'O grant,' he said, in agony of prayer,
'That Flora may not wake till highest noon
With heated vapours fills the summer air.
Give me, O Heaven, this simplest, humblest boon!
Without her I am nought, and with her all!
My spirit clings to her, and cannot live
If parted from her. It would faint and fall
Without the love that she alone can give,
And, cursing, it would wither in despair!
'Whence comes the double dream that haunts my life?
Who sends me dreadful prophecies of ill?
Why are my slumbers thus with terror rife;
What shakes the firm foundations of my will,
And bids me tremble at a spectre's voice?
Can such grim orders for great sacrifice,
For bitter agony, be Heavenly choice?
Nay, they are but a devil's dull device
To rob me of my love, my heart, my wife !'
No comfort was there in the morning sky:
The dawn was sullen, and the light was faint :
The cool and careless breeze that lingered by
Seemed but to mock the echoes of his plaint.
Relentless power impelled him to arouse
The wretched sleepers, and in trembling tones
To tell them of his dream, and of the vows
The spectre asked of them. With many moans,
One said, 'We dare not curse our God, and die;
'But what were left for us, if we should fail?
The prince in anger, and the priests in shame
Would turn their faces from us, and the tale
Of our disgrace would sully thy great name.
Wherefore do I agree the dreadful deed
To do, e'en though the victim be my love;
Who knows? If here my heart a little bleed,
Mayhap I may become a saint above
When I have passed beyond this mortal pale.'
And after much and sorrowful discourse,
Manol and his companions made an oath
To bow before the stern, unbending force
Of destiny, though each and all were loth.
Each one, as in a vision, saw the wall
Seize her he loved within its cold embrace;
Each one in fancy seemed to hear her call
For mercy; seemed to note her pallid face,
And tremble as he heard her pleadings hoarse.
THE morning grew apace, and every man
His breath drew hard, and laboured at his task
With rage and fear, like culprit 'neath the ban
Of law. Then said Manol, 'I humbly ask
None from these walls the livelong morn to stir,
Lest love may tempt a craving heart to send
Across the fields a messenger to her
He loves, to warn her that doom doth impend.
Now pray, and labour with what heart ye can!'
So saying, up he climbed to where the dove
Had fluttered down to rest the night before;
And standing thus upon the stone above
His men, his scared eyes swept the landscape o'er.
He heard the music of the torrents twain
Within their foliage-enshrouded glen;
He heard the lowing flocks upon the plain,
But vaguely saw he cattle, fields, and men,
For all his thought was bent upon his love.
He thought he saw her, as she woke and turned,
Half flushed with sleep, to greet him with a kiss;
Then while his brow with love's remembrance burned,
And all his heart was full of richest bliss,
She robed herself in garments cool and white,
And, luminous and lovely, gently stole
Into the garden, where the dews of night
She brushed from roses, and refreshed her soul
With singing while she Nature's secrets learned.
Or now he saw her as, a mountain maid,
Her way along a precipice she took,
Where ragged, melancholy trees displayed
Their branches high above a brawling brook
Which poured its waters into dizzy space ;
Or watched her as she trod, with clinging feet,
Where even daring shepherds slacked their pace,
Or as she climbed the eagles' young to greet,
On peaks which into cloudland seemed to fade.
Or now he thought upon the life within
Her sweetest life-upon the unborn child:
And in his heart arose a horrid din
Of rebel passions, tyrannous and wild,
Against the thought of sacrifice of her And all she nourished for a future day. 'Now will I make this cruel fate defer
Its savage sentence, come whate'er come may ! Why should it fall on one who knows no sin?'
E'en as he spoke, he saw a figure rise
Upon the dull horizon, far away;
And, as he strained his terror-stricken eyes,
The wicked sun sent down a vagrant ray
Which clothed the earth in glory. Water, sky,
The fields and forests, every blade of grass,
And every insect were transfigured by
The sunlight that by magic seemed to pass,
And died as quickly as the lightning dies!
He saw the figure airily advance;
Its robes from grasses swept the melting dews; Upon the tufted turf it seemed to dance
In sweet abandonment of perfect joy.
And now it waved a hand, and seemed to flee
With many graceful gestures lithe and coy;
With decorous yet unrestrainèd glee,
Like bearer of sublime inspiring news.
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