The Escape. Poem by Fidelia S T Hill

Fair Estelle.
* * * * *
Moons wax'd, and waned in dreary hopelessness,
And ever when my days sad task was done,
Stretched on the ground in weary listlessness
I gaz'd upon the slow departing sun;
And well nigh wish'd, when I the orb did see
That it might never rise again for me! —
Deprived of Faith, my many woes had bade me
Look down into the grave for comfort there,
But gentle patience, still prevail'd to glad me,
And humble Hope did aye defy despair: —
Estelle there is a Hope, — a saving stay
When wealth, and fame, and titles flit away
That can console, yea comfort us above
The sweet endearments, of the tenderest love.
Tho' the proud record of the noblest deeds
Shall vanish from the brain it idly feeds,
Tho' the strong ties of nature shall dissever
There is a Hope that quits the Christian never:
Which 'mid the appalling gloom of earthly woes
But clearer, brighter, more substantial grows. —
'Twas in thy gardens, proud Damascus where
One eve alone, — intensely fixed in prayer
Then my sole comfort, and continual stay,
If haply to the earth, my musings fell
Thine was the thought, thou lovely fair, Estelle
And thus I gilded oft, the doleful day. —
Rapt in mine orisons, I heard a sound
When of approaching footsteps the light bound
Caused me to turn, — and rising from my knee
Mine eye encountered the young Jumeli! —
Long time I had not seen her, and the smile
Had altogether left her laughing cheek,
She had forgotten all her roguish wile,
And much of anguish did her aspect speak:
Her soft dark eye swam in a flood of tears,
Was it for my distress, or had she fears
More nearly felt? her cheek was marble pale
She clasp'd her hands, she cross'd them on her breast,
Sigh'd, deeply sighed, and would have told a tale
Full of despair, could it have been express'd
In any other language save her own,
Of which all knowledge did my ear disown! —
Nature will speak, tho' language find no tongue
Its doubts, its hopes, nay its dark fears to tell:
Short space the Damsel paus'd, nor was it long
Ere her emphatic gestures broke the spell.
Kind was her message, for she came to save
Thy Lord from slavery, the rack, and grave.
* * * * *
Night came, the Damsel to her promise true
Her own tried slave presented to my view,
Alleyne of Brittany — my heart's dear friend,
Who with high birth, did loftier courage blend
And through much peril my freed steps attend.
Now whiles each troublous thought seem'd sunk to re
And softest sleep the Paynim eye did seal,
Her finger to her scarlet lip she pressed
And through the gardens silently did steal.
O well I wot my fair, a heavenlier night
Hath seldom open'd on frail mortals' sight! —
The marble portico — the gilded dome,
The varied shrubs of bright, unfading bloom, —
There, the red rose, in beauty deign'd to bless,
The sense with sweets, the sight with loveliness.
The moon amid her paradise of leaves
And spicy flowr's, a shadowy garland weaves,
Lights up the odour, breathing jasmine bowers,
Gilds the dark foliage of the orange groves
Plays o'er a blooming wilderness of flowr's
While liquid, silvery, sparkling ray she pours;
Where gentlest zephyr the Acaeia moves,
And night bird warbles to the spray she loves! —
* * * * *
At length the boundary gained with cautious tread,
The dark-eyed damsel bent her turban'd head,
And slowly from her girdle, at its side
Unloosed a pond'rous key, which straight applied
To the huge lock — the gates flew open wide! —
From foes, and fell captivity released
In that blest hour my bitter bondage ceased.
With graceful mein, she waved us towards the flood,
And for a little space to watch us stood; —
Kneeling I kissed the hand, that set me free,
Then look'd my last — on lovely Jumeli! —