So innocent the maid, so free

From mortal taint in soul and frame, Whom 'twas my crime-my destiny

To love, ay, burn for, with a flame,
To which earth's wildest fires are tame.
Had you but seen her look, when first
From my mad lips th' avowal burst;
Not anger'd-no-the feeling came
From depths beyond mere anger's flame-
It was a sorrow, calm as deep,

A mournfulness that could not weep,
So fill'd her heart was to the brink,
So fix'd and froz'n with grief, to think
That angel natures-that ev'n I,
Whose love she clung to, as the tie
Between her spirit and the sky-
Should fall thus headlong from the height
Of all that heav'n hath pure and bright!

That very night-my heart had grown

Impatient of its inward burning;
The term, too, of my stay was flown,
And the bright Watchers near the throne,
Already, if a meteor shone

Between them and this nether zone,

Thought 'twas their herald's wing returning, Oft did the potent spell-word, giv'n

To Envoys hither from the skies,

To be pronounced, when back to heav'n
It is their time or wish to rise,
Come to my lips that fatal day;

And once, too, was so nearly spoken,
That my spread plumage in the ray
And breeze of heav'n began to play ;-

When my heart fail'd-the spell was brokenThe word unfinish'd died away, And my check'd plumes, ready to soar, Fell slack and lifeless as before.

How could I leave a world which she,
Or lost or won, made all to me?
No matter where my wand'rings were,

So there she look'd, breathed, moved about-
Wo, ruin, death, more sweet with her,
Than Paradise itself, without!

But, to return-that very day

A feast was held, where, full of mirth,
Came-crowding thick as flow'rs that play
In summer winds-the young and gay
And beautiful of this bright earth.
And she was there, and 'mid the young
And beautiful stood first, alone;
Though on her gentle brow still hung

The shadow I that morn had thrown-
The first, that ever shame or wo
Had cast upon its vernal snow.
My heart was madden'd;-in the flush
Of the wild revel I gave way

To all that frantic mirth-that rush
Of desp'rate gayety, which they,
Who never felt how pain's excess
Can break out thus, think happiness!
Sad mimicry of mirth and life,
Whose flashes come but from the strife
Of inward passions-like the light
Struck out by clashing swords in fight.

Then, too, that juice of earth, the bane
And blessing of man's heart and brain-
That draught of sorcery, which brings
Phantoms of fair, forbidden things-
Whose drops, like those of rainbows, smile
Upon the mists that circle man,
Bright'ning not only Earth, the while,

But grasping Heav'n, too, in their span !Then first the fatal wine-cup rain'd

Its dews of darkness through my lips,'
Casting whate'er of light remain'd
To my lost soul into eclipse;
And filling it with such wild dreams,

Such fantasies and wrong desires,
As, in the absence of heav'n's beams,

Haunt us forever-like wild-fires
That walk this earth, when day retires.

Now hear the rest ;-our banquet done, I sought her in th' accustom❜d bow'r,

1 I have already mentioned that some of the circumstances of this story were suggested to me by the eastern legend of the two angels, Harut and Marut, as given by Mariti, who says that the author of the Taalim founds upon it the Mahometan prohibition of wine. I have since found that

Mariti's version of the tale (which differs also from that of Dr. Prideaux, in his Life of Mahomet) is taken from the French Encyclopédie, in which work, under the head "Arot et Marot," the reader will find it.

a The Bahardanush tells the fable differently.

Where late ve oft, when day was gone,
And the world hush'd, had met alone,

At the same silent, moonlight hour.
Her eyes, as usual, were upturn'd
To her loved star, whose lustre burn'd

Purer than ever on that night;

While she, in looking, grew more bright, As though she borrow'd of its light.

There was a virtue in that scene,

A spell of holiness around,

Which, had my burning brain not been

Thus madden'd, would have held me bound, As though I trod celestial ground. Ev'n as it was, with soul all flame,

And lips that burn'd in their own sighs,
I stood to gaze, with awe and shame-
The memory of Eden came

Full o'er me when I saw those eyes;
and though too well each glance of mine
To the pale, shrinking maiden proved
How far, alas, from aught divine,
Aught worthy of so pure a shrine,

Was the wild love with which I loved,
Yet must she, too, have seen-oh yes,
'Tis soothing but to think she saw
The deep, true, soul-felt tenderness,

The homage of an Angel's awe
To her, a mortal, whom pure love
Then placed above him-far above-
And all that struggle to repress
A sinful spirit's mad excess,
Which work'd within me at that hour,
When, with a voice, where Passion shed
All the deep sadness of her power,

Her melancholy power-I said,
Then be it so; if back to heaven
'I must unloved, unpitied fly,
"Without one blest memorial giv'n

"To sooth me in that lonely sky; 'One look, like those the young and fond

'Give when they're parting-which would be,

'Ev'n in remembrance, far beyond

'Already, see, my plumes have stirr'd, And tremble for their home on high. 'Thus be our parting-cheek to cheek'One minute's lapse will be forgiv'n, And thou, the next, shalt hear me speak

The spell that plumes my wing for Heav'n!' *

While thus I spoke, the fearful maid,
Of me, and of herself afraid,

Had shrinking stood, like flow'rs beneath
The scorching of the south-wind's breath:
But when I named-alas, too well,

I now recall, though wilder'd then,— Instantly, when I named the spell,

Her brow, her eyes uprose again, And, with an eagerness, that spoke The sudden light that o'er her broke, The spell, the spell!-oh, speak it now, 'And I will bless thee!' she exclaim'dUnknowing what I did, inflamed,

And lost already, on her brow

I stamp'd one burning kiss, and named The mystic word, till then ne'er told To living creature of earth's mould ! Scarce was it said, when, quick as thought, Her lips from mine, like echo, caught The holy sound-her hands and eyes Were instant lifted to the skies, And thrice to heav'n she spoke it out

With that triumphant look Faith wears, When not a cloud of fear or doubt, A vapor from this vale of tears, Between her and her God appears!

That very moment her whole frame
All bright and glorified became,
And at her back I saw unclose
Two wings, magnificent as those

That sparkle around ALLA's Throne, Whose plumes, as buoyantly she rose,

Above me, in the moonbeam shone With a pure light, which-from its hue, Unknown upon this earth-I knew Was light from Eden, glist'ning through! Most holy vision! ne'er before

Did aught so radiant-since the day
When EBLIS, in his downfall, bore

The third of the bright stars away-
Rise, in earth's beauty, to repair
That loss of light and glory there!

But did I tamely view her flight?

Did not I, too, proclaim out thrice The pow'rful words that were, that night,Oh, ev'n for heaven too much delight!—

It was to yonder star I traced
Her journey up th' illumined waste-
That isle in the blue firmament,
To which so oft her fancy went

In wishes and in dreams before,
And which was now-such, Purity,
Thy bless'd reward-ordain'd to be

Her home of light for evermore! Once-or did I but fancy so?

Ev'n in her flight to that fair sphere, 'Mid all her spirit's new-felt glow, A pitying look she turn'd below

On him who stood in darkness here; Him whom, perhaps, if vain regret Can dwell in heaven, she pitics yet; And oft, when looking to this dim And distant world, remembers him.

But soon that passing dream was gone;
Farther and farther off she shone,
Till lessen'd to a point, as small

As are those specks that yonder burn,Those vivid drops of light, that fall

The last from Day's exhausted urn. And when at length she merged, afar, Into her own immortal star,

And when at length my straining sight Had caught her wing's last fading ray, That minute from my soul the light

Of heav'n and love both pass'd away; And I forgot my home, my birth,

Profaned my spirit, sunk my brow, And revell'd in gross joys of earth,

Till I became-what I am now!"

The Spirit bow'd his head in shame;

A shame, that of itself would tellWere there not ev'n those breaks of flame, Celestial, through his clouded frame

How grand the height from which he fell!

That holy Shame, which ne'er forgets
Th' unblench'd renown it used to wear;
Whose blush remains, when Virtue sets,

To show her sunshine has been there.

Once only, while the tale he told,
Were his eyes lifted to behold
That happy, stainless star, where she
Dwelt in her bower of purity!

One minute did he look, and then

As though he felt some deadly pain

From its sweet light through heart and brainShrunk back, and never look'd again.

Who was the Second Spin? he

With the proud front and piercing glance
Who seem'd, when viewing heaven's expaise,
As though his far-sent eye could see
On, on into th' Immensity

Behind the veils of that blue sky,
Where ALLA's grandest secrets lie ?—
His wings, the while, though day was gone,
Flashing with many a various hue

Of light they from themselves alone,

Instinct with Eden's brightness, drew. "Twas RUBI-once among the prime

And flow'r of those bright creatures, nared Spirits of Knowledge,' who o'er Time

And Space and Thought an empire claim'd, Second alone to Him, whose light

Was, ev'n to theirs, as day to night;
"Twixt whom and them was distance far
And wide as would the journey be
To reach from any island star

The vague shores Infinity!

"Twas RUBI, in whose mournful eye
Slept the dim light of days gone by;
Whose voice, though sweet, fell on the ear
Like echoes, in some silent place,
When first awaked for many a year;

And when he smiled, if o'er his face
Smile ever shone, 'twas like the grace
Of moonlight rainbows, fair, but wan,
The sunny life, the glory gone.

Ev'n o'er his pride, though still the same,
A soft'ning shade from sorrow came;
And though at times his spirit knew
The kindlings of disdain and ire,

The Kerubiim, as the Mussulmans all them, are often joined indiscriminately with the Asrafil or Seraphim, un

der one common name of Azazil, by which all spirits who approach near the throne of Alla are designated.

Short was the fitful glare they threwLike the last flashes, fierce but few,

Scen through some noble pile on fire!

Such was the Angel, who now broke
The silence that had come o'er all,
When he, the Spirit that last spoke,

Closed the sad hist'ry of his fall;
And, while a sacred lustre, flown

For many a day, relumed his cheekBeautiful, as in days of old; And not those eloquent lips alone But every feature seem'd to speakThus his eventful story told :

SECOND ANGEL'S STORY.

"You both remember well the day, When unto Eden's new-made bow'rs, ALLA Convoked the bright array

Of his supreme angelic pow'rs,
To witness the one wonder yet,
Beyond man, angel, star, or sun,
He must achieve, ere he could set
His seal upon the world, as done-
To see that last perfection rise,

That crowning of creation's birth,
When, mid the worship and surprise
Of circling angels, Woman's eyes
First open'd upon heav'n and earth;
And from their lids a thrill was sent,
That through each living spirit went,
Like first light through the firmament!

Can you forget how gradual stole
The fresh-awaken'd breath of soul
Throughout her perfect form-which seem'd
To grow transparent, as there beam'd
That dawn of Mind within, and caught
New loveliness from each new thought?
Slow as o'er summer seas we trace

The progress of the noontide air,
Dimpling its bright and silent face
Each minute into some new grace,
And varying heav'n's reflections there-
Or, like the light of evening, stealing

O'er some fair temple, which all day
Hath slept in shadow, slow revealing
Its several beauties, ray by ray,
Till it shines out, a thing to bless,
All full of light and loveliness.

1 "C'est un fait indubitable que la plupart des anciens philosophes, soit Chaldéens, soit Grecs, nous ont donné les astres comme animés, et ont soutenu que les astres, qui nous éclairent, n'etoient que ou les chars, ou même les navires, des

Can you forget her blush, when round
Through Eden's lone, enchanted ground
She look'd, and saw, the sea-the skies-
And heard the rush of many a wing,
On high behests then vanishing;
And saw the last few angel eyes,
Still ling'ring-mine among the rest,—
Reluctant leaving scenes so blest?
From that miraculous hour, the fate
Of this new, glorious Being dwelt
Forever, with a spel ike weight,
Upon my spirit-early, late,

Whate'er I did, or dream'd, or felt,
The thought of what might yet befall
That matchless creature mix'd with all.-
Nor she alone, but her whole race
Through ages yet to come-whate'er
Of feminine, and fond, and fair,
Should spring from that pure mind and face,
All waked my soul's intensest care;
Their forms, souls, feelings, still to me
Creation's strangest mystery!

It was my doom-ev'n from the first,
When witnessing the primal burst
Of Nature's wonders, I saw rise
Those bright creations in the skies,-
Those worlds instinct with life and light,
Which man, remote, but sees by night,-
It was my doom still to be haunted

By some new wonder, some sublime
And matchless work, that, for the time
Held all my soul, enchain'd, enchanted,
And left me not a thought, a dream,
A word, but on that only theme!

The wish to know-that endless thirst,

Which ev'n by quenching is awaked, And which becomes or bless'd or cursed,

As is the fount whereat 'tis slakedStill urged me onward, with desire Insatiate, to explore, inquireWhate'er the wondrous things might be That waked each new idolatry

Their cause, aim, source, whence-ever sprungTheir inmost pow'rs, as though for me Existence on that knowledge hung.

Oh what a vision were the stars,
When first I saw them burn on high,
Rolling along, like living cars

Of light, for gods to journey by!1

Intelligences qui les conduisoient. Pour les Chars, cela se lit partout; on n'a qu'ouvrir Pline, St. Clément," &c. &c.— Mémoire Historique, sur le Sabiisme, par M. FoOURMONT.

A belief that the stars are either spirits or the vehicles of

They were my heart's first passion-days And nights, unwearied, in their rays Have I hung floating, till each sense Seem'd full of their bright influence. Innocent joy! alas, how much

Of misery had I shunn'd below, Could I have still lived bless'd with such;

Nor, proud and restless, burn'd to know
The knowledge that brings guilt and wo.
Often-so much I loved to trace
The secrets of this starry race-
Have I at morn and evening run
Along the lines of radiance spun
Like webs, between them and the sun,
Untwisting all the tangled ties

Of light into their different dyes-
Then fleetly wing'd I off, in quest
Of those, the farthest, loneliest,
That watch, like winking sentinels,1
The void, beyond which Chaos dwells;
And there, with noiseless plume, pursued
Their track through that grand solitude,
Asking intently all and each

What soul within their radiance dwelt, And wishing their sweet light were speech, That they might tell me all they felt.

Nay, oft, so passionate my chase
Of these resplendent heirs of space,
Oft did I follow-lest a ray

Should 'scape me in the farthest nightSome pilgrim Comet, on his way

To visit distant shrines of light, And well remember how I sung

Exultingly, when on my sight New worlds of stars, all fresh and young, As if just born of darkness, sprung!

Such was my pure ambition then,

My sinless transport, night and morn; Ere yet this newer world of men,

And that most fair of stars was born Which I, in fatal hour, saw rise Among the flow'rs of Paradise! Thenceforth my nature all was changed, My heart, soul, senses turn'd below; And he, who but so lately ranged

Yon wonderful expanse, where glow Worlds upon worlds,-yet found his mind Ev'n in that luminous range confined,

spirits, was common to all the religions and heresies of the East. Kircher has given the names and stations of the seven archangels, who were by the Cabala of the Jews distributed through the planets.

1 According to the cosmogony of the ancient Persians, there were four stars set as sentinels in the four quarters of

Now bless'd the humblest, meanest sod
Of the dark earth where Woman trod!
In vain my former idols glisten'd

From their far thrones; in vain these ears To the once-thrilling music listen'd,

That hymn'd around my favorite spheres— To earth, to earth each thought was giv'n, That in this half-lost soul had birth; Like some high mount, whose head's in bear's, While its whole shadow rests on earth!

Nor was it Love, ev'n yet, that thrall'd
My spirit in his burning ties;

And less, still less could it be call'd

That grosser flame, round which Love flies
Nearer and nearer, till he dies-

No, it was wonder, such as thrill'd
At all God's works my dazzled sense;
The same rapt wonder, only fill'd

With passion, more profound, intense,—
A vehement, but wand'ring fire,
Which, though nor love, nor yet desire,-
Though through all womankind it took
Its range, as lawless lightnings run,
Yet wanted but a touch, a look,
To fix it burning upon One.

Then, too, the ever-restless zeal,

Th' insatiate curiosity

To know how shapes, so fair, must feelTo look, but once, beneath the seal

Of so much loveliness, and see What souls belong'd to such bright eyes— Whether, as sunbeams find their way Into the gem that hidden lies,

Those looks could inward turn their ray, And make the soul as bright as they: All this impell'd my anxious chase, And still the more I saw and knew Of Woman's fond, weak, conqu'ring race, Th' intenser still my wonder grew.

I had beheld their First, their Eve, Born in that splendid Paradise, Which sprung there solely to receive The first light of her waking eyes. I had seen purest angels lean

In worship o'er her from above; And man-oh yes, had envying seen Proud man possess'd of all her love.

the heavens, to watch over the other fixed stars, and superintend the planets in their course. The names of these four sentinel stars are, according to the Boundesh, Taschter, for the east; Satevis, for the west; Venand, for the south; and Haftorang, for the north.