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name So often and so vainly sought Has little time for peaceful thought；
And so they turn not back to gaze； Where faithful memory displays Her
record of departed days； But oh！ how loves the eye of age； To move along
its pictured page； To scan and number； o'er and o'er； The joys that may
return no more； The hopes that； blighted in their bloom； By
disappointment's chilly gloom； Were given sadly to the tomb； The loves so
wildly once enjoyed； By time's unsparing hand destroyed； The bright
imaginative dreams； Portrayed by restless fancy's beams； By restless
fancy's beams portrayed； Alas！ but to delude and fade！ To count these o'er
and o'er again Is age's sole resort from pain。 Then； stranger； marvel not
that I Have claimed so long thy listening ear； I could not pass in silence
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by Themes to my memory so dear； As those which make my story's
close Mazelli's love； Mazelli's woes。
III。
Ascending from the golden east； The sun had gained his zenith height；
The guests were gathered to the feast； Prepared to grace the marriage rite；
The youthful and the old were there； The rustic swain and bashful fair；
The aged； reverend and gray； Yet hale； and garrulous； and gay； Each told；
to while the time away； Some tale of his own wedding day； The youthful；
timorous and shy； Spoke less with lip than tell…tale eye； That； in its stolen
glances； sends The language Love best； comprehends。 The noontide hour
goes by； and yet The bridegroom tarrieswhy？ and where？ Sure he
could not his vows forget； When she who loves him is so fair！ And then
his honour； faith； and pride； Had bound him to a meaner bride； If once
his promise had been given； But she； so pure； so far above The
common forms of earthly mould； So like the incarnate shapes of love；
Conceived； and born； and nursed in heaven； His love for her could ne'er
grow cold！ And yet he comes not。 Half way now； From where； at his
meridian height； He pours his fullest； warmest light； To where； at eve；
in his decline； The day…god sinks into the brine； When his diurnal task is
done； Descends his ever burning throne； And still the bridegroom is not；
there Say； why yet tarries he； and where？
IV。
Within an arbour； rudely reared； But to the maiden's heart endeared By
every tie that binds the heart； By hope's； and love's； and memory's art；
For it was here he first poured out In words； the love she could not doubt；…
… Mazelli silent sits apart。 Did ever dreaming devotee； Whose restless
fancy； fond and warm； Shapes out the bright ideal form To which he
meekly bends the knee； Conceive of aught so fair as she？ The holiest
seraph of the sphere Most holy； if by chance led here； Might drink such
light from those soft eyes； That he would hold them far more dear Than
all the treasures of the skies。 Yet o'er her bright and beauteous brow Shade
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after shade is passing now； Like clouds across the pale moon glancing； As
thought on rapid thought advancing； Thrills through the maiden's
trembling breast； Not doubting； and yet not at rest。 Not doubting！ Man
may turn away And scoff at shrines； where yesterday He knelt； in earnest
faith； to pray； And wealth may lose its charm for him； And fame's alluring
star grow dim； Devotion； avarice； glory； all The pageantries of earth may
pall； But love is of a higher birth Than these； the earth…born things of
earth； A spark from the eternal flame； Like it； eternally the same； It is not
subject to the breath Of chance or change； of life or death。 And so doubt
has no power to blight Its bloom； or quench its deathless light； A
deathless light； a peerless bloom； That beams and glows beyond the tomb！
Go tell the trusting devotee； His worship is idolatry； Say to the searcher
after gold； The prize he seeks is dull and cold； Assure the toiler after fame；
That； won； 'tis but a worthless name； A mocking shade； a phantasy； And
they； perchance； may list to thee； But say not to the trusting maid； Her love
is scorned； her faith betrayed； As soon thy words may lull the gale； As
gain her credence to the tale！ And still the bridegroom is not there Oh！
why yet tarries he； and where？
V。
It was the holy vesper hour； The time for rest； and peace； and prayer；
When falls the dew； and folds the flower Its petals； delicate and fair；
Against the chilly evening air； And yet the bridegroom was not there。
The guests； who lingered through the day； Had glided； one by one； away；
And then； with pale and pensive ray； The moon began to climb the sky；
As from the forest； dim and green； A small and silent band was seen
Emerging slow and solemnly； With cautious step； and measured tread；
They moved as those who bear the dead； And by no lip a word was spoke；
Nor other sound the silence broke； Save when； low； musical； and clear；
The voice of waters passing near； Was softly wafted to the ear； And the
cool； fanning twilight breeze； That lightly shook the forest trees； And crept
from leaf to trembling leaf； Sighed； like to one oppressed with grief。 Why
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move they with such cautious care？ What precious burden do they bear？
Hush； questioner！ the dead are there； The victim of revenge and hate；
Of fierce Ottali's fiery pride； With that stern minister of fate； As cold
and lifeless by his side。
VI。
Still onward； solemnly and slow； And speaking not a word； they go；
Till pausing in their way before Mazelli's quiet cottage door； They gently
lay their burden down。 Whence comes that shriek of wild despair
That rises wildly on the air？ Whose is the arm so fondly thrown Around
the cold； unconscious clay； That cannot its caress repay？ Such wordless
wo was in that cry； Such pain； such hopeless agony； No soul； excluded
from the sky； Whom unrelenting justice hath Condemned to bear the
second death； E'er breathed upon the troubled gale A wilder or a sadder
wail； It rose； all other sounds above； The dirge of peace； and hope； and
love！
VII。
And day on weary day went by； And like the drooping autumn leaf；
She faded slow and silently； In her deep； uncomplaining grief； For； sick
of life's vacuity； She neither sought nor wished relief。 And daily from
her cheek； the glow Departed； and her virgin brow Was curtained with a
mournful gloom； A shade prophetic； of the tomb； And her clear eyes； so
blue and bright； Shot forth a keen； unearthly light； As if the soul that in
them lay； Were weary of its garb of clay； And prayed to pass from earth
away； Nor was that prayer vain； for ere The frozen monarch of the year；
Had blighted； with his icy breath； A single bud in summer's wreath； They
shrouded her； and made her grave； And laid her down at Lodolph's side；
And by the wide Potomac's wave； Repose the bridegroom and the bride。
'Tis said； that； oft at summer midnight； there； When all is hushed and
voiceless； and the air； Sweet； soothing minstrel of the viewless hand；
Swells rippling through the aged trees； that stand With their broad boughs
above the wave depending； With the low gurgle of the waters blending
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The rustle of their foliage； a light boat； Bearing two shadowy forms； is
seen to float Adown the stream； without or oar or sail； To break the wave；
or catch the driving gale； Smoothly and steadily its course is steered； Until
the shadow of yon cliff is neared； And then； as if