40
But all in vain his erring weapon flies,
Pierc'd by a thousand wounds, on earth he lies.
His drooping head the heart-struck Zilia rais'd,
And on the youth in speechless anguish gaz'd;
While he, who fondly shar'd his danger, flew, 45
And from his breast a reeking sabre drew.
"Deep in my faithful bosom let me hide
"The fatal steel, that would our souls divide,"
He quick exclaims--the dying warrior cries,
"Ah, yet forbear!--by all the sacred ties, 50
"That bind our hearts, forbear"--In vain he spoke,
Friendship with frantic zeal impels the stroke:
"Thyself for ever lost, thou hop'st in vain,
"The youth replied, my spirit to detain;
"From thee, my soul, in childhood's earliest year, 55
"Caught the light pleasure, and the starting tear;
"Thy friendship then my young affections blest,
"The first pure passion of my infant breast;
"That passion, which o'er life delight has shed,
"By reason cherish'd, and by virtue fed: 60
"And still in death I feel its strong controul;
"Its sacred impulse wings my fleeting soul,
"That only lingers here till thou depart,
"Whose image lives upon my fainting heart.
Pages:
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118