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I know not why, but in that hour to-night,
Even as they gazed, a sudden tremor came,
And swept, as 't were, across their hearts'
delight,

Like the wind o'er a harp-string, or a
flame,

When one is shook in sound, and one in sight;

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One of the two, according to your choice,
Woman or wine, you'll have to undergo;
Both maladies are taxes on our joys:
But which to choose, I really hardly
know;

And thus some boding flash'd through And if I had to give a casting voice,

either frame,

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For both sides I could many reasons

show,

And then decide, without great wrong to either,

It were much better to have both than neither.

XXVI

200

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823

And midnight listens to the lion's roar,
And long, long deserts scorch the camel's
foot,

Or heaving whelm the helpless caravan;
And as the soil is, so the heart of man.

LVI

440

Afric is all the sun's, and as her earth
Her human clay is kindled; full of power
For good or evil, burning from its birth,
The Moorish blood partakes the planet's
hour,

And like the soil beneath it will bring forth:
Beauty and love were Haidée's mother's

dower;

But her large dark eye show'd deep Passion's force,

Though sleeping like a lion near a source.

LVII

Her daughter, temper'd with a milder ray, Like summer clouds all silvery, smooth, and fair,

450

Till slowly charged with thunder they display

Terror to earth, and tempest to the air, Had held till now her soft and milky way; But overwrought with passion and despair,

The fire burst forth from her Numidian veins,

Even as the Simoom sweeps the blasted plains.

LVIII

The last sight which she saw was Juan's gore,

And he himself o'ermaster'd and cut down;

His blood was running on the very floor Where late he trod, her beautiful, her

own;

460

Thus much she view'd an instant and no more,

Her struggles ceased with one convulsive groan;

On her sire's arm, which until now scarce

held

Her writhing, fell she like a cedar fell'd.

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