Page:Poems Dorr.djvu/56

Brought the great book that held the Persian laws,
And ere the rising of the morrow's sun,
My bitter doom was sealed, the deed was done!

Scarce had two moons passed when one dreary night
I sat within my bower in woeful plight,
When suddenly upon my presence stole
A muffled form, whose shadow stirred my soul
I knew not wherefore. Ere my tongue could speak,
Or with a breath the brooding silence break,
A low voice murmured "Vashti!"
            Pale and still,
Hushing my heart's cry with an iron will,
"What would the king?" I asked. No answer came,
But to his sad eyes leaped a sudden flame;
With clasping arms he raised me to his breast
And on my brow and lips such kisses pressed
As one might give the dead. I may not tell
All the wild words that I remember well.
Oh! was it joy or was it pain to know
That not alone I wept my weary woe?
Alas! I know not. But I know to-day—
If this be sin, forgive me, Heaven, I pray!—
That though his eyes have never looked on mine
Since that dark night when stars refused to shine,
And fair Queen Esther sits, a beauteous bride,
In stately Shushan at the monarch's side,
The king remembers Vashti, even yet
Breathing her name sometimes with vain regret,
Or murmuring, haply, in a whisper low,—
"O pure, proud heart that loved me long ago!"