“Oh! curse me not,” she cried, as wild he toss’d His desperate hand tow’rds Heaven—“though I am lost, “Think not that guilt, that falsehood made me fall, “No, no—’twas grief, ’twas madness did it all! “Nay, doubt me not—though all thy love hath ceas’d— “I know it hath—yet, yet believe, at least, “That every spark of reason’s light must be “Quench’d in this brain, ere I could stray from thee. “They told me thou wert dead—why, AZIM, why “Did we not, both of us, that instant die “When we were parted? oh! could’st thou but know “With what a deep devotedness of woe “I wept thy absence—o’er and o’er again “Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain, “And memory, like a drop that, night and day, “Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away. “Didst thou but know how pale I sat at home, “My eyes still turn’d the way thou wert to come, “And, all the long, long night of hope and fear, “Thy voice and step still sounding in my ear— “Oh God! thou would’st not wonder that, at last, “When every hope was all at once o’ercast, “When I heard frightful voices round me say “_Azim is dead!_—this wretched brain gave way, “And I became a wreck, at random driven, “Without one glimpse of reason or of Heaven— “All wild—and even this quenchless love within “Turn’d to foul fires to light me into sin!— “Thou pitiest me—I knew thou would’st—that sky “Hath nought beneath it half so lorn as I. “The fiend, who lur’d me hither—hist! come near, “Or thou too, _thou_ art lost, if he should hear— “Told me such things—oh! with such devilish art “As would have ruin’d even a holier heart— “Of thee, and of that ever-radiant sphere, “Where bless’d at length, if I but serv’d _him_ here, “I should for ever live in thy dear sight,— “And drink from those pure eyes eternal light. “Think, think how lost, how madden’d I must be, “To hope that guilt could lead to God or thee! “Thou weep’st for me—do weep—oh, that I durst “Kiss off that tear! but, no—these lips are curst, “They must not touch thee;—one divine caress, “One blessed moment of forgetfulness “I’ve had within those arms, and _that_ shall lie, “Shrin’d in my soul’s deep memory till I die; “The last of joy’s last relics here below, “The one sweet drop, in all this waste of woe, “My heart has treasur’d from affection’s spring, “To soothe and cool its deadly withering! “But thou—yes, thou must go—for ever go; “This place is not for thee—for thee! oh no, “Did I but tell thee half, thy tortur’d brain “Would burn like mine, and mine grow wild again! “Enough, that Guilt reigns here—that hearts, once good, “Now tainted, chill’d, and broken, are his food.— “Enough, that we are parted—that there rolls “A flood of headlong fate between our souls, “Whose darkness severs me as wide from thee “As hell from heaven, to all eternity!”