“WILD thro’ the desert woods Alzira flew!
Her robe disorder’d hung;
Wet were her locks from midnight’s chilly dew,
Her snowy arms were bare;
Her bosom fair
With blood was stain’d;
But reckless still the lovely wretch remain’d,
As dolefully she sung-
“”Ye idle gales that play around me,
Waft a whisper to my love,
He resides somewhere above;
Say to meet him I will fly
Soon as I have leave to die;
E’en now death’s harbingers surround me;
Tell him so, and take him this;””
She said, and gave the winds a kiss.
Then started madly from her earthy bed,
Her nerves were fever’d, and convuls’d her brow;
Her unsettled eye
Wander’d high, then low
Alternately–
The pow’r of thought had fled.
Eager she gain’d the mountain’s slippery top,
Her bosom bare and bleeding,
When, lo! soft strains delay’d her wild proceeding,
And sudden made her stop.
Her lover was return’d; his voice well known
Struck thro’ her madden’d brain
Its tone-
Then swift again
Her short remembrance flies,
Like light’ning darting o’er the gloomy plain,
Flashes and dies!
Just then the hurrying moon broke from a cloud,
Although the angry winds blew loud,
To shew the lover where his mistress stood,
Seeming on death with haggard air to brood.
He mark’d her dang’rous state,
And fear’d he ne’er could save;
Sigh’d, lest her dreadful fate
Should be an instant grave-
“”Oh, stop!”” he cried,
And saw her eye-balls glaring wide,
Of bright and dazzling blue;
Uncertain trod her dubious feet,
The lover’s heart with terror beat-
Aghast he stood, tortur’d with keen alarms;
She flew–
He caught her in his trembling arms!
His burning tears fell on her woe-worn face,
With painful joy he clasp’d her to his breast;
Her shrunk heart flutter’d in the dear embrace.
Still fell his tears as closer still he prest;
And as the dew revives a drooping flow’r,
She rais’d her head, and testified their pow’r!
(Charlotte Dacre)”
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