonized : *' Thou'rt dead !" he shrieked, " do not him touch !' 'Twas Agnes there he recognized. And slowly now, with outstretched hand, She rose, still pointing to that bed ; He sees, but cannot understand THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. I 29 That simulachre of the dead. " Not dead," she hissed, " but in this hour I Hve to gloat triumphantly, And taunt thee now with Zandi's power. That curs'd thee with her prophecy. Yon form there dying from thy hand. Whom thou hast charged with perfidy, She dies through thee at my command, For my revenge, and guiltlessly." Despair replaced his frenzied look ; Bewildered in his grief he stands. Then falling on his knees he took And kissed with passion Ealien's hands. Oblivious of all else he kneels, He hears not shouts within the Hall, Where Francois now for aid appeals — Affecting grief, he " murder !" calls. The guests in wild confusion rushed Alarmed, De Neville at their head — His frame with bitter grief is crushed To see the Count before him dead. He shrieks, Ealien unconscious there He sees, and anguishedly he cries, " What wrong did she, thou couldst not spare That she, too, murdered by thee dies !" Francois approaches Zandi's side To where alone, unmoved, she stood — I30 EALIEN AND LENARD. *' Away, thou murderer !" she cries ; ** Thy hands, thou dog, are red in blood." Surprised he looks — can she have seen That I so secret dealt the blow ; ** Can she within," he mused, " have been — 'Twas for her love ; she must it know ; Zandi, but list," in plaintive voice Subdued in tone, he makes reply — " Do I not in thy love rejoice. Was he to thee then more than I ?" ** Do I love thee ?" she hissed ; *' I hate — I scorn thee now — away !" she cries — *' 'Tis he who did assassinate ; His victim there now murdered lies." *' And this, curse thee, is thy reward For me, who served thee faithfully, To be by thee thus now abhorred, The dupe of thy fell treachery. 'Tis she," he cried, " hear all of me, This hellish scheme in hate hath laid And I, in blind fatuity. The tool of her revenge was made. Curse thee," he cried, " since thou hast brought To me this shame, and then despise Amidst the ruins that thou has wrought — Death claims thee now — by me thou dies." A dagger flashed from out his breast ; THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. I 3 I He lunged, as Zandi back recoiled, She laughs, as her own dagger pressed Within her heart. *' Fool, thou art foiled." He turns from her with sickened fear, " Forgive me now, Lenard," he pleads, " I did yon bandit outlaw^ slay." But words of his Lenard unheeds. Beside Ealien he silent kneels, Life, too, from her seemed to have flown, Unmindful of those wild appeals His gaze was fixed on her alone. Towards De Neville Frangois turned, " To thee I plead now in this hour ; I killed him when this eve I learned He ruled thy child with hidden power." Amazement now marked every face ; ** 'Tis as I thought," Earl Clinton spoke. ** Yon wretch with powers, inhuman, base. Held her blank mind within his yoke, And heaven abandoned, sacrificed Yon wretches to their victim's will, Who perpetrates unrealized. That he its vengeful mandates fill — The temple of iniquity They reared around yon youth's fair fame, Hath crumbled from malignity And bared the baseness of their shame." 132 EALIEN AND LENA RD. '* My daughter lives," De Neville cries ; " My child, one word speak for my sake ;" As Ealien's feebly opening eyes From dark oblivion's realms now break. " Away with him ! I would not she Should see his form beside her bend, Who would have murdered ruthlessly. Had not kind fate to us been friend. Away, Lenard ! forever go ; I may have wronged thee — never she. That thou this cursed spleen should show, As told yon wretch, in prophecy." Not till these words had reached his ears Had Lenard's eyes from Ealien turned ; Then to his chaosed mind appears At last the truth — her plot discerned. He turns, as Francois trembling sees The fierce light of his angered eye — " Now, wretch, thou must confess to these If Ealien sought that I should die ; Wert thou my friend or Zandi's slave ? Speak, thou, to seek me in this hour, When maddened, me thou access gave To her, so helpless in my power. Hear me," he pleads — his haggard look Turns to De Neville — " hear my tale. Ere thou, if human, would rebuke THE SHADOW OF A PROPHECY. I 33 Or me 'gainst her of hate, assail She whom I loved, he told me there, Within yon loathsome cell — as friend. Where thou consigned, he did repair. That she by him my life would end. / frenzied, here I sought the doom Foretold by her would me await — Wliom I thought dead, the lake her tomb. Hath lived to track my steps with hate — 'Twas she whom they have said I wronged, That yonder lies, self-murdered she — Who hath my mind, yes haunted, thronged With this night's scene in prophecy ; I knew her not disguised — but thou. Who wert her slave, hath known her will ; Speak here !" — and, seizing FranQois — ** now, Curse thee, tell all, or thee I'll kill !" In fear, despairing, Frangois told Of that dread scene in Zandi's cave — The plot, the hour, the schemes unfold Orlander's hope, Ealien to save From shame, that in the power contained Within his dark, unfathomed eye. Her whom he loved, to have retained — To wed and Zandi's will defy. 'Twas her base scheme, he pleads, that I Had sought thy cell to liberate. I 34 E ALIEN AND LENARD. When I recounted, thou must die By EaHen's wish, thou in thy hate — Should seek her when she knew thee not — Enthralled by his commanding w^ill — And thou, the victim of her plot, Ealien, who loved thee, thou would kill. " Hear him !" De Neville moans, " and she That virtue, kissed to fairer bloom — Thou sayest through his potency She sought my child in shame to doom." *' Her spirit like the mirror's sphere, Revealed but back his soul's reflex ; For this, 'twas Zandi brought him here, Who could alone her w^ill annex. And w^eave for her revenge the shame When she, obedient to his will. Would witless, these her vows defame, And thou, Lenard, would Ealien kill." " Away with him !" De Neville screamed, " Hell left its basest brood behind. Since thou to win her base demeaned. Shall here deserving justice find." De Neville fraught with poignant grief — " Lenard," he breathes, " I have thee wronged ; To all they told I gav^e belief. And knew not plotters round me thronged." " Save me Lenard," the words now moaned, THE SHADO W OF A PROPHECY. I 3 5 Steals to his ears ; how wild he cried — " Away !" he madly shouts, '* I owned — Her love was mine once ere she died." At his wild cry her wistful look Turns yearning to his fevered eyes, But reason's throne had tottered, shook — Too late her love to recognize. As waking from some dreaded trance, Her will so long enslaved is free ; The eye that ruled now stilled its glance ; Thus died the unfilled prophecy. During the depiction of Lenard's efforts to secure one word of recognition from Ealien, and its fruitless re- sult, my heart fluctuated between hope and despair, till the frustration of Zandi's scheme, "or Agnes, now more aptly termed," by the death of the hypnotist, with the abrupt termination of his influence over the hapless crea- ture. Then hope lived, exhilarated by the terrible ordeal through, which the lovers had passed when hear- ing of the abandonment of Lenard's reason, a climax to his long and trying sufferings. " And thus the mahgnity of that woman," I murmured, "who imagined herself slighted by his boyish whim, succeeded, though her life was the penalty, in destroying the happiness, the reason of the unfortunate companion of a brief period in the life of that monstrous woman." " No," he replied, and as we traced our way back to the village my friend related the happy event that took place on the restoration of Lenard to health and reason. 1 36 E ALIEN AND LENARD, FINALE. Months had elapsed, the autumn gold With yellow tints the groaning eves, And kissed as in the sear grown old With soft aurated breath the leaves ; All nature's face resplendent shone Beneath Aurora's waking light. And every leaf a jewelled throne That bore the tear drops of the night. Upon the morning air now floats — From belfry high each brazen tongue Flings out its wildly surging notes In pealing anthems joyous rung ; From Rufus Hall, a cavalcade Deploying on caparisoned steeds — And in advance a youth and maid, The morning cortege smiHng leads. The smiling youth, Lenard Morrell, His cheeks aglow with manly pride — In buoyancy his spirits swell Ealien at last to be his bride. Through weary days the reaper Death Had hovered o'er her weakening frame. Till love's resuscitating breath Like balm, from Lenard's presence came. He, too, upon the threshold lay THE SHADO W OF A PROPHECY, I 3 / Where mocking phantoms wildly surged, They saw his mind with grave disma}' Within the shades of madness verge ; In fancy wrecked, his form had tossed — His tireless cry she yet loved me, Ealien to me, is ever lost By thy revengeful prophecy. The face of Zandi night and day His pleadings wild, her spectre mocked, Till fever's bane relaxed its sway — His friends that loved around him flocked. '' Lenard, thy darkest days have flown !" In feehng tones De Neville said, " Thou shalt at last thy Ealien own When thou, Lenard, art well, to wed." At last Lenard in joy beholds Those lips that will her love repeat ; As to the sun the rose unfolds — Her blushing smile his gift to greet The morning, Ealien, seems more fair ! Since from the gloom we love the light, So in the future now to share Our love, the past shall well requite When perils like a cloud beset To hide thy love awhile from me But all — who did her curse abet Hath died — with Zandi' s prophecy. 1 3 8 E ALIEN AND LENARD. Needless to say more than in the Sanctuary made sacred by my love for Margaret, that evening my asper- nation for the young poet's aspirations assumed a milder spirit. As a parting criticism, ere I closed the chapter of Henry's poetical dissertation, I reminded him that, had the youth Lenard been compos mentis, the story of Ealien and Lenard ; or, the Shadow of a Prophecy, would, indeed, have been a pitiable travesty in the hands of an embryo poet. PREFACE. The miscellaneous poems, supplemented, appear like the shattered remnants of the eagerly-constructed altars of admiration that stand out retrospectively along the paths of imagination, marking the resting-place where thought hesitated, catching the miraged picture of fancy, then too hastily abandoned ere words had portrayed be- yond the sphere of mediocrity the transient pictures. Amongst the subjoined poems will be found evidence that I have gi\'en the city of my adoption some little of my humble consideration. The whole, being of the ex- temporaneous order, are offered to the public, lacking- further apology from the author. In idle hours the truant-thought Utopia's golden shores bereave Of dreams within her mazes wrought, Then linking truth with fancy's weave. Though poets may sing of the beauties displayed By the Rhine's lofty banks, or the Danube's blue shades, Yet arrayed in thy mantle by Nature's choice care, I still think thee peerless, thou Schuylkill, so fair. — Norman. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 45 BEAUTIES OF THE SCHUYLKILL. Oft on thy banks with pleasure I've strayed, Charmed by the scenery that Nature thee gave, And wondered could others have adornments as rare. Or rival thy beauty, thou Schuylkill, so fair. Those little green isles, that so reposefully rest. Seem nestled so calmly away in thy breast, Make me think that thy kindness, in shielding, them there, But enhances thy beauty, thou Schuylkill, so fair. Those rocks towering over, stern time to defy, Add grandeur to beauty, and charm every eye ; Thy banks clothed in verdure, and balm laden air, Make thee more enchanting, thou Schuylkill, so fair. Though poets may sing of the beauties displayed By the Rhine's lofty banks, or the Danube's blue shades, Yet arrayed in thy mantle by Nature's choice care, I still think thee peerless, thou Schuylkill, so fair. And midst thy attractions with pleasure I'd stay, And still think thee lovelier as each passing day My footsteps would hie me in tranquillity to share. Each day closing o'er thee, thou Schuylkill, so fair. 146 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. IMMORTAL LINCOLN. In answer to a query as to the author's estimation of Lincohi. Were I possessed of Milton's tongue or held an inspired pen, To justly speak of him who stood pre-eminent to men, The lofty grandeur of whose soul, no menial passions swayed. The noble impulse of whose life no pen* hath yet por- trayed. Whose scintillating genius towered as mountains tower o'er sea, Yet round his majesty of soul hung calm simplicity. His noble mind soared far above where drifts the selfish tide, His only aim a Nation's good, their glory was his pride. 'Twas he, bold Lincoln, hero, chief, humanity's first friend. That dared the slavish bonds to burst — the loathsome chains to rend ; His giant mind alone could grasp, and with their perils cope, When in the Nation's darkest hour he stood her brightest hope. * The pen is as inadequate to portray the nobihty of the illustrious Lin- coln as the inspired brush of the painter to transmit to canvas the realism of a golden sunset. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 47 What other land could boast a son whose deeds reflect the grace, The sacred life, that marked him as the saviour of a race ? Had fate ordained for him the task, so well the deed were done, That while the Nation's glories live so will their fame be one. Ambitious men have lived and strove to gain a mighty name, But Lincoln's altruistic life more honored still became. His only dream, his onh' hope — that all men might be free, And in one Brotherhood alone a nation w^e should be. And memory w^ill around his name its sweetest garlands twine, And every star upon the flag from fields of blue that shine Adds lustre to the glory that round his name will cling — The first of all Americans — amongst all men a king. 148 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. THE DERVISH FLAG-BEARER. Written after the Battle of Obdurman. Fate marked the pale glimmered rays of the morning As the Sirdar advanced, when his lines gathered nigh To brave where Khalifa's proud banner was borne in The legions that soon 'neath its emblem must die. Round his dark banner the spearmen assemble, Assailing the welkin, their fierce slogan strain — Dashing his horsemen like breakers that tremble, Leap to that hell with its steel-barbed rain ; Ride to their doom where awful in splendor Advances the line of Britannia's steel wall ; Swept on that dark-turbaned host — no surrender. As fast in its death-vale his grim horsemen fall. Crushed lay Khalifa's bold horsemen, yet fearless Charges his footmen like leaves when the breath Of the tornado sweeps, and the woodlands bow leafless Rolls on his brave to the maelstrom of death, Assail with their death cry, defiantly hurling. Their dark banner waves o'er the red plain of blood, Where charged his grim host from the battle's wreath curling — Unyielding the last of his warriors stood ; Stood where its emblem above him still flaunted And waved to the world its last heroes' d^fy ; MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 1 49 That stood like the last god of war, who, undaunted, Holds aloft his doomed ensign, intrepid, to die : Grasping the stave of that dark fated banner, That loomed o'er the pyre of the holocaust slain — Unholy the cause ! yet its last stern defender Defiant still stands, where the fell missiles rain — Dying, he falls ! the drooping folds bore he — Veiling the past, the furled robes but tell Of one Spartan deed to wreath it with glory, How he, the last Dervish defending it, fell. I50 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. THE IRISH MINSTREL. He took the harp that hung for years Within his old ancestral hall, And gazed upon the frame with tears, Whose silent chords could yet recall — With wordless voice could sweetly tell — And breathe to him its glorious strain ; His withered fingers touched the chords, And woke its slumbering voice again. It sprang to life with martial air, And told of Clontarf's bloody field — Of valiant Irish legions there. That forced the Danish pride to yield. It spoke of one brave, valorous son Whose heart the nation found so true, That led on Clontarf's field and won A deathless fame — her brave Boru. In sad, weird tones, it softly told, " Its chords now mellowed to a sigh," Of one so fearless, brave and bold. That fate consigned to early lie MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 151 Within the grave, with fame to sleep Till marshalled forth when freedom cries ; And martyred Emmet's name shall keep To live where victory's paeans rise. Along each chord with master hand The aged minstrel's fingers swept, To sound the glories of his land Ere yet her sons in bondage wept, Ere yet her emerald-crested shore Had known the alien tyrant's tread ; Has time but dimmed her glories o'er, Or are they now for ever fled ? 152 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. BABY MINE. Little eyes of heaven's blue, Baby mine, baby mine — Lustered from their depths so true, Baby mine, baby mine, Through the darkness oft will gleam. Like a ray of heaven's beams. Bringing back sweet childhood's dream- Baby mine, baby mine. Oft from hours of weary care. Baby mine, baby mine — Stealing bliss, with thee to share — Baby mine, baby mine ; Like a bud kissed by the dew. When its fragrance comes anew, Making life, ah ! fondly true — Baby mine, baby mine. Treasured wealth in Afric's shores, Baby mine, baby mine — Hidden in its fabled stores, Baby mine, baby mine ; Could not half the joys contain, Or the blissful moments gain. That those little eyes retain — Baby mine, baby mine. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. I 55 THE HERO OF CHANCELLORSVILLE. A grateful nation drops a tear upon the martial bier Where Chancellorsville's brave hero lies calmly sleeping there. Not once, but twice, didst thou respond in the nation's hour of need ; When other names shall be forgot shall live thy noble deeds. Thine was the master mind to plan, the skilful hand to guide ; Where Pennsylvania's gallant eight a thousand deaths defied ! On ! On ! they rushed, the Southern hosts, with Howard in retreat. Till like a rock amidst the storm the chivalrous eight they meet. E^ach man of that brave band leaped forth, within him- self a host. Could braver deeds, or nobler men, war's fiercest rec- ords boast ? Charge ! was the order. On they dashed, like tigers to the fray ; Eager each man the foe to meet, in battle's fierce array. 156 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. They dash against those solid Hues, they stay that onward rush ; Like wheat beneath the reaper's scythe they reel, they stagger, crushed ! Heroic deed ! Intrepid charge ! Oh, noble sacrifice. The fearful cost of that brave deed those thinned ranks testifies. Where but a brief short span before, so eager to obey The orders of their gallant chief — cold, lifeless, now they lay. One noble impulse led them on to check that onward tide — 'Twas not in vain those heroes fought, 'twas not in vain they died ! Though beaten now and driven back, like foam from an angry sea ; In that respite brave Pleasanton quick massed artil- lery. On ! On ! they press, the stubborn foe defiant to at- tack ; Before that stream of living fire their lines are driven back. And night closed over upon the scene where fell so many brave — The hero of Chancellorsville had Hooker's army saved. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 15/ A NATION'S LOSS. Deep stillness reigned, not a zephyr stirred To ruffle the face of the ocean's crest. Unconscious of peril — "three bells " is heard — All in the Maine, save the watch, are at rest, When, crashing, piercing, to burst the gloom, The thundering echoes of hell seemed woke, Hurling its souls to untimely doom, Shrouding their forms in the fire and smoke. Stirring the heavens with its thunderous peals, Arousing the echoes along the deep, Lighting the pyre of the brave reveals Them, mangled and bleeding, rushing from sleep. Guarding our honor, ruthless it came Charging — ^the reaper of Death o'er our brave. Crushed by the breath of its death-dealing flame. Bleeding and helpless, sink in the wave. Dying for duty, some calmly rest Where murmuring ocean's requiems sigh, Some far away from the land they loved best. On the soil of an alien, as strangers, they die. Unwept, there they laid them, save by the tear Of the comrade that falls on the sod where they he. 158 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Unknown to the stranger, their names will appear When the hearts that have loved them no longer are nigh ; But grateful Columbia — deep is her pain — Duty hath made ye her bravest and best. Heroic sailors, guarding her Maine, Her eyes, dimmed with tears, watch the graves where ye rest. DEVOTION. Time may rob thee of thy beauty, Age may steal such charms as thine ; Then 'twill be my fondest duty Loving thee in its decline. Affections, living 'midst its ruins When its splendors pass away, Nourished by its former beauty Ere it crumbled to decay. Within thy humble walls have sat the learned and the brave, The wise, the just and prudent, that to a nation gave The secret of her greatness, when their immortal pen Inscribed the words on Freedom's page, equality of men. — Norman. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. l6l LINES DEDICATED TO INDEPENDENCE HALL. Around thy old and sombre walls a sacred memory clings, Reminded of thy glorious past whene'er thy old bell rings. No siren's voice was ever heard, in lyric's softest strain, With notes as dear to freeman's heart as when thy bell proclaimed Oppression's rule was ended ; at last a nation free. In hymns of praise her notes rang out the birth of lib- erty. Within thy humble walls have sat the learned and the brave, The wise, the just and prudent, that to a nation gave The secret to her greatness, when their immortal pen Inscribed the words, on freedom's page, equality of men. Each word of that famed document undying lustre sheds Its halo round thy old dim walls where first its lines were read. 1 62 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Thy sacred walls have caught the breath, the incense of whose word Hath fired a million patriot hearts and million souls hath stirred. Thy walls still echo back the tones, as spoke immortal Lee : "Why hesitate in thraldom's chains? no tyrant's slaves are we !" Where sprang to life the smouldering spark a people to inspire And build within each patriot's soul the light of free- dom's fire. Thy halls were consecrated by the breath of freedom's flame. Within thy hallowed sanctuary burst forth a nation's claim. It rose in mighty grandeur, and rolled from sea to sea, It shook the tyrant's sceptred hand, it made a nation free. When freedom marks her birthplace upon the scroll of fame, Indelibly her hand will trace upon its page thy name. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 63 DEDICATED TO MOTHER. I sit sometimes and ponder Of a home across the sea, With years that love grows fonder Makes its thoughts so sweet to me. They circle round a mother With a smile of long ago, Love ne'er had gave another With a purer soul, I know. When in the morn of babyhood Her gentle hand would guide Each faltering step so timorous would With eager joy step to her side. Distending years have grown apace, Receding o'er life's measured strand, I see again in dreams her face. And feel again her guiding hand. O ! guiding hand of mother's love — What depth the word contains, Within the sacred alcove Of a mother's heart remains ! A love the beating storms of time, The fleeting years could not impair ; In fancy on her knee I climb, And lisp again the evening prayer. 164 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. ! could I bridge the past to-night On fancy's wings the lost years span, Or through the time's fast dimming light With eager gaze her kind face scan ; Each line upon her brow would tell How time's harsh hand had chiseled there Its cruel trace, and left to dwell The snows of winters midst her hair. 1 see again, though dimly now. Through vistas of the ghost-like past As dim the shades close o'er her brow To hide it as I saw it last. Sweet dream of childhood's happy home ! Above thy scenes would memory trace And build upon its hallowed throne The picture of a mother's face. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 65 ODE TO PHILADELPHIA. On the occasion of her Peace Jubilee. What municipal grandeur With our city can compare, Or rival in the splendor That her lucent records bear ? Where the famous goddess nestled, And her form the hydriads fold Where freedom's halo trestled, Every scene I now behold. Thy sons in civic concord Make imperial thy decree. What though it be that freedom's sword Leaps forth ? 'Tis unity ! Or the plea for palliation Of distress to thee appealed, Their hearts, as one pulsation, To their importunings yield. Unrivalled thy escutcheon ! Mirage through the ages dreamed. Till beamed emancipation When thy fire of freedom gleamed. 1 66 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS The lustre of its morning Thy environs radiate ; Each land, its light adorning. Makes its natal city great. Proud city, fame's Valhalla ! As the ark of old, to thee, From scenes of freemen's valor, Wings the dove of liberty. To thee the garland bearing. Tribute from the unchained free With thee, exultant, sharing Freedom's sire — thy Jubilee. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 6/ THE NATION'S DEAD. O'er the grave where silent sleeps, Spirit of our honored dead, Marching- time will treasured keep Fresh the fame of they who bled. Braying trumpets w^oke them often, Death has played its last sad call — Many lie in graves forgotten, Shrouded in the warrior's pall. They who midst the din of battle When the Nation called to arms. Stood where bullets fiercely rattled Hear no more its dread alarms ; Braving where the shrieking cannon, Wafting on its fiery breath, Messengers of fell destruction Courted there the Spartan's death. They whose sabres in the sunlight Flashed beneath its fiercest ray, Resting but when waning twilight Closed o'er combats of the day, And who oft beneath the standard Bore aloft its glorious fold, Charging where our legions conquered, Lived not triumph to behold. 1 68 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. O'er every field whereon they fell, Above where sculptured sentinels rise^ That will to unborn ages tell Wherein the Nation's hero lies ; That o'er the warrior's tranquil sleep The stranger's foot might lightly tread To light the very calm would keep Its vigil o'er our sacred dead. O Mother Earth, death's mighty Urn ! Where now heroic ashes rest ; No more the patriot's love shall burn — Or fire again their martial breast ; The altar of their sacrifice, Columbia's dauntless sons revealed, That paid to war too well the price. And found the Spartan's bloody shield. 'i^i^g^^ MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 69 WAR, THE RUTHLESS ARBITER. Lines depicting regret at the loss of so many brave men at the fight of San Juan Hill. What glories yet have men found in thy tongue ? That thus barbaric war thy deeds are sung, When smiHng peace in rarest blessings gave Its students crowns that far eclipse thy brave ; Thou hadst no place ; could man but nobler feel How brief thy fame, thy appanage of weal ; Where lives a Caesar with Demosthenes ? A martial fame to rival Socrates. The prancing steed, the hostile struggle o'er ; The victors' plaudits wake the victors' shore, The pageants vanish, the salvo's still, Thy victims mark the distant plain and hill. Not numbered by thy hand th' victims fall, Thy bloody sum, the peaceful homes appall ; And peace had left unbroken where thy step Fond ties dispart, and loved, from loved ones, slept. Can all the vain applause that girth thy dead One pain recall that rack'd the sleeper's head? I70 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, Or tears that fall as dewdrops at the morn. Solace the hearts from love's sweet bondage torn ? Or glory see wherein the spectre's rise. The simulachre of its sacrifice : The sword that rusts the longest from its sheen Brings joys that war's grim visage has not seen. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. \J\ THE SOLICITUDE OF LOVE. When the bhghting hand of years Shall wither thy fair brow, My love for thee shall be as dear, As sacred, as when thou, A bud, I found just blooming In Diana's favored bower, I took thee for thy beauty. As the fairest of her flowers. Launched upon life's sea together O'er the stormy waves of time, Our devoted bark shall weather Every storm to sweet sunshine ; And our love shall, like the roses, Bloom afresh each coming May, And I'll keep in sweet remembrance All thy blushes of to-day. 1/2 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. AN IRISH GREETING. Show me a land where the emerald green, So bright, so refreshing, so pleasant, is seen, As that Pearl of the Ocean, washed by the blue, Whose sons are so valiant, whose daughters so true ; Where virtue resplendent shines over her land, Good-natured the smile and a trust in each hand, And the " Cead Melia Faith "* to the stranger you hear. With a rollic of humor that, ever so dear, Not a land on the footstool of Nature could boast ; Where its sons give, with cheer and good-nature, the toast. And men as a brother they meet with a smile In an old Irish home in that Emerald Isle. When you see the sun kissing her balm-laden shore In his gay coat of gold, from the east peeping o'er. And you hear the kind greeting, the bright, jovial song Of her sons and her daughters who round you would throng. They'd make your heart glad, if in sadness you roam. With a kind, cheery word in their old roof-thatched home. No palace of splendor, where opulence reigns, Ere knew half the love that their cottage contains. A thousaml welcomes. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 73 "Tis an Eden of love in their home you will find, With a father and mother so genial and kind. In filial devotion the parent is blest Till the green sward has mantled the place where they rest. RETROSPECT. Lines suggested by a withered rose, the gift of a young lady, now deceased, to her sweetheart. I am thinking, darling Nellie, Of the years long, long ago, And the evening that we parted, As I saw you sadder grow ; And the little flower you gave me As I spoke in love's soft strain, And I told you how I'd love it Till we would meet again. Oh ! how the years have flown since then ! Could love for thee grow cold ? I see thee in the twilight still As in the days of old ; I see the sweet, soft, blushing rose You gave, with love's kind wish — The priceless treasure from your hand. My darling, that I kiss. 174 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. REFRAIN. 'Tis a little withered flower, yet its every leaf contains A link of love that binds to other years. As I took it in its freshness from my darling's trembling hand, 'Twas made sacred by the chrism of her tears. * * * jK ' * * * I am sitting in the moonlight, As we did long years ago ; I am gazing on this token. Though it's withered now I know. Yet each dead leaf holds a picture Of a face once fair and bright, So full of hope, my darling, As we parted on that night. And the kiss you placed upon it — How I'd kiss it back again, To your spirit, my sweet darling. Could I one soft smile attain ; But the hand that culled the flower Is long since stilled by death ; Its faded folds to me retain Love's priceless treasure yet. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 7 5, BABY FASHION. There was little baby laughing, And in childish voice was prattling. She was trying for to make us understand That the many things she saw Didn't seem like baby law, And to her mind were not like baby fashion. What she would call a rule Was to climb upon a stool ; She thought that interference was quite rude. Just let her go ahead, Break and smash up to a shred ; Then things would be done up in baby fashion. Just let her take the cat, Hold it up by tail or back. Should that tabby bite or scratch her, why — what then ?' Has she not agreed to all When she first began to maul That wretched cat in true-like baby fashion ? When she gets it in her head, She'll refuse to go to bed, And to make her is, she thinks, against the rule, Just let her scream and cry Till you think she's going to die. Then she'll go and sleep in true-like baby fashion. 76 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. AGE'S REGRET. I sit by the wayside of life so weary, And look back again on the days that are o'er, And see, through the years, alas ! grown so dreary. Each childhood's companion now trooping before. In phantom-like shape, each happier vision From the bright morn of life recurs to my brain. And faces that memory had almost forgotten. Through Cimmerian shades come peering again. I see the old schoolhouse, the playground, the master So kind, yet austere, till each duty was done. As there, 'midst the old scenes of bright boyish laughter. With pleasure he'd gambol and join in the fun. But death set its seal on the dear, kind old mentor ; Bereaved of his presence, each one felt the pain. Through that first veil of sorrow the old school to enter, I see those sad faces now loom up again. Once more, in bright fancy, I tread the old green lane, I scent the sweet balm of the white hawthorn bush ; I list to the lark as it carols its sweet strain, To answer with gladness the notes of the thrush. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 7/ As o'er the still calm of the bright Sabbath morning Broke the far-away tones from some quaint village fane, Who's echoing notes come back like a warning To sunmion my fancy to childhood again. Enraptured, I've gazed on scenery, though fairer, Where the tall, waving pines peer away in the blue. And Nature, invested with charms that are rarer, Yet none crowd my memory with thoughts sweet as you. They halo around the home of my childhood. And link to the past w^hen years weave the chain, And transport with joy every dream to thy wildwood. To roam its environs, untrammeled, again. y^ MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. THE ORPHAN'S DREAM. By an aged woman sitting, With his head upon her knee, Was a httle fellow sleeping, So calm, so tranquilly. Till o'er his youthful features Stole a look of troubled pain — He was dreaming of a mother He ne'er would see again. In childlike dreams he'd sought her Through dreamland's wide expanse, Where they told angels brought her He'd sought with eager glance, Amidst its silvery mountains, In its halls of beauteous gold, Where its iridescent fountains Heaven's brightest tints unfold. Till at last within the labyrinth Of that bright celestial land. Amidst its glittering cohorts He saw his mother stand. In his dreams the boy was saying, " Mamma, dear, why did you go ? MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 1/9 They told me you were praying For the boy that you loved so. "The strange dark man that took you, When grandma bitter cried, In a snow-white box they placed you — I heard them say you died ; And round you they placed flowers, And some gates that stood ajar, That led to heavenly bowers — But, mamma, it is so far. *' I know you did not leave me, If you did I know you'd cry ; I sought for you, my mamma, When I thought you would be nigh, And now that I have found you, You'll let me take you home, And we will love you O, so, too, That you'll never, never roam. " You know that grandma loves so To speak of you all day. And now I'll take you back, though 'Tis a long and weary way. The angels they will know, too, 'Twas a little boy that sought, And here, in heaven, found you, His mamma back he brought. l8d MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. "And I'll gather pretty lilies To place upon your brow, And of the sweetest daffodils — I have some home just now — For to-day within the meadows I was looking for you there, And I gathered them for sweet bows To place within your hair. " Why don't you speak, my mamma ? Why do you look so strange ? Your face has grown so sad, too, I know not why you change ; You always looked so kindly, But now you make me weep," And, looking round so strangely. The boy woke from his sleep ! " O, grandma, I have found her In such a lovely place, Where angels, too, surround her, I saw at last her face." ;(5 ;)c ^ ^ : " My child, it only was a dream, Your mother's dead, you know, They laid her in a dreamless sleep In the grave long, long ago." MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. l8l THE BLIND BOY'S STORY. I remember well one evening, When all nature looked so glad, By an old and rustic dwelling-place I saw a poor blind lad. He sat beside the little porch That bore an humble air ; In sympathy my heart was touched For that blind boy sitting there. I approached the boy and kindly asked If to me he would relate By what misfortune he had come To such a poor blind state. ' Kind sir," he said, " I never knew The blessing of my sight Since childhood. I was always blind. I never saw the light. ■' They tell me that all nature Looks so lovely and so fair, That verdant hills are daisy-clad, And flowers bloom everywhere. 1 82 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. " But though the fields I cannot see, The trees or flowers gay — I know the summer time is here By the scent of new-mown hay. " Oft in the pleasant evening, When from school they wend their way, I hear the merry boys and girls Out in the lane at play. " Yet, though I cannot see them. When I hear their shouts of joy It makes me oh ! so sad to think I am a poor blind boy. " I hear the little birds, at morn, Pipe out their sweetest lay ; Their tender eyes seem filled with joy To greet the coming day. " Kind sir, you must be happy, Who have the gift of sight, To see this world so wondrous fair, With all its grand delights. ** While here on earth I cannot see, I know there'll come a day When He, who gave to each their sight. Will tear this veil away. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 1 83 Then I'll see, with eyes immortal, Splendors far beyond compare, Of which St. Paul has told us, Human eye hath not seen there." CONSTANCY. Allegorical Poem. Two flowers in a garden, a lily and a rose. The sun it was just sinking as they hung in sweet repose, The rose it blushed with pleasure, But the lily paled with grief, As each kissed back the sunlight, As it faded on the leaf Like the friends we've known in other years Ere skies had grown o'ercast, How many cling in constancy When sunshine's rays have past? How many, like the fickle rose, When its fairest beams have set. That smiled with us in fortune's hour. Could now each kindly look forget ? As o'er each friend when fortune smiled. We loved o'er them its beams to shed, Like the fickle rose its waning light Found their hallowed friendship dead. 1 84 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. Like the retrospective lily Are the friends we find so true, That gather in life's sunset When friends, indeed, are few, And remember in its twilight, When its golden rays are past, That friends, indeed, are true that live And love until the last. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 1 85 LINES ON ADMIRAL DEWEY. Shades of the brave that o'er the crest Of Neptune's vast and wide domain, When ages shall your deeds attest, And each his worth, one shall remain Whose name above the galaxy Of Neptune's warrior sons shall rise. That led our bloodless victory Above the despot's sacrifice. Dark as Ahriman's gloom the night. Where sceptred hand held tyrant sway, His ships convoyed the morn of light. His valor woke there freedom's day. From ages of oppression's sleep They hailed with joy his paean 'd cry ; They saw aloft his ensign leap — Columbia's free-born sons were nigh. O ! who shall tell ; gauge not the worth Of victory where its plaudits rise Beyond the brave ; that laurels girth A people's dream of freedom lies ; Though bold thy deed, Columbia's chief. Not there alone thy fame shall rest ! Fame marks thy name, and on its leaf Who honor knows lives honored best. Written after Battle of Manila. 1 86 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. THE LITTLE CHRISTIAN'S DEATH ON NEW YEAR'S MORN. In a quiet little cottage, Where a mother's care was shown, Sat a broken-hearted father, Who had loved his happy home. His look of deep dejection told That grief and pain were there, He heeded not those joyous sounds, Borne on the midnight air. His little one was dying, The boy he loved so dear, And as he sat with bated breath, A childish prayer could hear. He clasped those little wasted hands, And said, with falling tear : Thy guardian angel calls thee forth Unto his heavenly sphere. ■^ ^. 'jf^ -i^^ ^ -^ How sad that little cottage now, Since his childish soul has fled. They know he only sleeps awhile, That his spirit is not dead. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 187 And there amongst the heavenly throng He constantly will pray To be united with us all, In heaven some New Year's day. 1 88 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. GOOD-BYE, OLD BIKE! My bicycle, my bicycle, I know at last thou'rt sold — 'Tis true, thy frame was heavy, thy appearance some- what old ; I thought thee once so beautiful, but when they hallooed ''ice!" I thought not of thy charms again, but of thy selling price. I've mounted thee and fallen off, and mounted thee again, And when the crowd would guy thee, I felt " sufficed with shame." I realized thy beauty then was of no latter day, When wanton urchins hallooed out, " give that thing away." And oft upon thy sturdy frame 'gainst wheels of modern make I'd try some httle burst of speed to leave them in a race ; But bursts of laughter, jests and jeers from callous ones around Convinced me thou had'st grown too old and weighed too many pounds. MISCELLANEOVS POEMS. 1 89 Thy pace grew slow and toilsome, and thy antiquated frame Made thee the small boy's target, but thou wert not to blame. There was a time they'd call thee new, but that was. long ago, At last, my poor old aged bike, I had to let thee go. I90 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. INCEPTION OF LOVE. Away in the years ere the world could be From its birth to its age a century The stars were new and their lustre shone More effulgent then, ere they'd older grown ; And the spheric moon, with his rotund face, Had a sly'r look than he now gives place, For his noctivigations lower stood Till he grew alarmed when he saw the flood, And the sun rode bright, his diurnal track Untraced by the belt of the zodiac. No care had the planets to mar delight By the hampering whim of the satellite. And thus encompassed did a maiden see In the morning of love — felicity. Yet my tale would now of a scene relate Of a youth and a love that grew sensate When he sought her hand that he might adore — That his tongue, like the sighing stream, could pour The breath of his love from that passion' d breast As they flow surcharged to the ocean's crest. For love, unalloyed, as the virgin flame From ethereal realms of inception came. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. 19I As the pristine breath, when in Eden God From celestial climes sought the lowly clod ; For the portals were burst of those irised bounds That the countless myriad hosts surrounds, And immenser far than that dream't of shore Gushed his love to the clod that his handiwork bore. And a ray had lived through an Eden's close To renascent appear when his love her chose, For the breath of love by the soul pertain'd Is an unsought light from that Eden gained That wakes, not nurtured, nor in mortal skill Can its life create or its voidance fill. Thus wrapt this youth in love's first waking dawn, As Flora salutes in the beams of morn With petal' d array Hyperion of light. That masks with his robe the visage of Night. The youth saw there primeval mountains glow, Capped by eternal green or winter's snow, And forest deep in uberous mantle grown, And trackless scenes to foot of man unknown ; And beauteous Nature, as a blushing bride In raiment of floriferous robe, beside Which millions have in passioned lyrics praised. And myriads since to it their acclaim raised Through ages by, as waves wash to the shore. Receding, dies — their impress is no more, Save by the sands ; their influx leaves behind 92 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. The mortals on time's shore a space to find A name — a breath — the toll of fame's command Soon lies submerged on time's mutating strand ; And names renowned in fame's chronology Lives but a breath to that Eternity That sternly looms where years inundant greet Those portals fancy weaves, to end — and meet. And life is death — the exile of the soul, Sepulchred here from that eternal goal. That love, the thread, through ages interlace And lifts, ennobles man above the base, The meaner of Creation's lowly kind, The function of an Eden's gift consigned. And thus lived love the youth his passion told, That now renascent on through time has rolled. As seeds ^olus wafts when summer lies In jejuned mantle ; then her spirit dies To wake again, nurtured through winter's blast. And bear her fruit from seeds her prior cast. That vow, his love, that gift to progeny Through ages swell as love's ubiquity ; And love, the pure, in mortals closer find Its mandate from the master-hand designed.