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wrongs his thoughts, they more himself upbraid The her, though undesign'd, the wretch

he made; Betspeechless all, deep, dark, and unexprest, Tay bleed within that silent cell-his breast.

Stal onward, fair the breeze, nor rough

The blue waves

the surge,

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These greetings o'er, the feelings that

o'erflow,
Yet grieve to win him back without a blow;
They sail'd prepared for vengeance - had
they known
A woman's hand secured that deed her own,
She were their queen - less scrupulous are
they
Than haughty Conrad how they win their
way.
With many an asking smile, and wonder-
ing stare,
They whisper rouud. and gaze upon Gulnare;
And her, at once above-beneath her sex,
Whom blood appall'd not, their regards
perplex.

To Conrad turns her faint imploring eye,
She drops her veil, and stands in silence by;
Her arms are meekly folded on that breast,
Which Conrad safe-to fate resign'd the rest.
Though worse than phrensy could that

bosom fill, Extreme in love or hate, in good or ill, The worst of crimes had left her woman still!

This Conrad mark'd, and felt ah! could
he less?

Hate of that deed- but grief for her distress;
What she has done no tears can wash away,
And Heaven must punish on its angry day:
But-it was done: he knew, whate er her
guilt,

sport around the stern they For him that poniard smote, that blood was

urge;

spilt;

Fan the horizon's verge appears a speck, And he was free!— and she for him had given

-a mast-a sail-an armed deck! The little bark her men of watch descry, And ampler canvas woos the wind from high; And now he turn'd him to that dark-eyed

Her all on earth, and more than all in heaven!

She bears her down majestically near,

slave

Sped on her prow, and terror in her tier; Whose brow was bow'd beneath the glance fash is seen the ball beyond their bow

he gave,

Bos harmless, hissing to the deep below. Who now seem'd changed and humbled:Ip ruse keen Conrad from his silent trance,

fain and meek,

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Had lost its firmness, and his voice its tone. "Gulnare!"-but she replied not-"dear Gulnare!"

She raised her eye-her only answer there At once she sought and sunk in his embrace: If he had driven her from that resting-place, His had been more or less than mortal heart, But-good or ill-it bade her not depart. Perchance, but for the bodings of his breast, His latest virtue then had join'd the rest. Yet even Medora might forgive the kiss That ask'd from form so fair no more than this,

The first, the last that Frailty stole from Faith-

To lips where Love had lavish'd all his breath,

To lips - whose broken sighs such fragrance fling,

As he had fann'd them freshly with his wing!

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To them the very rocks appear to smile; The haven hums with many a cheering sound,

The beacons blaze their wonted stations round,

The boats are darting o'er the curly bay, And sportive dolphins bend them through

the spray; Even the hoarse sea-bird's shrill, discordant shriek,

Greets like the welcome of his tuneless beak! Beneath each lamp that through its lattice gleams,

Their fancy paints the friends that trim

the beams.

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Refused to aid his heavy heart's deman The portal opens-'tis a well known face But not the form he panted to embrace; Its lips are silent- twice his own essay'd And fail'd to frame the question th delay'd;

He snatch'd the lamp-its light will answ

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He turn'd not-spoke not-sunk not-fi And set the anxious frame that lately shoc his look, And know, but dare not own, we gaze in va He gazed - how long we gaze despite of pa | In life itself she was so still and fair, That death with gentler aspect withe there;

And the cold flowers her colder hand c
In that last grasp as tenderly were strai
tain'd,
And made it almost mockery yet to wee
As if she scarcely felt, but feign'd a sle
The long dark lashes fringed her lids

snow,

And veil'd-thought shrinks from all th

Jurk'd belowOh! o'er the eye death most exerts his mig And hurls the spirit from her throne light!

Sinks those blue orbs in that long last eclip But spares, as yet, the charm around h lips

Yet, yet they seem as they forbore to smil And wish'd repose-but only for a while But the white shroud, and each extend tress.

Long-fair but spread in utter lifelessnes Which, late the sport of every summer win Escaped the baffled wreath that strove bind;

These-and the pale pure cheek, became On Grief's vain eye - the blindest of the the bierblind!

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LARA.

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Each trace wax'd fainter of his course, till all
Had nearly ceased his memory to recal.
His sire was dust, his vassals could declare,
'Twas all they knew, that Lara was not there;
Nor sent, nor came he, till conjecture grew
Cold in the many, anxious in the few.
His hall scarce echoes with his wonted name,
His portrait darkens in its fading frame,
Another chief consoled his destined bride,
The young forgot him, and the old had died;
"Yet doth he live!" exclaims the impatient
heir,

And sighs for sables which he must not wear.
A hundred scutcheons deck with gloomy

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He comes at last in sudden loneliness And whence they know not, why they nee not guess;

They more might marvel, when the gree
Not that he came, but came not long befor
ing's o'er,
No train is his beyond a single page,
|Of foreign aspect, and of tender age.
To those that wander as to those that stay
Years had roll'd on, and fast they speed awa
But lack of tidings from another clime
Had lent a flagging wing to weary Tim
They see, they recognise, yet almost deer
He lives, nor yet is past his manhood's prim
The present dubious, or the past a dream
Though sear❜d by toil, and something touch
by time;
His faults, whate'er they were,

if scard

forgot, Might be untaught him by his varied lot Nor good nor ill of late were known, h

name

Might yet uphold his patrimonial fame His soul in youth was haughty, but his sin No more than pleasure from the striplin wins;

And such, if not yet harden'd in their cours Might be redeem'd, nor ask a long remors

And they indeed were changed

quickly seen Whate'er he be, 'twas not what he had been That brow in furrow'd lines had fix'd a last,

And spake of passions, but of passion past
The pride, but not the fire, of early day
Coldness of mien, and carelessness of praise
A high demeanour, and a glance that too
Their thoughts from others by a single look
And that sarcastic levity of tongue,
The stinging of a heart the world hath stuns
That darts in seeming playfulness around
And makes those feel that will not ow
the wound;

All these scem'd his, and something mor
beneath,
Than glance could well reveal, or accen
breathe.

Ambition, glory, love, the common aim, That some can conquer, and that all would

claim,

Within his breast appear'd no more to strive Yet scem'd as lately they had been alive. And some deep feeling it were vain to trace At moments lighten'd o'er his livid face

Not much he loved long question of the And then, his rarely call'd attendants said, Through night's long hours would sound his hurried tread

past, Nor told of wondrous wilds, and deserts vast, In those far lands where he had wander'd lone,

And as himself would have it seem-un-
known:

Yet these in vain his eye could scarcely scan,
Ner glean experience from his fellow-man;
But what he had beheld he shunn'd to show,
A hardly worth a stranger's care to know;
If still more prying such inquiry grew,
His brow fell darker, and his words more
few.

Not unrejoiced to see him once again, Warm was his welcome to the haunts of men; Born of high lineage, link'd in high command,

O'er the dark gallery, where his fathers frown'd

In rude but antique portraiture around: They heard, but whisper'd" that must not be knownThe sound of words less earthly than his own. Yes, they who chose might smile, but some had seen

They scarce knew what, but more than should have been.

Why gazed he so upon the ghastly head
Which hands profane had gather'd from
the dead,

That still beside his open'd volume lay,
As if to startle all save him away?
Why slept he not when others were at rest?
Why heard no music and received no guest?
All was not well they deem'd - but where
the wrong?

He mingled with the Magnates of his land;
Jind the carousals of the great and gay,
And saw them smile or sigh their hours away;
Bat still he only saw, and did not share Some knew perchance-but 'twere a tale
The common pleasure or the general care;
too long;
He did not follow what they all pursued And such besides were too discreetly wise,
With hope still baffled, still to be renew'd; To more than hint their knowledge in
far shadowy honour, nor substantial gain,
to beauty's preference, and the rival's pain: But if they would - they could "_ around
and him some mysterious circle thrown

surmise;

the board,

Repell'd approach, and show'd him still Thus Lara's vassals prattled of their lord.

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Praise of gladness, peril of a grave,
barn he tried-he ransack'd all below,
And found his recompense in joy or woe,
tame, trite medium; for his feelings
sought

that intenseness an escape from thought: The tempest of his heart in scorn had gazed that the feebler elements hath raised; The rapture of his heart had look'd on high, And ask'd if greater dwelt beyond the sky: hain d to excess, the slave of each extreme, How woke he from the wildness of that

To

dream?

! he told not-but he did awake
curse the wither'd heart that would
not break.

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channel make

In windings bright and mazy like the snake.
All was so still, so soft in earth and air,
You scarce would start to meet a spirit there;
Secure that nought of evil could delight
To walk in such a scene, on such a night!
It was a moment only for the good:
So Lara deem'd, nor longer there he stood,
But turn'd in silence to his castle-gate ;
Such scene his soul no more could contem-
plate:

Such scene reminded him of other days,
Of skies more cloudless, moons of purer
blaze,

Of nights more soft and frequent, hearts
that now-

Books, for his volume heretofore was Man,
With eye more curious he appear'd to scan, No-no-the storm may beat upon his brow,
lad oft, in sudden mood, for many a day Unfelt unsparing-but a night like this.
From all communion he would start away: A night of beauty, mock'd such breast as his

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