Poems (Angier)/The Circassian Slave
THE CIRCASSIAN SLAVE.
See Cashmere's peerless daughter
Within the harem stand;
A princely sum hath bought her,
The fairest of the land;
Clad in a robe of snowy white,
Pure as her maiden soul;
Her pea:-ls were tears, heart-gushing tears,
Which through dark lashes stole.
Within the harem stand;
A princely sum hath bought her,
The fairest of the land;
Clad in a robe of snowy white,
Pure as her maiden soul;
Her pea:-ls were tears, heart-gushing tears,
Which through dark lashes stole.
With heavy heart and downcast eye,
She heeded not his voice
Who welcomed her, the harem's queen,
Of many slaves his choice:
She shunned him, as some poisonous thing,
She spurned his proffered wreath;
A noble bird, with fettered wing,
Hear how she prays for death.
She heeded not his voice
Who welcomed her, the harem's queen,
Of many slaves his choice:
She shunned him, as some poisonous thing,
She spurned his proffered wreath;
A noble bird, with fettered wing,
Hear how she prays for death.
"May He who gave, recall my breath"—
'Tis an awful prayer, this prayer for death,
For love of life with life is born;
The heart may bleed, the flesh be torn,
The cup of woe to its dregs men drink
Yet from the cold, damp grave they shrink—
Thy requiem, Hope, must first be sung
Ere this fearful prayer escape the tongue!
'Tis an awful prayer, this prayer for death,
For love of life with life is born;
The heart may bleed, the flesh be torn,
The cup of woe to its dregs men drink
Yet from the cold, damp grave they shrink—
Thy requiem, Hope, must first be sung
Ere this fearful prayer escape the tongue!
The generous Imri sees her tears,
With pity her sad moaning hears;
A charm to chase her grief he sought,
And gems to win her love are bought;
She heeds them not, but paler grows
Her downy cheek, where bloomed the rose;
Despair sits brooding at her heart,
Well pleased she feels life's strong links part.
With pity her sad moaning hears;
A charm to chase her grief he sought,
And gems to win her love are bought;
She heeds them not, but paler grows
Her downy cheek, where bloomed the rose;
Despair sits brooding at her heart,
Well pleased she feels life's strong links part.
Yet, she was young to die—
Had earth no joy for her?
No holy task, no mission high?
These thoughts her bosom stir.
Such deep soul-yearnings, with kind Heaven have power,
And though no words her trembling lips have spoken,
She formed a purpose, and in prosperous hour
The gilded cage this captive bird hath broken.
Had earth no joy for her?
No holy task, no mission high?
These thoughts her bosom stir.
Such deep soul-yearnings, with kind Heaven have power,
And though no words her trembling lips have spoken,
She formed a purpose, and in prosperous hour
The gilded cage this captive bird hath broken.
By patient toil, a pittance now she gains,
And finds a secret joy in all her pains;
What though by labor daily bread she earned?
Still Imri's proffered gift she proudly spurned.
First ground to dust, then back the gems resigned,
Those costly gems, which Virtue's self might blind.
No power have they fair Zulide's heart to move—
Alas! that shining toy should e'er buy woman's love.
And finds a secret joy in all her pains;
What though by labor daily bread she earned?
Still Imri's proffered gift she proudly spurned.
First ground to dust, then back the gems resigned,
Those costly gems, which Virtue's self might blind.
No power have they fair Zulide's heart to move—
Alas! that shining toy should e'er buy woman's love.
This tale of the Circassian slave,
With pride her sex will read;
And breathe a prayer, that other fair
May Zulide's warning heed—
Ne'er be thou sold for settlement,
Or barter love for gold.
Thy pledge I gain? then not in vain
Is Zulide's story told.
With pride her sex will read;
And breathe a prayer, that other fair
May Zulide's warning heed—
Ne'er be thou sold for settlement,
Or barter love for gold.
Thy pledge I gain? then not in vain
Is Zulide's story told.