theme as the redemption of the holy city from the unbeliever:
"Arrived on shore, he in review doth pass
The spot with eager glance, but nought descries,
Save caves and water-flowers, and trees and grass,
So deems himself befooled; but in such wise
The place doth tempt—such charms did nature mass
Together there—that on the sward he lies,
His forehead from its heavy armour eases,
And bares it to the sweet and soothing breezes.
Then of a gurgling murmur he was 'ware
Wiihin the stream, and thither turned his eyes,
And saw a ripple in 'mid current there
Whirl round about itself in eddying guise,
And thence emerge a glint of golden hair,
And thence a maiden's lovely face uprise;
Her voice the ear enthralled, her face the vision,
And heaven hung tranced upon her notes Elysian.
And now the false one's song of treacherous wile
Overpowers the youth with slumberous heaviness,
And by degrees that serpent base and vile
Subdues his senses with o'ermastering stress,
Nor death's still mimicry, wrought by her guile,
Could thunders rouse from; other sounds far less.
Then the foul sorceress from her ambush showing,
Stands over him, with hate and fury glowing.
But as she gazing scans the gentle sighs,
The stir of whose soft breathing she can mark,
The smile that lurked around the beauteous eyes,
Now closed (what then their living glances dark?),
She pauses thrilled, then droops in tender guise,
Beside him—quenched her hatred's every spark,
As rapt above that radiant brow inclining,
She seems Narcissus o'er the fountain pining.
The dew of heat there starting, she ne'er tires
With tender fingers in her veil to dry;
While his cheek softly fanning, she desires
The heat to temper of the summer sky;
