Eidolon, or The Course of a Soul Part 9

Vainly she calls for help in fainting tones, Only the watchful echoes heed the sound, Respondless bearing on her hapless moans, Fainter and fainter o'er the moonlit ground-- On--on--she hurries o'er the flinty stones, Like spirit on some dreadful mission bound; And from that guilty threshold as she stept, The grave clothes off her trembling footprints swept.

LXIII.

She sank nigh dead with weariness and fear Before the dwelling of her early youth, Breathing forth saddest sighs which but to hear Might melt the heart with tenderness and ruth.

She lay there like a bud which tempests drear Nip in its spring time with remorseless tooth; Ah! sure a father's heart will tender be, Nor close its issues 'gainst her utterly.

LXIV.

Amieri wander'd through his gloomy halls With restless steps and vacant rolling eyne, Whilst from each wide spread cas.e.m.e.nt down there falls Upon his blanched locks the moon's pale sheen, As though a voice within him ever calls, And bids him follow some old form unseen; She lies upon your threshold, weak old man-- Up! take her to your arms while yet you can!

LXV.

Faint sighs come to him on the sleep-hush'd air, That swell to thunder in his timid breast, Rooted he gazes out with glazed stare At his poor murder'd child in grave clothes drest; "My Father!" cried she in her chill despair, With palms together in mute anguish prest-- "Hence! hence! avenging spirit, haunt me not!"

He cried, then totter'd from the fearful spot.

LXVI.

She rose and fled in terror through the night, All witless whither her weak steps might stray, As some freed bird first wings its rapid flight From its close prison to the realms of day; But on a sudden beam'd an inward light Upon her troubled soul and bid her stay, With the warm blood sent swiftly to her cheeks, The trace that signals when the fond heart speaks.

LXVII.

She thought of Julian--he so kind and true, And how they gladden'd in the times gone by; She thought how he had stolen her love's young dew, And fused into her heart so tenderly, Until beneath affection's power, they grew Together knit in one sweet unity; And now poor maid, by kith and kin forsaken, Unto _his_ heart she felt she would be taken.

LXVIII.

O blessed power of Love! that still can keep A quiet haven for the weary soul, When o'er the sea of life grief-tempests sweep, And surging billows o'er contentment roll; And thither though Affliction's cloud be deep The heart steers true beneath its sweet controul!

To him, the loved, the lost, thus basely spurned, She fled a prisoner from Death's chains return'd.

LXIX.

Sigh for the heart that follows to the grave The perish'd idol of its summer dreams!

Sigh for the heart that powerless all to save, Sees its sweet treasure gulph'd in sorrow's streams; And joys that ivy-like around it clave, Nipp'd of their blossoms, shorn of their warm beams!

So Julian follow'd from afar her bier, With many a sigh, with many a bitter tear.

LXX.

Within the stillness of his chamber, he Open'd the flood-gates of his chill despair, Darkening the midnight with deep misery, Freighting the moments all with heavy care, Weeping for her he loved so utterly, Whose presence only made existence fair, His pallid face sunk in the outspread palms, Moist with the dew that her dear loss embalms.

LXXI.

Soft through the lattice steals a gentle voice, Breathing his name in accents faint and weak, Tones that in past days made his soul rejoice, And now send crimson currents to his cheek.

"Dear vision," said he, "of long cherish'd joys!

"That now so sweetly in my soul dost speak, "Fade not away, but like a fixed star, "Shine on my spirit from thy heavens afar.

LXXII.

"Oh! thou art lovely in thy radiant sphere, "As thou wert once, the day-star of my heart, "Revealing ever shadowless and clear "The blessed rays that in thy spirit start.

"O light! O life! O angels hovering near!

"Pity us, sunder'd thus so far apart."

Upon her love the maid imploring cries-- Awaken, Julian, or thy loved one dies!

LXXIII.

He rose, and to the lattice tranced went, Where through the opened eaves the moonlight fell, And to his tearful glances downward bent, Show'd that dear form, loved and remember'd well.

Gazed he in fond and loving wonderment, As one who slumbers under Fancy's spell, On his beloved in cerements snowy white, All in the moonrays pictured there so bright.

LXXIV.

"Dream of my soul!" he said, "thus softly stealing "From thine empyrean o'er my aching sense, "Pouring thy balm on my pierced heart, and healing "Cold sorrow's wounds with ravishment intense; "Fold still thy wings, and thus in light revealing "Thine angel charms, flee ne'er away from hence."

Still on his name she call'd with swooning sighs, And hands convulsive prest, and upturn'd eyes.

LXXV.

"It is my love," he said, "by death set free "From cruel bonds that sever'd our true vows, "Thus from the piteous tomb return'd to me, "In white array with blossoms on her brows.

"Ah! blessed is love's immortality, "That e'en the grave with softest charms endows; "And blessed thou, mine own, alive or dead, "That to this yearning heart once more hast fled.

LXXVI.

Entranced still he wander'd to the gate, Where stood Alceste in sad weary plight, Sore press'd with sentience of her hapless fate, Weeping, nigh hopeless, in the pale moonlight.

Tarried he there in strange delicious strait, Lapt in the wonder of his dreaming sight; Then opening wide his arms in raptured prayer, Her gentle spirit swoon'd and nestled there.

LXXVII.

O Paradise! to waken from a dream, A sleep-revealment of delights, and find The rosy fancies, beauteous though they seem, Reality, and in our fond arms twined; Truth haloed by imagination's beam, And heaven and earth in one sweet birth combined.

Thus Julian gazed upon her fainting form, Robed for the grave yet with existence warm.

LXXVIII.

He bore her as a mother bears a child Within the cradle of her tender breast, His throbbing heart, 'twixt hope and fear nigh wild, With that dear lifeless form against it prest, Like some bright angel beautiful and mild, Sunk in the calmness of Elysian rest.

Upon her lips he breath'd his soul away, Whilst she in stilly swoon Joy's prisoner lay.