No More Learning

The very name of Nazarene 1040
Was wormwood to his Paynim spleen.
Ungrateful fool! since but for brands
Well wielded in some hardy hands,
And wounds by Galileans given--
The surest pass to Turkish heaven--
For him his Houris still might wait
Impatient at the Prophet's gate.
I loved her--Love will find its way
Through paths where wolves would fear to prey;
And if it dares enough,'twere hard 1050
If Passion met not some reward--
No matter how, or where, or why,
I did not vainly seek, nor sigh:
Yet sometimes, with remorse, in vain
I wish she had not loved again.
She died--I dare not tell thee how;
But look--'tis written on my brow!
There read of Cain the curse and crime,
In characters unworn by Time:
Still, ere thou dost condemn me, pause; 1060
Not mine the act, though I the cause.
Yet did he but what I had done
Had she been false to more than one.
Faithless to him--he gave the blow;
But true to me--I laid him low:
Howe'er deserved her doom might be,
Her treachery was truth to me;
To me she gave her heart, that all
Which Tyranny can ne'er enthrall;
And I, alas! too late to save! 1070
Yet all I then could give, I gave--
'Twas some relief--our foe a grave. [ed]
His death sits lightly; but her fate
Has made me--what thou well mayst hate.
His doom was sealed--he knew it well,
Warned by the voice of stern Taheer,
Deep in whose darkly boding ear[117]
The deathshot pealed of murder near,
As filed the troop to where they fell!
He died too in the battle broil, 1080
A time that heeds nor pain nor toil;
One cry to Mahomet for aid,
One prayer to Alla all he made:
He knew and crossed me in the fray--
I gazed upon him where he lay,
And watched his spirit ebb away:
Though pierced like pard by hunter's steel,
He felt not half that now I feel.
I searched, but vainly searched, to find
The workings of a wounded mind; 1090
Each feature of that sullen corse
Betrayed his rage, but no remorse. [118]
Oh, what had Vengeance given to trace
Despair upon his dying face!
The late repentance of that hour
When Penitence hath lost her power
To tear one terror from the grave,[ee]
And will not soothe, and cannot save.

* * * * *

"The cold in clime are cold in blood,
Their love can scarce deserve the name; 1100
But mine was like the lava flood
That boils in AEtna's breast of flame.
I cannot prate in puling strain
Of Ladye-love, and Beauty's chain:
If changing cheek, and scorching vein,[ef]
Lips taught to writhe, but not complain,
If bursting heart, and maddening brain,
And daring deed, and vengeful steel,
And all that I have felt, and feel,
Betoken love--that love was mine, 1110
And shown by many a bitter sign.
'Tis true, I could not whine nor sigh,
I knew but to obtain or die.
I die--but first I have possessed,
And come what may, I _have been_ blessed.
Shall I the doom I sought upbraid?
No--reft of all, yet undismayed[eg]
But for the thought of Leila slain,
Give me the pleasure with the pain,
So would I live and love again. 1120
I grieve, but not, my holy Guide!
For him who dies, but her who died:
She sleeps beneath the wandering wave--
Ah! had she but an earthly grave,
This breaking heart and throbbing head
Should seek and share her narrow bed.
She was a form of Life and Light,[119]
That, seen, became a part of sight;
And rose, where'er I turned mine eye,
The Morning-star of Memory! 1130

"Yes, Love indeed is light from heaven;[eh][120]
A spark of that immortal fire
With angels shared, by Alia given,
To lift from earth our low desire.
Devotion wafts the mind above,
But Heaven itself descends in Love;
A feeling from the Godhead caught,
To wean from self each sordid thought;
A ray of Him who formed the whole;
A Glory circling round the soul! 1140
I grant _my_ love imperfect, all
That mortals by the name miscall;
Then deem it evil, what thou wilt;
But say, oh say, _hers_ was not Guilt!
She was my Life's unerring Light:
That quenched--what beam shall break my night? [ei]
Oh!