"Oh! better far it is to mount yon pile,
"And stretch my shuddering form beside the dead,
"Than with a torturing effort strive to smile,
"And hide the bitter tears in silence shed—
"That state of loathed existence now is o'er,
"And I shall shrink from his embrace no more.
"The tyrant sleeps death's last and endless sleep,
"Yet does his power beyond the grave extend,
"And I this most unholy law must keep,
"And to the priest's unrighteous mandate bend,
"Or live an outcast—reft of queenly state—
"A beggar lost, despised, and desolate.
"Daughter and heiress of a princely line,
"From my proud birth-right I disdain to stoop;
"Better it is to die, than inly pine,
"And feel the soul, the towering spirit, droop
"Beneath the cruel toil, the years of pain,
"The lost, degraded widow must sustain.
Page:Oriental Sketches Dramatic Sketches and Tales.pdf/44
35
