Love Repelled

He who gives his heart to a lovely form
May look for no rest but a life of storm.
If the gold of union be still his quest,
With a fond vain dream love deludes his breast.
As the passionate blood from his heart distils,
He would see the form that his fancy fills.
When his tearful eyes have obtained the grace,
He longs for a kiss and a close embrace.
If round his darling his arm he throws,
The thoughts of parting renew his woes.
Love may not lead us to perfect bliss :
Life is not sweeter for love like this.
From the secret grief of the soul it springs,
And self-earned death is the end it brings.
How should his days in sweet calm pass by
Who must drink the blood of his heart or die ?
When on Yusuf, seen in her vision, as yet
No waking eye had Zulaikha set,
One wish alone in her heart might dwell, —
To look on the form which she loved so well.
When the sight of her darling had blessed her eyes,
Her bosom yearned for a sweeter prize,
And her loving arms round that form to wind
Was the longing thought of her heart and mind,
With a kiss on his ruby-red lips impressed,
By his arm encircled, to take her rest.
When a youth in the spring through a garden goes,
His heart marked like a tulip, for love of the rose,
First on its petals he looks with delight,
And then plucks the fair flower that has charmed his sight.
With winning art would Zulaikha woo ;
But Yusuf far from her gaze withdrew.
Tears of hot blood would Zulaikha shed ;
But her tears were idle, for Yusuf fled.
Zulaikha’s soul with deep wounds was scarred ;
But the heart of Yusuf was cold and hard.
Still on his cheek would Zulaikha gaze ;
But Yusuf never his eye would raise.
For a glance from her darling Zulaikha burned ;
But Yusufs look from her look was turned.
His eye he kept lest his heart might err.
And no fond glance would he bend on her.
What rest has the lover who pines alone,
If his darling’s eye may not meet his own ?
He sheds his tears, and he heaves his sighs,
Hoping to gaze on his loved one’s eyes.
If still those eyes to his love she close.
With the blood of his heart he must weep his woes.
When this heavy load on her bosom lay
Zulaikha wasted from day to day.
In the chilling autumn of pain and grief
The tulip banished the pink rose-leaf.
Under the weight of her sorrow she sank,
And the stately young cypress-tree withered and shrank.
Gone was the splendour her lips had shed,
And the light that had shone from her cheek was dead.
Taint and weary she hardly through
Her long sweet tresses her fingers drew.
Scarce would she look at her mirror ; she
Kept her eyes bent down with her head on her knee.
No borrowed bloom on her cheek was spread,
Tor the blood that she wept from her heart was red.
The world about her was black, and why
Should she darken her orbs with the jetty dye ?
If under those lids the dark tint had lain,
The tears that she shed would have washed them again.
When Zulaikha’s heart with her wound was tom
She rebuked her spirit with queenly scorn :
“ Shame on thee ! Disgrace on thy name thou hast brought
By love of the slave whom thy gold has bought.
A lady thou on a princely throne,
Wilt thou stoop to make love to a slave of thine own ?
The chains of thy love on a monarch fling :
A prince’s daughter should love a king.
But of all that is strange ’tis most strange that he
Should shrink from love offered by one like thee.
If the dames of Memphis but knew thy shame,
Where were the end of their scorn and blame ?”
Thus spoke Zulaikha ; but still she felt
That he alone in her fond heart dwelt.
Him she could not banish, but strove awhile
To charm her pain with this simple guile.
When the loved one possesses the lover’s soul,
Can he tear himself free from her sweet control ?
You may rend his heart from his body, yet
His faith to his love he will never forget.
The words of the love-stricken bard are true :
“ Musk will keep its scent and the rose its hue.
And how may the lover have power to part
From the soul of his soul and the heart of his heart ? ”