It was so wan, and transparent of hue, You might have seen the moon shine through. XXI. К I come from my rest to him I love best, « 'Tis said the lion will turn and flee « From a maid in the pride of her purity; « And the power on high, that can shield the good Thus from the tyrant of the wood, « Hath extended its mercy to guard me as well « From the hands of the leaguering Infidel. << I come and if I come in vain, « Never, oh never, we meet again! « Thou hast done a fearful deed << In falling away from thy father's creed : « But dash that turban to earth, and sign « The sign of the cross; and for ever be mine; Wring the black drop from thy heart, « And to-morrow unites us no more to part. D And where should our bridal couch be spread? << In the midst of the dying and the dead? « For to-morrow we give to the slaughter and flame << The sons and the shrines of the Christian name. « None, save thou and thine, I've sworn, << Shall be left upon the morn: ◄ But thee will I bear to a lovely spot, « Where our hands shall be joined, and our sorrow forgot << There thou yet shalt be my bride, "When once again I've quelled the pride « Of Venice; and her hated race « Have felt the arm they would debase Upon his hand she laid her own— Light was the touch, but it thrilled to the bone, Which fixed him beyond the power to start. Strike on the pulse with such feeling of fear, And his heart sank so still that it felt like stone, Of mind, that made each feature play As they seem, through the dimness, about to come do From the shadowy wall where their images frown; Fearfully flitting to and fro, As the gusts on the tapestry come and << If not for love of me be given go. « Thus much, then, for the love of heaven, Again I say that turban teari « From off thy faithless brow, and swear « A heavy doom 'tis thine to meet, << That doom shall half absolve thy sin, «Hath ceased her shaded orb to veil, Thy heart within thee is not changed, « Then God and man are both avenged; « Dark will thy doom be, darker still « Thine immortality of ill. »> Alp looked to heaven, and saw on high But his heart was swollen, and turned aside, This first false passion of his breast He, wronged by Venice, vow to save No-though that cloud were thunder's worst, Without an accent of reply; He watched it passing; it is flown: But thou art safe: oh! fly with me! » He turned, but she is gone! Nothing is there but the column stone. Hath she sunk in the earth, or melted in air? XXII. The night is past, and shines the sun And the mournful sound of the barbarous horn, And the flap of the banners, that flit as they're borne, ** And the neigh of the steed, and the multitude's hum, And the clash, and the shout, they come, they come!' The horsetails are plucked from the ground, and the sword From its sheath; and they form, and but wait for the word. Tartar, and Spahi, and Turcoman, Strike your tents, and throng to the van; Mount ye, spur ye, skirr the plain, That the fugitive may flee in vain, When he breaks from the town; and none escape, Alp at their head; his right arm is bare, The khan and the pachas are all at their post; A priest at her altars, a chief in her halls, Up to the skies with that wild halloo! « There the breach lies for passage, the ladder to scale; «And your hands on your sabres, and how should ye fail? « He who first downs with the red cross may crave His heart's dearest wish; let him ask it, and have! » |