Droop'd dripping on the oar (their jury-Light to the rocks that roof'd them, which the sun mast), And lifting him with care into the cave, The gentle girl, and her attendant,—one Had never seen, the maid, or whatsoe'er She was, appear'd distinct, and tall, and fair. Her brow was overhung with coins of gold, That sparkled o'er the auburn of her hair, Her clustering hair, whose longer locks were roll'd In braids behind, and though her stature were Even of the highest for a female mould, They nearly reach'd her heel; and in her air There was a something which bespoke command, As one who was a lady in the land. Her hair, I said, was auburn; but her eyes Were black as death, their lashes the same hue, Of downcast length, in whose silk-shadow lies Deepest attraction, for when to the view Forth from its raven-fringe the full glance flies, Ne'er with such force the swiftest arrow flew; 'Tis as the snake, late coil'd, who pours his length, And hurls at once his venom and his strength. Her brow was white and low, her cheek's Ever to have seen such; for she was one I'll tell you why I say so, for 'tis just They will destroy a face which mortal And such was she, the lady of the cave: Young, yet her elder, and of brow less Simpler, and yet of colours not so grave; grave, And more robust of figure,—then begun For, as you know,the Spanish women banish Bright hues when out of doors, and yet, while wave They made a fire, but such a fire as they And need he had of slumber yet, for none Upon the moment could contrive with such Had suffer'd more - his hardships were Materials as were cast up round the bay, comparative Some broken planks, and oars, that to the To those relatedin my grand-dad's Nartouch rative. Were nearly tinder, since so long they lay That there was fuel to have furnish'd twenty. broke, and found Juan slumbering Fast in his cave, and nothing clash'd upon rill, flame, And young Aurora kiss'd her lips with And the young beams of the excluded sun, dew, Troubled him not, and he might sleep his fill; Taking her for a sister; just the same Mistake you would have made on seeing the | Where the blue veins look'd shadowy two, Although the mortal, quite as fresh and fair, Had all the advantage too of not being air. shrunk, and weak And his black curls were dewy with the spray, Which weigh'd upon them yet, all damp and salt, Mix'd with the stony vapours of the vault |