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, These greetings o'er, the feelings that o'erflow, To Conrad turns her faint imploring eye, 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 Hate of that deed- but grief for her distress; 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, 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! 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. 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 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 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; LARA. Each trace wax'd fainter of his course, till all And sighs for sables which he must not wear. He comes at last in sudden loneliness And whence they know not, why they nee not guess; They more might marvel, when the gree 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 All these scem'd his, and something mor 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- Yet these in vain his eye could scarcely scan, 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 That still beside his open'd volume lay, He mingled with the Magnates of his land; surmise; the board, Repell'd approach, and show'd him still Thus Lara's vassals prattled of their lord. Praise of gladness, peril of a grave, 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 channel make In windings bright and mazy like the snake. Such scene reminded him of other days, Of nights more soft and frequent, hearts Books, for his volume heretofore was Man, |