* * * * * "Tell me no more of Fancy's gleam, No, father, no,'twas not a dream; Alas! the dreamer first must sleep, I only watched, and wished to weep; 1260 But could not, for my burning brow Throbbed to the very brain as now: I wished but for a single tear, As something welcome, new, and dear: I wished it then, I wish it still; Despair is stronger than my will. Waste not thine orison, despair[eu] Is mightier than thy pious prayer: I would not, if I might, be blest; I want no Paradise, but rest. 1270 'Twas then--I tell thee--father! then I saw her; yes, she lived again; And shining in her white symar[122] As through yon pale gray cloud the star Which now I gaze on, as on her, Who looked and looks far lovelier; Dimly I view its trembling spark;[ev] To-morrow's night shall be more dark; And I, before its rays appear, That lifeless thing the living fear. 1280 I wander--father! for my soul Is fleeting towards the final goal. I saw her--friar! and I rose Forgetful of our former woes; And rushing from my couch, I dart, And clasp her to my desperate heart; I clasp--what is it that I clasp? No breathing form within my grasp, No heart that beats reply to mine-- Yet, Leila! yet the form is thine! 1290 And art thou, dearest, changed so much As meet my eye, yet mock my touch? Ah! were thy beauties e'er so cold, I care not--so my arms enfold The all they ever wished to hold. Alas! around a shadow prest They shrink upon my lonely breast; Yet still 'tis there! In silence stands, And beckons with beseeching hands! With braided hair, and bright-black eye-- 1300 I knew 'twas false--she could not die! But _he_ is dead! within the dell I saw him buried where he fell; He comes not--for he cannot break From earth;--why then art _thou_ awake? They told me wild waves rolled above The face I view--the form I love; They told me--'twas a hideous tale!-- I'd tell it, but my tongue would fail: If true, and from thine ocean-cave 1310 Thou com'st to claim a calmer grave, Oh! pass thy dewy fingers o'er This brow that then will burn no more; Or place them on my hopeless heart: But, Shape or Shade! whate'er thou art, In mercy ne'er again depart! Or farther with thee bear my soul Than winds can waft or waters roll! * * * * *