Now 'tis done, and I am glad And free--'twill thieve away with sleepy mood My thoughts, and yonder brightening patch of sky With three bars crossed, and these four walls my world, And yon few stars, grown dim like eyes of lovers The noisy world divides. How soon a deed So small makes one grow weak and tottering. Where shall I lay me down? That question is A weighty question, for it is the last. Not there, for there a spider weaves her web. Nay here, I'll lay me down where I can watch The burghers of the night fade one by one, ... Yonder a leaf Of apple blossom circles in the gloom, Floating from yon barred window. New comer, Thou'rt welcome. Lie there close against my fingers. I wonder which is whitest, they or thou. 'Tis thou, for they've grown blue around the nails. My blossom, I am dying, and the stars Are dying too. They were full seven stars; Two only now they are, two side by side. Oh! Allah, it was thus they shone that night, When my lost lover left these arms. My Vallence, We meet at last, the ministering stars Of our nativity hang side by side, And throb within the circles of green dawn. Too late, too late, for I am near to death. I try to lift mine arms--they fall again. This death is heavy in my veins like sleep. I cannot even crawl along the flags A little nearer those bright stars. Tell me, Is it your message, stars, that when death comes My soul shall touch with his, and the two flames Be one? I think all's finished now and sealed. [_After a pause enter Ebremar._] _Ebremar._ Young Moorish girl, thy final hour is here, Cast off thy heresies and save thy soul From dateless pain. She sleeps-- [_Starting._] Mosada--thou-- Oh God!--awake, thou shalt not die. She sleeps. Her head cast backward in her unloosed hair. Look up, look up, thy Vallence is by thee. A fearful paleness creeps across her breast And out-spread arms. [_Casting himself down by her._] Be not so pale, dear love. Oh! can my kisses bring a flush no more Upon thy face. How heavily thy head Hangs on my breast. Listen, we shall be safe. We'll fly from this before the morning star. Dear heart, there is a secret way that leads Its paven length towards the river's marge, Where lies a shallop in the yellow reeds. Awake, awake, and we will sail afar, Afar along the fleet white river's face-- Alone with our own whispers and replies-- Alone among the murmurs of the dawn. Among thy nation none shall know that I Was Ebremar, whose thoughts were fixed on God, And heaven, and holiness. _Mosada._ Let's talk and grieve, For that's the sweetest music for sad souls. Day's dead, all flame-bewildered, and the hills In list'ning silence gazing on our grief. I never knew an eve so marvellous still. _Ebremar._ Her dreams are talking with old years. Awake, Grieve not, for Vallence kneels beside thee--