That sweeps the bosom of thy thymy hills, Lie side by side, united e'en in death. 320 Of monarchs, where in gorgeous pomp array'd 325 She pours the solemn mockery of tears, Gave brighter colours to her cheek, and shades 330 Of deeper sadness to her eye; when loose Her ringlets wanton'd o'er her snowy breast, Or wand'ring thro' the mazes of her robe, 335 340 Fairer than Syrinx, when she fled from Pan And woo'd the beauteous maid: for her he led Shepherd and shepherdess with myrtles crown'd 345 To pipe and tabor moving; on her door He hung fresh flow'ry garlands at the blush Of May's first morn; and when the midnight moon 350 355 360 Each cheek with mirth is dimpled, and each eyė Which, ere to-morrow's eve, will pour its strain 365 370 E'en now indignant at his slighted vows, His love transform'd to hate, and the desire 375 Of dark revenge deep rankling in his breast, His treach'rous tale; and with such art commends Teresa's matchless charms, her youthful grace And simple elegance; paints with such force 380 Each glance of beauty, that the tyrant's eye His swarthy visage brightens to a smile, In expectation of his destin'd prey. The wish'd for morn arriv'd-the sacred rites. 385 Were solemniz'd, and to Alexi's cot Slow mov'd the festive train. Link'd hand in hand Nymphs to the soft guitar led on the dance, In graceful circles twin'd. The marriage torch, Beneath her nuptial veil, and o'er her breast On ev'ry breast; whom do they seek with scowls The tyrant's satellites are come to bear 395 400 Thee from thy spouse; the gaunt wolves are let loose To seize their prey; e'en now they raise their arms 406 3 A Greek dance. To clasp thy form, and with a smile that mocks ، To tear thee from me. This alone remains — This, this shall free thee.'--With these parting words The lover pierc'd the breast of his belov'd, Hung for a moment o'er her faded form 411 To look a last farewell, then plung'd his knife Beneath the mountain shadow, in the gloom Deep in his faithful bosom and expir'd. Of the dark cypress, on a bank inlaid That mourns Alexi's and Teresa's love. The vintage glows empurpling all the plain, Or tinging with a partial blush the brown Of mountain-side. Upon his lofty shed, 415 420 426 Thatch'd o'er with leaves, the peasant keeps his watch Sleepless, and views well pleas'd the fruit mature Bend the o'erloaded boughs; eager to cull The vine's rich honours, to the grateful toil |