Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/216

With brighter crimson.—Mid their raven curls
My hand I'll lay,—and dedicate them there,
Even in those hallow'd courts to Israel's God,
Two spotless lambs, well pleasing in his sight.
—But yet, methinks, thou 'rt paler grown, my love!—
And the pure sapphire of thine eye looks dim,
As though 't were wash'd with tears."—
                                          —Faintly she smiled,—
"One doubt, my lord, I fain would have thee solve.—
Gems of rich lustre, and of countless cost
Were to my keeping trusted.—Now, alas!
They are demanded.—Must they be restored?—
Or may I not a little longer gaze
Upon their dazzling hues?"—His eye grew stern,
And on his lip there lurk'd a sudden curl
Of indignation. "Doth my wife propose
Such doubt?—as if a master might not claim
His own again!”——"Nay Rabbi, come behold
These priceless jewels ere I yield them back."
So to their spousal chamber with soft hand
Her lord she led.—There on a snow-white couch
Lay his two sons, pale, pale and motionless,
Like fair twin-lillies, which some grazing kid
In wantonness had cropt.—"My sons!—My sons!—
Light of my eyes!" the astonish'd father cried,—
"My teachers in the law!—whose guileless hearts,
And prompt obedience warn'd me oft to be
More perfect with my God!"—
                                               To earth he fell,
Like Lebanon's rent cedar; while his breast
Heaved with such groans as when the labouring soul
Breaks from its clay companions' close embrace.—