Zophiel. Canto I Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A A BCBC DEDF GHGF IJIJ K L A MNMN OPOP QRQR AFAF STST A UVUV WXWX YFYF Z FA2FA2 Z WXWX XJXJ Z XXXX XXXX B2FB2F Z WXWX Z XWXW WWWW C2ZC2Z C2 FXFX WB2WWB2 ZFZF C2 C2 XPXP WPWP ZXZX WC2WX Z XXXX ZWZW D2B2D2B2 Z XE2XE2 X XXXX FZFZ XXXX XXXX Z XXFX XXXX Z Z XZXZ XXXX WB2WB2 W FF2WF2 FPKP G2 W F X X W H2XH2X W XXXX WXWX X FXFX WXWX XXXX X XXXX XXXX X XXXX X WWWW FWFW WXWX FXFX X XWXW WFWF W ZXZX KXKX WXWX XI2XZ XWX WWWW XXXX SWSW WKWK K XXX K JXJX XXXX FXFX K XKXK PXPX FWFX XA2FJ2 K XXXX KXKF X X XXXX X K2WK2W XXXX XXXX X XCXC XPXP X OB2OB2 XXXL2 WH2WH2 XXXX FZFZ XKXK XXXX XXXX X XXXX K CXCX XXXX K XXXF X K XXXX XWXW XFXF WPWP KB2KB2 H2FH2F XWXW ZFZF K FXFF X FKFK XXXXXX K XKXK FXFX X WXWX FFXF XWXW X H2 B2 XWXW XFXF J2XXX XWXX B2 WXWWX B2 XWXW B2 WXWX W XXXX W XFX PXPX XXXX WXWX FFFF XFXF W XXXX M2XM2X M2XM2X XXXX XPXP WXWX WXWX XXXX X WXWX F X XXXX X FXFX XXXX H2XH2X B2 B2XB2X XWXW FXFX B2 B2B2B2B2 B2 XPXP FXFX XWXW B2 XM2XM2 X XB2XB2 XN2XN2 WWWW XB2XB2B2 X FB2FB2 XXXF XB2XW X X XXXX WXWX X XB2XB2 XB2XB2 X B2PB2P XM2XM2 X XXXX X PXPX X XXXX XXXX X XXXX X WB2WB2 X PM2PM2 XXXX X XB2XB2 X B2WB2W X| CANTO I | A |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| I | A |
| - | |
| The time has been this holiest records say | B |
| In punishment for crimes of mortal birth | C |
| When spirits banished from the realms of day | B |
| Wandered malignant o'er the nighted earth | C |
| - | |
| And from the cold and marble lips declared | D |
| Of some blind worshipped earth created god | E |
| Their deep deceits which trusting monarchs snared | D |
| Filling the air with moans with gore the sod FN | F |
| - | |
| Yet angels doffed their robes in radiance dyed | G |
| And for a while the joys of heaven delayed | H |
| To watch benign by some just mortal's side | G |
| Or meet th' aspiring love of some high gifted maid FN | F |
| - | |
| Blest were those days can these dull ages boast | I |
| Aught to compare tho' now no more beguile | J |
| Chain'd in their darkling depths th' infernal host | I |
| Who would not brave a fiend to share an angel's smile | J |
| - | |
| - | |
| FN The god who conducted the Hebrews sent a malignant spirit to speak from the mouth of the prophets in order to deceive king Achab | K |
| - | |
| FN It is useless to note this stanza as two well known poems have lately been founded on the same passage of the Pentateuch to which it alludes | L |
| - | |
| - | |
| II | A |
| - | |
| 'Twas then there lived a captive Hebrew pair | M |
| In woe th' embraces of their youth had past | N |
| And blest their paler years one daughter fair | M |
| She flourished like a lonely rose the last | N |
| - | |
| And loveliest of her line The tear of joy | O |
| The early love of song the sigh that broke | P |
| From her young lip the best beloved employ | O |
| What womanhood disclosed in infancy bespoke | P |
| - | |
| A child of passion tenderest and best | Q |
| Of all that heart has inly loved and felt | R |
| Adorned the fair enclosure of her breast | Q |
| Where passion is not found no virtue ever dwelt | R |
| - | |
| Yet not perverted would my words imply | A |
| The impulse given by Heaven's great Artizan | F |
| Alike to man and worm mere spring whereby | A |
| The distant wheels of life while time endures roll on | F |
| - | |
| But the collective ministry that fill | S |
| About the soul their all important place | T |
| That feed her fires empower her fainting will | S |
| And write the god on feeble mortals face | T |
| - | |
| - | |
| III | A |
| - | |
| Yet anger or revenge envy or hate | U |
| The damsel knew not when her bosom burned | V |
| And injury darkened the decrees of fate | U |
| She had more pitious wept to see that pain returned | V |
| - | |
| Or if perchance tho' formed most just and pure | W |
| Amid their virtue's wild luxuriance hid | X |
| Such germ all mortal bosoms must immure | W |
| Which sometimes show their poisonous heads unbid | X |
| - | |
| If haply such the lovely Hebrew finds | Y |
| Self knowledge wept th' abasing truth to know | F |
| And innate pride that queen of noble minds | Y |
| Crushed them indignant ere a bud could grow | F |
| - | |
| - | |
| IV | Z |
| - | |
| And such ev'n now in earliest youth are seen | F |
| But would they live with armour more deform | A2 |
| Their love o'erflowing breasts must learn to screen | F |
| The bird that sweetest sings can least endure the storm | A2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| V | Z |
| - | |
| And yet despite of all the gushing tear | W |
| The melting tone the darting heart stream proved | X |
| The soul that in them spoke could spurn at fear | W |
| Of death or danger and had those she loved | X |
| - | |
| Required it at their need she could have stood | X |
| Unmoved as some fair sculptured statue while | J |
| The dome that guards it earth's convulsions rude | X |
| Are shivering meeting ruin with a smile | J |
| - | |
| - | |
| VI | Z |
| - | |
| And this at intervals in language bright | X |
| Told her blue eyes tho' oft the tender lid | X |
| Like lilly drooping languidly and white | X |
| And trembling all save love and lustre hid | X |
| - | |
| Then as young christian bard had sung they seemed | X |
| Like some Madonna in his soul so sainted | X |
| But opening in their energy they beamed | X |
| As tasteful pagans their Minerva painted | X |
| - | |
| While o'er her graceful shoulders' milky swell | B2 |
| Like those full oft on little children seen | F |
| Almost to earth her silken ringlets fell | B2 |
| Nor owned Pactolus' sands more golden sheen | F |
| - | |
| - | |
| VII | Z |
| - | |
| And now full near the hour unwished for drew | W |
| When fond Sephora hoped to see her wed | X |
| And for 'twould else expire impatient grew | W |
| To renovate her race from beauteous Egla's bed | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| VIII | Z |
| - | |
| None of their kindred lived to claim her hand | X |
| But stranger youths had asked her of her sire | W |
| With gifts and promise fair he could withstand | X |
| All save her tears and harkening her desire | W |
| - | |
| Still left her free but soon her mother drew | W |
| From her a vow that when the twentieth year | W |
| Its full fair finish o'er her beauty threw | W |
| If what her fancy fed on came not near | W |
| - | |
| She would entreat no more but to the voice | C2 |
| Of her light giver hearken and her life | Z |
| And love all yielding to that kindly choice | C2 |
| Would hush each idle wish and learn to be a wife | Z |
| - | |
| - | |
| IX | C2 |
| - | |
| Now oft it happ'd when morning task was done | F |
| And for the virgins of her household made | X |
| And lotted each her toil while yet the sun | F |
| Was young fair Egla to a woody shade | X |
| - | |
| Loved to retreat there in the fainting hour | W |
| Of sultry noon the burning sunbeam fell | B2 |
| Like a warm twilight so bereft of power | W |
| It gained an entrance thro' the leafy bower | W |
| That scarcely shrank the tender lilly bell | B2 |
| - | |
| Tranquil and lone in such a light to be | Z |
| How sweet to sense and soul the form recline | F |
| Forgets it ere felt pain and reverie | Z |
| Sweet mother of the muses heart and soul are thine FN | F |
| - | |
| - | |
| FN Every one talks and reads of groves but it is impossible for those who never felt it to conceive the effect of such a situation in a warm climate In this island the woods which are naturally so interwoven with vines as to be impervious to a human being are in some places cleared and converted into nurseries for the young coffee trees which remain sheltered from the sun and wind till sufficiently grown to transplant To enter one of these semilleros as they are here called at noon day produces an effect like that anciently ascribed to the waters of Lethe After sitting down upon the trunk of a fallen cedar or palm tree and breathing for a moment the freshness of the air and the odour of the passion flower which is one of the most abundant and certainly the most beautiful of the climate the noise of the trees which are continually kept in motion by the trade winds the fluttering and various notes though not musical of the birds the loftiness of the green canopy for the trunks of the trees are bare to a great height and seem like pillars supporting the thick mass of leaves above and the rich mellow light which the intense rays of the sun thus impeded produce have altogether such an effect that one involuntarily forgets every thing but the present and it requires a strong effort to rise and leave the place | C2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| X | C2 |
| - | |
| This calm recess on summer day she sought | X |
| And sat to tune her lute but all night long | P |
| Quiet had from her pillow flown and thought | X |
| Feverish and tired sent for th' unseemly throng | P |
| - | |
| Of boding images She scarce could woo | W |
| One song reluctant ere advancing quick | P |
| Thro' the fresh leaves Sephora's form she knew | W |
| And duteous rose to meet but fainting sick | P |
| - | |
| Her heart sank tremulously in her why | Z |
| Sought out at such an hour it half divined | X |
| And seated now beside with downcast eye | Z |
| And fevered pulse she met the pressure kind | X |
| - | |
| And warmly given while thus the matron fair | W |
| Nor yet much marr'd by time with soothing words | C2 |
| Solicitous and gently serious air | W |
| The purpose why she hither came preferr'd | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XI | Z |
| - | |
| Egla my hopes thou knowest tho' exprest | X |
| But rare lest they should pain thee I have dealt | X |
| Not rudely towards thee tender and supprest | X |
| The wish of all my heart has most vehement felt | X |
| - | |
| Know I have marked that when the reason why | Z |
| Thou still wouldst live in virgin state thy sire | W |
| Has prest thee to impart quick in thine eye | Z |
| Semblance of hope has played fain to transpire | W |
| - | |
| Words seem'd to seek thy lip but the bright rush | D2 |
| Of heart blood eloquent alone would tell | B2 |
| In the warm language of a rebel blush | D2 |
| What thy less treacherous tongue has guarded well | B2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| XII | Z |
| - | |
| Dost waste so oft alone the cheerful day | X |
| Or haply rather bath some pagan youth | E2 |
| She with quick burst 'whate'er has happ'd I'll say | X |
| Doubt thou my wisdom but regard my truth | E2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| XIII | X |
| - | |
| Long time ago while yet a twelve years' child | X |
| These shrubs and vines new planted near this spot | X |
| I sat me tired with pleasant toil and whiled | X |
| Away the time with many a wishful thought | X |
| - | |
| Of desolate Judea Every scene | F |
| Which thou so oft while sitting on thy knee | Z |
| Wouldst sing of weeping thro' my mind has been | F |
| Successive when from yon old mossy tree | Z |
| - | |
| I heard a pitious moan Wondering I went | X |
| And found a wretched man worn and opprest | X |
| He seemed with toil and years and whispering faint | X |
| He said Oh little maiden sore distrest | X |
| - | |
| I sink for very want Give me I pray | X |
| A drop of water and a cake I die | X |
| Of thirst and hunger yet my sorrowing way | X |
| May tread once more if thou my needs supply | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XIV | Z |
| - | |
| A long time missing from thy fondling arms | X |
| It chanced that day thou'dst sent me in the shade | X |
| New bread a cake of figs and wine of palms FN | F |
| Mingled with water sweet with honey made | X |
| - | |
| These did I bring raised as I could his head | X |
| Held to his lip the cup and while he quaffed | X |
| Upon my garment wiped the tears that sped | X |
| Adown his silvery beard and mingled with the draft | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| FN The palm is a very common plant in this country Assyria and generally fruitful this they cultivate like fig trees and it produces them bread wine and honey See Beloe's notes to his translation of Herodotus Mr Gibbon adds that the diligent natives celebrated either in verse or prose three hundred and sixty uses to which the trunk the branches the leaves the juice and the fruit of this plant were applied Nothing can be more curious and interesting than the natural history of the palm tree | Z |
| - | |
| - | |
| XV | Z |
| - | |
| When gaining sudden strength he raised his hand | X |
| And in this guise did bless me Mayst thou be | Z |
| A crown to him who weds thee In a land | X |
| Far distant bides a captive Hearken me | Z |
| - | |
| And choose thee now a bridegroom meet to day | X |
| O'er broad Euphrates' steepest banks a child | X |
| Fled from his youthful nurse's arms in play | X |
| Elate he bent him o'er the brink and smiled | X |
| - | |
| To see their fears who followed him but who | W |
| The keen wild anguish of that scene can tell | B2 |
| He bend o'er the brink and in their view | W |
| But ah too far beyond their aid he fell | B2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| XVI | W |
| - | |
| They wailed the long torn ringlets of their hair FN | F |
| Freighted the pitying gale deep rolled the stream | F2 |
| And swallowed the fair child no succour there | W |
| They women whither look who to redeem | F2 |
| - | |
| What the fierce waves were preying on when lo | F |
| Approached a stranger boy Aside he flung | P |
| As darted thought his quiver and his bow | K |
| And parted by his limbs the sparkling billows sung | P |
| - | |
| - | |
| FN The women I believe among all nations of antiquity were accustomed to express violent grief by tearing their hair This must have been a great and affecting sacrifice to the object bemoaned as they considered it a part of themselves and absolutely essential to their beauty Fine hair has been a subject of commendation among all people and particularly the ancients Cyrus when he went to visit his uncle Astyages found him with his eyelashes coloured and decorated with false locks the first Caesar obtained permission to wear the laurel wreath in order to conceal the bareness of his temples The quantity and beauty of the hair of Absalom is commemorated in holy writ The modern oriental ladies also set the greatest value on their hair which they braid and perfume Thus says the poet Hafiz whome Sir William Jones styles the Anacreon of Persia | G2 |
| - | |
| Those locks each curl of which is worth a hundred musk bags of China would be sweet indeed if their scent proceeded from sweetness of temper | W |
| - | |
| and again | F |
| - | |
| When the breeze shall waft the fragrance of thy locks over the tomb of Hafiz a thousand flowers shall spring from the earth that hides his corse | X |
| - | |
| Achilles clipped his yellow locks and threw them as a sacrifice upon the funeral pyre of Patroclus | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XVII | W |
| - | |
| They clung to an old palm and watched nor breath | H2 |
| Nor word dared utter while the refluent flood | X |
| Left on each countenance the hue of death | H2 |
| Ope'd lip and far strained eye spoke worse than death endured | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XVIII | W |
| - | |
| But down the flood the dauntless boy appeared | X |
| Now rising plunging in the eddy whirled | X |
| Mastering his course but now a rock he neared | X |
| And closing o'er his head the deep dark waters curled | X |
| - | |
| Then Hope groaned forth her last and drear despair | W |
| Spoke in a shriek but ere its echo wild | X |
| Had ceased to thrill restored to light and air | W |
| He climbs he gains the rock and holds alive the child | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XIX | X |
| - | |
| Now mark what chanced that infant was the son | F |
| E'vn of the king of Nineveh and placed | X |
| Before him was the youth who so had won | F |
| From death the royal heir A captive graced | X |
| - | |
| All o'er with Nature's gifts he sparkled brave | W |
| And panting for renown blushing and praised | X |
| The stripling stood and closely prest would crave | W |
| Alone a place mid warlike men and raised | X |
| - | |
| To his full wish the kingly presence left | X |
| Buoyant and bright with hope dreaming of nought | X |
| While revelled his full soul in visions deft | X |
| But blessings from his sire and pleasures of a court | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XX | X |
| - | |
| But when his mother heard she wept and said | X |
| If he our only child be far away | X |
| Or slain in war how shall our years be stayed | X |
| Friendless and old where is the hand to lay | X |
| - | |
| Our white hairs in the earth So when her fears | X |
| He saw would not be calmed he did not part | X |
| But lived in low estate to dry her tears | X |
| And crushed the full grown hopes exulting at his heart | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXI | X |
| - | |
| The old man ceased ere I could speak his face | X |
| Grew more than mortail fair a mellow light | X |
| Mantling around him fill'd the shady place | X |
| And while I wondering stood he vanished from my sight | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXII | X |
| - | |
| This I had told but shame withheld and fear | W |
| Thou'dst deem some spirit guilded me disapprove | W |
| Perchance forbid my customed wanderings here | W |
| But whencesoe'er the vision I have strove | W |
| - | |
| Still vainly to forget I've heard the mourn | F |
| Kindred afar and captive oh my mother | W |
| Should he my heaven announced exist return | F |
| And meet me drear lost wedded to another | W |
| - | |
| Then thus Sephora In the city where | W |
| Our kindred distant dwelt blood has been shed | X |
| Dreamer had such heroic boy been there | W |
| Belike he's numbered with the silent dead | X |
| - | |
| Or doth he live he knows not would not know | F |
| Thralled dead to thee in fair Assyrian arms | X |
| Who pines for him afar in fruitless woe | F |
| A phantom's bride wasting love life and charms | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXIII | X |
| - | |
| 'Tis as a vine of Galilee should say | X |
| Culturer I reck not thy support I sigh | W |
| For a young palm tree of Euphrates nay | X |
| Or let me him entwine or in my blossom die | W |
| - | |
| Thy heart is set on joys it may not prove | W |
| And panting ingrate scorns the blessings given | F |
| Hoping from dust formed man a seraph's love | W |
| And days on earth like to the days of heaven | F |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXIV | W |
| - | |
| But to my theme maiden a lord for thee | Z |
| And not of thee unworthy I have chose | X |
| Dispel the dread that in thy looks I see | Z |
| Nor make it task of anguish to disclose | X |
| - | |
| What should be thine heart's dew Remember'st thou | K |
| When to the Altar by thy father reared | X |
| We suppliant went with sacrifice and vow | K |
| A victim dove escaped and there appeared | X |
| - | |
| And would have brought thee others to supply | W |
| Its loss a Median thou dissolved to praise | X |
| Didst note the beauty of his shape and eye | W |
| And as he parted in the sunny rays | X |
| - | |
| The ringlets of his black locks clustering bright | X |
| Around his pillar neck ''tis pity he' | I2 |
| Thou saidst 'in all the comeliness and might | X |
| Of perfect man pity like him should be | Z |
| - | |
| But an idolater how nobly sweet | X |
| He tempereth pride with courtesy a flower | W |
| Drops honey when he speaks Yet 'twere most meet | X |
| To praise his majesty he stands a tower ' | - |
| - | |
| The same a false idolater no more | W |
| Now bows him to the God for whose dread ire | W |
| Fall'n on us loved but sinning we deplore | W |
| This long but just captivity Thy sire | W |
| - | |
| Receives him well and harkens his request | X |
| For know he comes to ask thee for a bride | X |
| And to be one among a people blest | X |
| Tho' deep in suffering Nor to him denied | X |
| - | |
| Art thou sad daughter weep if't be thy will | S |
| E'vn on the breast that nourished thee and ne'er | W |
| Distrest thee or compelled this bosom still | S |
| Ev'n should'st though blight its dearest hopes will share | W |
| - | |
| Nay bear thy pains but sooner in the grave | W |
| 'Twill quench my waning years if reckless thou | K |
| Of what I not command but only crave | W |
| Let my heart pine regardless of thy vow | K |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXV | K |
| - | |
| She thus 'O think not kindest I forget | X |
| Receiving so much love how much is due | X |
| From me to thee the Mede I'll wed but yet | X |
| I cannot stay these tears that gush to pain thy view ' | - |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXVI | K |
| - | |
| Sephora held her to heart the while | J |
| Grief had its way then saw her gently laid | X |
| And bade her kissing her blue eyes beguile | J |
| Slumbering the fervid noon Her leafy bed | X |
| - | |
| Sighed forth o'erpowering breath increased the heat | X |
| Sleepless had been the night her weary sense | X |
| Could now no more Lone in the still retreat | X |
| Wounding the flowers to sweetness more intense | X |
| - | |
| She sank 'Tis thus kind Nature lets our woe | F |
| Swell 'til it bursts forth from the o'erfraught breast | X |
| Then draws an opiate from the bitter flow | F |
| And lays her sorrowing child soft in the lap to rest | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXVII | K |
| - | |
| Now all the mortal maid lies indolent | X |
| Save one sweet cheek which the cool velvet turf | K |
| Had touched too rude tho' all the blooms besprent | X |
| One soft arm pillowed Whiter than the surf | K |
| - | |
| That foams against the sea rock looked her neck | P |
| By the dark glossy odorous shrubs relieved | X |
| That close inclining o'er her seemed to reck | P |
| What 'twas they canopied and quickly heaved | X |
| - | |
| Beneath her robe's white folds and azure zone | F |
| Her heart yet incomposed a fillet thro' | W |
| Peeped brightly azure while with tender moan | F |
| As if of bliss Zephyr her ringlets blew | X |
| - | |
| Sportive about her neck their gold he twined | X |
| Kissed the soft violet on her temples warm | A2 |
| And eye brow just so dark might well define | F |
| Its flexile arch throne of expression's charm | J2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXVIII | K |
| - | |
| As the vexed Caspian tho' its rage be past | X |
| And the blue smiling heavens swell o'er in peace | X |
| Shook to the centre by the recent blast | X |
| Heaves on tumultuous still and hath not power to cease | X |
| - | |
| So still each little pulse was seen to throb | K |
| Tho' passion and its pains were lulled to rest | X |
| And even and anon a pitious sob | K |
| Shook the pure arch expansive o'er her breast FN | F |
| - | |
| - | |
| FN This effect is very observable in little children who for several hours after they have cried themselves to sleep and sometimes even when a smile is on their lips are heard from time to time to utter sobs | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXIX | X |
| - | |
| Save that 'twas all tranquillity that reigned | X |
| O'er fragrance sound and beauty all was mute | X |
| Save when a dove her dear one's absence plained | X |
| And the faint breeze mourned o'er the slumberer's lute | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXX | X |
| - | |
| It chanced that day lured by the verdure came | K2 |
| Zophiel now minister of ill but ere | W |
| He sinned a heavenly angel The faint flame | K2 |
| Of dying embers on an altar where | W |
| - | |
| Raguel fair Egla's sire in secret vowed | X |
| And sacrificed to the sole living God | X |
| Where friendly shades the sacred rites enshround | X |
| The fiend beheld and knew his soul was awed | X |
| - | |
| And he bethought him of the forfeit joys | X |
| Once his in Heaven deep in a darkling grot | X |
| He sat him down the melancholy noise | X |
| Of leaf and creeping vine accordant with his thought | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXXI | X |
| - | |
| When fiercer spirits howled he but complained | X |
| Ere yet 'twas his to roam the pleasant earth | C |
| His heaven invented harp he still retained | X |
| Tho' tuned to bliss no more and had its birth | C |
| - | |
| Of him beneath some black infernal clift | X |
| The first drear song of woe and torment wrung | P |
| The spirit less severe where he might lift | X |
| His plaining voice and frame the like as now he sung | P |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXXII | X |
| - | |
| Woe to thee wild ambition I employ | O |
| Despair's dull notes thy dread effects to tell | B2 |
| Born in high heaven her peace thou could'st destroy | O |
| And but for thee there had not been a hell | B2 |
| - | |
| Thro' the celestial domes thy clarion pealed | X |
| Angels entranced beneath thy banners ranged | X |
| And stright were fiends hurled from the shrinking field | X |
| They waked in agony to wait the change | L2 |
| - | |
| Darting thro' all her veins the subtle fire | W |
| The world's fair mistress first inhaled thy breath | H2 |
| To lot of higher beings learned to aspire | W |
| Dared to attempt and doomed the world to death | H2 |
| - | |
| Thy thousand wild desires that still torment | X |
| The fiercely struggling soul where peace once dwelt | X |
| But perished feverish hope drear discontent | X |
| Impoisoning all possest Oh I have felt | X |
| - | |
| As spirits feel yet not for man we mourn | F |
| Scarce o'er the silly bird in state were he | Z |
| That builds his nest loves sings the morn's return | F |
| And sleeps at evening save by aid of thee | Z |
| - | |
| Fame ne'er had roused nor song her records kept | X |
| The gem the ore the marble breathing life | K |
| The pencil's colours all in earth had slept | X |
| Now see them mark with death his victim's strife | K |
| - | |
| Man found thee death but death and dull decay | X |
| Baffling by aid of thee his mastery proves | X |
| By mighty works he swells his narrow day | X |
| And reigns for ages on the world he loves | X |
| - | |
| Yet what the price with stings that never cease | X |
| Thou goad'st him on and when too keen the smart | X |
| He fain would pause awhile and signs for peace | X |
| Food thou wilt have or tear his victim heart | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXXIII | X |
| - | |
| Thus Zophiel still tho' now the infernal crew | X |
| Had gained by sin a privilege in the world | X |
| Allayed their torments in the cool night dew | X |
| And by the dim star light again their wings unfurled | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXXIV | K |
| - | |
| And now regretful of the joys his birth | C |
| Had promised deserts mounts and streams he crost | X |
| To find amid the loveliest spots of earth | C |
| Faint likeness of the heaven he had lost | X |
| - | |
| And oft by unsuccessful searching pained | X |
| Weary he fainted thro' the toilsome hours | X |
| And then his mystic nature he sustained | X |
| On steam of sacrifices breath of flowers | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXXV | K |
| - | |
| Sometimes he gave out oracles amused | X |
| With mortal folly resting on the shrines | X |
| Or all in some fair Sibyl's form infused | X |
| Spoke from her quivering lips or penned her mystic lines FN | F |
| - | |
| - | |
| FN This passage merely accords with the belief that the responses of the ancient oracles were spoken by fiends or evil spirits We need only look into the New Testament for a confirmation of the power which such beings were supposed to possess of speaking from the lips of mortals | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXXVI | K |
| - | |
| And now he wanders on from glade to glade | X |
| To where more precious shrubs diffuse their balms | X |
| And gliding thro' the thick inwoven shade | X |
| Where the young Hebrew lay in all her charms | X |
| - | |
| He caught a glimpse The colours in her face | X |
| Her bare white arms her lips her shining hair | W |
| Burst on his view He would have flown the place | X |
| Fearing some faithful angel rested there | W |
| - | |
| Who'd see him reft of glory lost to bliss | X |
| Wandering and miserably panting fain | F |
| To glean a scanty joy with thoughts like this | X |
| Came all he'd known and lost he writh'd with pain | F |
| - | |
| Ineffable But what assailed his ear | W |
| A sigh surprised another glance he took | P |
| Then doubting fearing gradual coming near | W |
| He ventured to her side and dared to look | P |
| - | |
| Whispering yes 'tis of earth So new found life | K |
| Refreshing looked sweet Eve with purpose fell | B2 |
| When first sin's sovereign gazed on her and strife | K |
| Had with his heart that grieved with arts of hell | B2 |
| - | |
| Stern as it was to win her o'er to death | H2 |
| Most beautiful of all in earth in heaven | F |
| Oh could I quaff for aye that fragrant breath | H2 |
| Couldst thou or being likening thee be given | F |
| - | |
| To bloom forever for me thus still true | X |
| To one dear theme my full soul flowing o'er | W |
| Would find no room for thought of what it knew | X |
| Nor picturing forfeit transport curse me more | W |
| - | |
| But oh severest pain I cannot be | Z |
| In what I love blest ev'n the little span | F |
| With all a spirit's keen capacity | Z |
| For bliss permitted the poor insect man | F |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXXVII | K |
| - | |
| The few I've seen and deemed of worth to win | F |
| Like some sweet flowret mildewed in my arms | X |
| Withered to hidiousness foul ev'n as sin | F |
| Grew fearful hags and then with potent charm FN | F |
| - | |
| - | |
| FN One of the most striking absurdities in the lately dispelled superstition of witchcraft is the extreme hidiousness and misery usually ascribed to such as made use of the agency of evil spirits I have therefore made it the result of an unforeseen necessity no female can be supposed to purchase voluntarily the power of doing mischief to others at the price of beauty and every thing like happiness on her own part | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| Of muttered word and harmful drug did learn | F |
| To force me to their will Down the damp grave | K |
| Loathing I went at Endor and uptorn | F |
| Brought back the dead when tortured Saul did crave | K |
| - | |
| To view his pending fate Fair nay as this | X |
| Young slumberer that dread witch when I arrayed | X |
| In lovely shape to meet my guileful kiss | X |
| She yielded first her lip And thou sweet maid | X |
| What is't I see a recent tear has strayed | X |
| And left its stain upon her cheek of bliss | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXXVIII | K |
| - | |
| She's fall'n to sleep in grief haply been chid | X |
| Or by rude mortal wronged So let it prove | K |
| Meet for my purpose 'mid these blossoms hid | X |
| I'll gaze and when she wakes with all that love | K |
| - | |
| And art can lend come forth He who would gain | F |
| A fond full heart in love's soft surgery skilled | X |
| Should seek it when 'tis sore allay its pain | F |
| With balm by pity prest 'tis all his own so healed | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XXXIX | X |
| - | |
| She may be mine a little year ev'n fair | W |
| And sweet as now Oh respite while possest | X |
| I lose the dismal sense of my despair | W |
| But then I will not think upon the rest | X |
| - | |
| And wherefore grieve to cloud her little day FN | F |
| Of fleeting life What doom from power divine | F |
| I bear eternal thoughts of ruth away | X |
| Wake pretty fly and while thou mayst be mine | F |
| - | |
| Tho' but an hour so thou suppli'st thy looms | X |
| With shining silk FN and in the cruel snare | W |
| See'st the fond bird entrapped but for his plumes | X |
| To work thy robes or twine amidst thy hair | W |
| - | |
| - | |
| FN The ancient Hebrews had no idea of a future state | X |
| - | |
| FN I have not been able to discover whether the use of silk was known at so early a period It is said to have been sold in Rome for its weight in gold and was considered so luxurious an article that it was considered infamous for a man to appear drest in it The Roman Pausanias says that it came from the country of the Seres a people of Asiatic Scythia | H2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| XL | B2 |
| - | |
| To wisper softly in her ear he bent | X |
| But draws him back restrained A higher power | W |
| That loved to watch o'er slumbering innocent | X |
| Repelled his evil touch and from her bower | W |
| - | |
| To lead the maid Sephora comes the sprite | X |
| Half baffled followed hovering on unseen | F |
| Till Meles fair to see and nobly dight | X |
| Received his pensive bride Gentle of mien | F |
| - | |
| She meekly stood He fastened round her arm | J2 |
| Rings of refulgent ore low and apart | X |
| Murmuring so beauteous captive shall thy charms | X |
| Forever thrall and clasp thy captive's heart | X |
| - | |
| The air breathed softer as she slowly moved | X |
| In languid resignation his quick eye | W |
| Spoke in black glances how she was approved | X |
| Who shrunk reluctant from its ardency | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XLI | B2 |
| - | |
| 'Twas sweet to look upon the goodly pair | W |
| In their contrasted loveliness her height | X |
| Might almost vie with his but heavenly fair | W |
| Of soft proportion she and sunny hair | W |
| He cast in manliest mould with ringlets murk as night | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XLII | B2 |
| - | |
| All art could give with Nature's charms was blent | X |
| His gorgeous country shone in his attire | W |
| And as he moved with tread magnificent | X |
| She could but look and looking must admire | W |
| - | |
| - | |
| XLIII | B2 |
| - | |
| And oft her drooping and resigned blue eye | W |
| She'd wistful raise to read his radiant face | X |
| But then why shrank her heart a secret sigh | W |
| Told her it most required what there it could not trace | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XLIV | W |
| - | |
| Now fair had fall'n the night The damsel mused | X |
| At her own window in the pearly ray | X |
| Of the full moon her thoughtful soul infused | X |
| Thus in her words left 'lone awhile to pray | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XLV | W |
| - | |
| What bliss for her who lives her little day | X |
| In blest obedience like to those divine | F |
| Who to her loved her earthly lord can say | X |
| 'God is thy law ' most just 'and thou art mine ' | - |
| - | |
| To every blast she bends in beauty meek | P |
| How can she shrink his arms her shelter kind | X |
| And feels no need to blanch her rosy cheek | P |
| With thoughts befitting his superior mind | X |
| - | |
| Who only sorrows when she sees him pained | X |
| Then knows to pluck away pain's fiercest dart | X |
| Or love arresting ere its gaol is gained | X |
| Steal half its venom ere it reach his heart | X |
| - | |
| 'Tis the soul's food the fervid must adore | W |
| For this the heathen insufficed with thought | X |
| Moulds him an idol of the glittering ore | W |
| Or shines his smiling goddess marble wrought | X |
| - | |
| What bliss for her e'en on this world of woe | F |
| Oh sire who mak'st yon orb strown arch thy throne | F |
| That sees thee in thy nobles work below | F |
| Shine undefaced and calls that work her own | F |
| - | |
| This I had hoped but hope too dear too great | X |
| Go to thy grave I feel thee blasted now | F |
| Give me fate's sovereign well to bear the fate | X |
| Thy pleasure sends this my sole prayer allow | F |
| - | |
| - | |
| XLVI | W |
| - | |
| Still fixed on heaven her earnest eye all dew | X |
| Seemed as it sought amid the lamps of night | X |
| For him her soul addressed but other view | X |
| Far different sudden from that pensive plight | X |
| - | |
| Recalled her quick as on primeval gloom | M2 |
| Burst the new day star when the Eternal bid | X |
| Appeared and glowing filled the dusky room | M2 |
| As 'twere a brillant cloud the form it hid | X |
| - | |
| Modest emerged as might a youth beseem | M2 |
| Save a slight scarf his beauty bare and white | X |
| As cygnet's bosom on some silver stream | M2 |
| Or young narcissus when to woo the light | X |
| - | |
| Of its first morn that flowret open springs | X |
| And near the maid he comes with timid gaze | X |
| And gently fans her with his full spread wings | X |
| Transparent as the cooling gush that plays | X |
| - | |
| From ivory fount Each bright prismatic tint | X |
| Still vanishing returning blending changing | P |
| Glowed from their fibrous mystic texture glint | X |
| Like colours o'er the full blown bubble ranging | P |
| - | |
| That pretty urchins launch upon the air | W |
| And laugh to see it vanish yet so bright | X |
| More like and even that were faint compare | W |
| As shaped from some new rain bow rosy light | X |
| - | |
| Like that which pagans say the dewy car | W |
| Precedes of their Aurora clipp'd him round | X |
| Retiring as he mov'd and evening's star | W |
| Shamed not the diamond coronal that bound | X |
| - | |
| His curly locks And still to teach his face | X |
| Expression dear to her he wooed he sought | X |
| And in his hand he held a little vase | X |
| Of virgin gold in strange devices wrought | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XLVII | X |
| - | |
| Love toned he spoke Fair sister FN art thou here | W |
| With pensive looks so near thy bridal bed | X |
| Fixed on the pale cold moon Nay do not fear | W |
| To do thee weal o'er mount and stream I've sped | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| FN Sister was an affectionate appellation used by the Jews towards all women | F |
| - | |
| - | |
| XLVIII | X |
| - | |
| Say doth thy soul in all its sweet excess | X |
| Rush to this bridegroom smooth and falsehood taught | X |
| Ah now thou yield'st thee to a loathed caress | X |
| While thy heart tells thee loud it owns him not | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| XLIX | X |
| - | |
| Hadst thou but seen on Tigris' banks this morn | F |
| Wasting her wild complaints a wretched maid | X |
| Stung with her wrongs lone beauty reft forlorn | F |
| And learned 'twas ev'n thy Meles who betrayed | X |
| - | |
| Well hadst thou then shrunk to return his love | X |
| But wherefore now on theme of sorrow bide | X |
| What would thy beauty here I wait nay prove | X |
| A spirit's power nor be my boon denied | X |
| - | |
| I'll tell thee secrets of the neither earth | H2 |
| And highest heaven or dost some service crave | X |
| Declare thy bidding best of mortal birth | H2 |
| I'll be thy winged messenger thy slave | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| L | B2 |
| - | |
| Then softly Egla Lovely being tell | B2 |
| In pity to the grief thy lips betray | X |
| The knowledge of say with some kindly spell | B2 |
| Dost come from heaven to charm my pains away | X |
| - | |
| Alas what know'st thou of my plighted lord | X |
| If guilt pollute him as unless mine ear | W |
| Deceive me in the purport of thy word | X |
| Thou mean'st t' imply kind spirit rest not here | W |
| - | |
| But to my father hasten and make known | F |
| The fearful truth my doom is his command | X |
| Writ in heaven's book I guard the oath I've sworn | F |
| Unless he will to blot it by thine hand | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| LI | B2 |
| - | |
| Thy plight to Meles little need avail | B2 |
| Zophiel replies ere morn if't be thy will | B2 |
| To Lybian deserts he shall howl his tale | B2 |
| I'll hurl him at thy word o'er forest sea and hill | B2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| LII | B2 |
| - | |
| By all the frauds which forged in his black breast | X |
| Come forth so white and silvery from his tongue | P |
| My potency he soon shall prove nor rest | X |
| To banquet on the blood of hearts by him unstrung | P |
| - | |
| And reft of all their music Every pain | F |
| By him inflicted for his own vile joys | X |
| Rend his vile self fruition not again | F |
| Shall crown such arts as now the slave employs | X |
| - | |
| But sooth thee maiden be thy soul at peace | X |
| Mine be the care to hasten to thy sire | W |
| And null thy vow let every terror cease | X |
| Perfect success attends thy least desire | W |
| - | |
| - | |
| LIII | B2 |
| - | |
| Then lowly bending with seraphic grace | X |
| The vase he proffered full and not a gem | M2 |
| Drawn forth successive from its sparkling place | X |
| But put to shame the Persian diadem | M2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| LIV | X |
| - | |
| While he Nay let me o'er thy white arms bind | X |
| These orient pearls less smooth Egla for thee | B2 |
| My thrilling substance pained by storm and wind | X |
| I sought them mid the caverns of the sea | B2 |
| - | |
| And here's a ruby drinking solar rays | X |
| I saw it redden on a mountain tip | N2 |
| Now on thy snowy bosom let it blaze | X |
| 'Twill blush still deeper to behold thy lip | N2 |
| - | |
| Look for thy hair a garland every flower | W |
| That spreads its blossoms watered by the tear | W |
| Of the sad slave in Babylonian bower | W |
| Might see its fraid bright hues perpetuate here | W |
| - | |
| For morn's light bell this changeful amythist | X |
| A sapphire for the violet's tender blue | B2 |
| Large opals for the queen rose zephyr kist | X |
| And here are emeralds of ev'ry hue | B2 |
| For ev'ry folded bud and leaflet dropped with dew | B2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| LV | X |
| - | |
| And here's a diamond cull'd from Indian mine | F |
| To gift a haughty queen it might not be | B2 |
| I knew a worthier brow sister divine | F |
| And brought the gem for well I deem for thee | B2 |
| - | |
| The 'arch chymic sun' in earth's dark bosom wrought | X |
| To prison thus a ray that when dull night | X |
| Lours o'er his realms and nature's all seems nought | X |
| She whom he grieves to leave may still behold his light FN | F |
| - | |
| Thus spake he on for still the wondering maid | X |
| Gazed as a youthful artist rapturously | B2 |
| Each perfect smooth harmonious limb survey'd | X |
| Insatiate still her beauty loving eye | W |
| - | |
| - | |
| FN It was not unusual among the nations of the east to imitate flowers with precious stones The Persian kings about the time of Artaxerxes sat when they gave audience under a vine the leaves of which were formed of gold and the grapes of emeralds | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| LVI | X |
| - | |
| For Zophiel wore a mortal form and blent | X |
| In mortal form when perfect nature shows | X |
| Her all that's fair enhanc'd fire firmament | X |
| Ocean earth flowers and gems all there disclose | X |
| - | |
| Their charms epitomized the heavenly power | W |
| To lavish beauty in this last work crown'd | X |
| And Egla form'd of fibres such as dower | W |
| Those who most feel forgot all else around | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| LVII | X |
| - | |
| He saw and softening every wily word | X |
| Spoke in more melting music to her soul | B2 |
| And o'er her sense as when the fond night bird | X |
| Woos the full rose o'erpowering fragrance stole | B2 |
| - | |
| Or when the lillies sleepier perfume move | X |
| Disturbed by too young sister fawns that play | B2 |
| Among their graceful stalks at morn and love | X |
| From their white cells to lip the dews away | B2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| LVIII | X |
| - | |
| She strove to speak but 'twas in murmurs low | B2 |
| While o'er her cheek his potent spell confessing | P |
| Deeper diffused the warm carnation glow | B2 |
| Still dewy wet with tears her inmost soul confessing | P |
| - | |
| As the little reptile in some lonely grove | X |
| With fixed bright eye of facinating flame | M2 |
| Lures on by slow degrees the plaining dove | X |
| So nearer nearer still the bride and spirit came | M2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| LIX | X |
| - | |
| Thou strong invisible invidious sprite | X |
| Now from my love my peerless mortal shield | X |
| What exultation for thy power to night | X |
| Look on thy beauteous charge why does she yield | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| LX | X |
| - | |
| Thus secret he the pearly bracelet holding | P |
| Lending his lip to accents sweetlier bland | X |
| The light that clipt him half the maid enfolding | P |
| Half given tho' dubious half her lilly hand | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| LXI | X |
| - | |
| Success seemed his but secret in the height | X |
| And pride of transport as he set at nought | X |
| And taunts her guardian power infernal light | X |
| Shot from his eye with guilt and treachery fraught | X |
| - | |
| Haply it was but Nature she bestows | X |
| Intuitive preception and while art | X |
| O'ertasks himself with guile loves to disclose | X |
| The dark soul in the eye to warn th' o'ertrusting heart | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| LXII | X |
| - | |
| Zophiel howe'er the warning came was foiled | X |
| What torments burned in his unearthly breast | X |
| The while her trembling hand untouched recoiled | X |
| That wild exulting glance the wily fiend confest | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| LXIII | X |
| - | |
| Faintly he spoke 'Tis Meles' step I here | W |
| Guilty thou know'st him wilt receive him still | B2 |
| The rosy blood driven to her heart by fear | W |
| She said in accents faint but firm I will | B2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| LXIV | X |
| - | |
| The spirit heard and all again was dark | P |
| Save as before the melancholy flame | M2 |
| Of the full moon and faint unfrequent spark | P |
| Which from the perfume's burning embers came | M2 |
| - | |
| That stood in vases round the room disposed | X |
| Shuddering and trembling to her couch she crept | X |
| Soft oped the door and quick again was closed | X |
| And thro' the pale grey moon light Meles stept | X |
| - | |
| - | |
| LXV | X |
| - | |
| But ere he yet in haste could throw aside | X |
| His broidered belt and sandals dread to illegible | B2 |
| Eager he sprang he sought to clasp his bride | X |
| He stopt a groan was heard he gasped and fell | B2 |
| - | |
| - | |
| LXVI | X |
| - | |
| Low by the couch of her who widowed lay | B2 |
| Her ivory hands convulsive clasped in prayer | W |
| But lacking power to move and when 'twas day | B2 |
| A cold black corse was all of Meles there | W |
| - | |
| - | |
| - | |
| END OF THE FIRST CANTO | X |
Maria Gowen Brooks
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
About Zophiel. Canto I
Zophiel. Canto I is a poem by Maria Gowen Brooks. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
Write your comment about Zophiel. Canto I poem by Maria Gowen Brooks
Best Poems of Maria Gowen Brooks