Alexander And Zenobia

Fair was the evening and brightly the sun
        Was shining on desert and grove,
Sweet were the breezes and balmy the flowers
        And cloudless the heavens above.
It was Arabia's distant land
        And peaceful was the hour;
Two youthful figures lay reclined
        Deep in a shady bower.

One was a boy of just fourteen
        Bold beautiful and bright;
Soft raven curls hung clustering round
        A brow of marble white.

The fair brow and ruddy cheek
        Spoke of less burning skies;
Words cannot paint the look that beamed
        In his dark lustrous eyes.

The other was a slender girl,
        Blooming and young and fair.
The snowy neck was shaded with
        The long bright sunny hair.

And those deep eyes of watery blue,
        So sweetly sad they seemed.
And every feature in her face
        With pensive sorrow teemed.

The youth beheld her saddened air
        And smiling cheerfully
He said, 'How pleasant is the land
        Of sunny Araby!

'Zenobia, I never saw
        A lovelier eve than this;
I never felt my spirit raised
        With more unbroken bliss!

'So deep the shades, so calm the hour,
        So soft the breezes sigh,
So sweetly Philomel begins
        Her heavenly melody.

'So pleasant are the scents that rise
        From flowers of loveliest hue,
And more than all -- Zenobia,
        I am alone with you!

Are we not happy here alone
        In such a healthy spot?'
He looked to her with joyful smile
        But she returned it not.

'Why are you sorrowful?' he asked
        And heaved a bitter sigh,
'O tell me why those drops of woe
        Are gathering in your eye.'

'Gladly would I rejoice,' she said,
        'But grief weighs down my heart.
'Can I be happy when I know
        Tomorrow we must part?

'Yes, Alexander, I must see
        This happy land no more.
At break of day I must return
        To distant Gondal's shore.

'At morning we must bid farewell,
        And at the close of day
You will be wandering alone
        And I shall be away.

'I shall be sorrowing for you
        On the wide weltering sea,
And you will perhaps have wandered here
        To sit and think of me.'

'And shall we part so soon?' he cried,
        'Must we be torn away?
Shall I be left to mourn alone?
        Will you no longer stay?

'And shall we never meet again,
        Hearts that have grown together?
Must they at once be rent away
        And kept apart for ever?'

'Yes, Alexander, we must part,
        But we may meet again,
For when I left my native land
        I wept in anguish then.

'Never shall I forget the day
        I left its rocky shore.
We thought that we had bid adieu
        To meet on earth no more.

'When we had parted how I wept
        To see the mountains blue
Grow dimmer and more distant -- till
        They faded from my view.

'And you too wept -- we little thought
        After so long a time,
To meet again so suddenly
        In such a distant clime.

'We met on Grecia's classic plain,
        We part in Araby.
And let us hope to meet again
        Beneath our Gondal's sky.'

'Zenobia, do you remember
        A little lonely spring
Among Exina's woody hills
        Where blackbirds used to sing,

'And when they ceased as daylight faded
        From the dusky sky
The pensive nightingale began
        Her matchless melody?

'Sweet bluebells used to flourish there
        And tall trees waved on high,
And through their ever sounding leaves
        The soft wind used to sigh.

'At morning we have often played
        Beside that lonely well;
At evening we have lingered there
        Till dewy twilight fell.

'And when your fifteenth birthday comes,
        Remember me, my love,
And think of what I said to you
        In this sweet spicy grove.

'At evening wander to that spring
        And sit and wait for me;
And 'ere the sun has ceased to shine
        I will return to thee.

'Two years is a weary time
        But it will soon be fled.
And if you do not meet me -- know
        I am not false but dead.'

*   *   *     

Sweetly the summer day declines
        On forest, plain, and hill
And in that spacious palace hall
        So lonely, wide and still.

Beside a window's open arch,