Now climbs the rocks to HINDA’S bower. See—light as up their granite steeps The rock-goats of ARABIA clamber,[230] Fearless from crag to crag he leaps, And now is in the maiden’s chamber. She loves—but knows not whom she loves, Nor what his race, nor whence he came;— Like one who meets, in Indian groves, Some beauteous bird without a name, Brought by the last ambrosial breeze, From isles in the’ undiscover’d seas, To show his plumage for a day To wondering eyes, and wing away! Will _he_ thus fly—her nameless lover? ALLA forbid! ’twas by a moon As fair as this, while singing over Some ditty to her soft Kanoon,[231] Alone, at this same witching hour, She first beheld his radiant eyes Gleam through the lattice of the bower, Where nightly now they mix their sighs; And thought some spirit of the air (For what could waft a mortal there?) Was pausing on his moonlight way To listen to her lonely lay! This fancy ne’er hath left her mind: And—though, when terror’s swoon had past, She saw a youth, of mortal kind, Before her in obeisance cast,— Yet often since, when he hath spoken Strange, awful words,—and gleams have broken From his dark eyes, too bright to bear, Oh! she hath fear’d her soul was given To some unhallow’d child of air, Some erring Spirit cast from heaven, Like those angelic youths of old, Who burn’d for maids of mortal mould, Bewilder’d left the glorious skies, And lost their heaven for woman’s eyes. Fond girl! nor fiend nor angel he Who woos thy young simplicity; But one of earth’s impassion’d sons, As warm in love, as fierce in ire, As the best heart whose current runs Full of the Day-God’s living fire. But quench’d to-night that ardour seems, And pale his cheek, and sunk his brow;— Never before, but in her dreams, Had she beheld him pale as now: And those were dreams of troubled sleep, From which ’twas joy to wake and weep; Visions, that will not be forgot, But sadden every waking scene, Like warning ghosts, that leave the spot All wither’d where they once have been.