She strove to speak, but 'twas in murmurs low,
While o'er her cheek, his potent spell confessing,
Deeper diffused the warm carnation glow
Still dewy wet with tears her inmost soul confessing.

As the little reptile, in some lonely grove,
With fixed bright eye of facinating flame
Lures on by slow degrees the plaining dove,
So nearer--nearer still--the bride and spirit came.

LIX.

"Thou, strong, invisible, invidious sprite,
Now, from my love my peerless mortal shield--
What exultation for thy power to night!
Look on thy beauteous charge!--why does she yield?"

LX.

Thus secret he, the pearly bracelet holding,
Lending his lip to accents sweetlier bland
The light that clipt him, half the maid enfolding
Half given--tho' dubious half--her lilly hand.

LXI.

Success seemed his;--but secret, in the height
And pride of transport; as he set at nought
And taunts her guardian power; infernal light
Shot from his eye, with guilt and treachery fraught.

Haply it was but Nature:--she bestows
Intuitive preception, and while art
O'ertasks himself with guile, loves to disclose
The dark soul in the eye, to warn th' o'ertrusting heart.

LXII.

Zophiel, howe'er the warning came, was foiled
What torments burned in his unearthly breast!
The while her trembling hand--untouched, recoiled,
That, wild, exulting glance, the wily fiend confest.

LXIII.

Faintly he spoke--"'Tis Meles' step I here,
Guilty thou know'st him--wilt receive him still?"--
The rosy blood driven to her heart by fear
She said, in accents faint, but firm, "I will."

LXIV.

The spirit heard; and all again was dark;
Save, as before, the melancholy flame
Of the full moon; and faint, unfrequent spark
Which from the perfume's burning embers came.

That stood in vases round the room disposed;
Shuddering and trembling to her couch she crept,--
Soft oped the door and quick again was closed,
And thro' the pale grey moon-light Meles stept.

LXV.

But ere he yet, in haste, could throw aside
His broidered belt and sandals--dread to [illegible]
Eager he sprang--he sought to clasp his bride--
He stopt--a groan was heard--he gasped and fell

LXVI.

Low by the couch of her who widowed lay
Her ivory hands convulsive clasped in prayer,
But lacking power to move; and when 'twas day,
A cold black corse was all of Meles, there.

END OF THE FIRST CANTO.

NOTES.

(1) _Wandered malignant o'er the erring earth._

This