Poems (Osgood)/Fazry
FAZRY.
Her hands clasp'd in anguish—her black eyes bent low,
With motionless grace, as if sculptured in stone,
Half veil'd by her dark hair's magnificent flow,
Sweet Fazry is standing— captive—lone
With motionless grace, as if sculptured in stone,
Half veil'd by her dark hair's magnificent flow,
Sweet Fazry is standing— captive—lone
"Kar Aly!"—the statue awakes to that name,
As the marble grew warm 'neath the love-spell of old
Lo her pale cheek is kindling with beautiful shame,
And her eye is on fire with emotion untold!
As the marble grew warm 'neath the love-spell of old
Lo her pale cheek is kindling with beautiful shame,
And her eye is on fire with emotion untold!
"Frail flower of Kazan! you were nursed, from your birth,
Amid luxuries rarest and richest of earth
Why left you that home, with the fierce mountain- chief?"
"I loved him" she murmur'd, in passionate grief.
Amid luxuries rarest and richest of earth
Why left you that home, with the fierce mountain- chief?"
"I loved him" she murmur'd, in passionate grief.
"So young and so lovely, a cavern your home!
Ne'er languish'd that spirit for freedom to roam
Rude dwelling for creature so fragile and fair!"
"Ah, no!" she replied—" Kara Aly was there!"
Ne'er languish'd that spirit for freedom to roam
Rude dwelling for creature so fragile and fair!"
"Ah, no!" she replied—" Kara Aly was there!"