Son of a slave! - and who my sire?' Thus held his thoughts their dark

career;

And glances ev'n of more than ire Flash forth, then faintly disappear. Old Giaffir gazed upon his son

And started; for within his eye

He read how much his wrath had done;

He saw rebellion there begun.

'Come hither, boy-what, no reply? I mark thee - and I know thee too; But there be deeds thou dar'st not do: But if thy beard had manlier length, And if thy hand had skill and strength, I'd joy to see thee break a lance, Albeit against my own perchance.' As sneeringly these accents fell, On Selim's eye he fiercely gazed:

That eye return'd him glance for glance,

And proudly to his sire's was raised, Till Giaffir's quail'd and shrunk

120

130

140

151

VII

'Zuleika! child of gentleness!

How dear this very day must tell,
When I forget my own distress,

In losing what I love so well,
To bid thee with another dwell-
Another! and a braver man
Was never seen in battle's van.

We Moslem reck not much of blood; 200
But yet the line of Carasman
Unchanged, unchangeable hath stood
First of the bold Timariot bands
That won and well can keep their lands.
Enough that he who comes to woo
Is kinsman of the Bey Oglou:

His years need scarce a thought employ;

210

I would not have thee wed a boy.
And thou shalt have a noble dower:
And his and my united power
Will laugh to scorn the death-firman,
Which others tremble but to scan,
And teach the messenger what fate
The bearer of such boon may wait.
And now thou know'st thy father's will;
All that thy sex hath need to know:
"T was mine to teach obedience still-
The way to love, thy lord may show.'

No word from Selim's bosom broke; One sigh Zuleika's thought bespoke: Still gazed he through the lattice grate, Pale, mute, and mournfully sedate. To him Zuleika's eye was turn'd, But little from his aspect learn'd; Equal her grief, yet not the same; Her heart confess'd a gentler flame: 260 But yet that heart, alarm'd or weak, She knew not why, forbade to speak. Yet speak she must-but when essay ? 'How strange he thus should turn away! Not thus we e'er before have met; Not thus shall be our parting yet.' Thrice paced she slowly through the room,

270

And watch'd his eye-it still was fix'd: She snatch'd the urn wherein was mix'd The Persian Atar-gul's perfume, And sprinkled all its odours o'er The pictured roof and marble floor: The drops, that through his glittering

300

Oh, Selim dear! oh, more than dearest !
Say, is it me thou hat'st or fearest ?
Come, lay thy head upon my breast,
And I will kiss thee into rest,
Since words of mine, and songs must fail,
Ev'n from my fabled nightingale.
I knew our sire at times was stern,
But this from thee had yet to learn:
Too well I know he loves thee not;
But is Zuleika's love forgot?
Ah! deem I right? the Pacha's plan
This kinsman Bey of Carasman
Perhaps may prove some foe of thine;
If so, I swear by Mecca's shrine,
If shrines that ne'er approach allow
To woman's step admit her vow,
Without thy free consent, command,
The Sultan should not have my hand!
Think'st thou that I could bear to part
With thee, and learn to halve my heart?
Ah! were I sever'd from thy side,
Where were thy friend - and who my
guide?

310

320

When it rushes reveal'd

In the light of its billows; As the bolt bursts on high

From the black cloud that bound it, Flash'd the soul of that eye

Through the long lashes round it. A war-horse at the trumpet's sound, 340 A lion roused by heedless hound, A tyrant waked to sudden strife By graze of ill-directed knife, Starts not to more convulsive life Than he, who heard that vow, display'd, And all, before repress'd, betray'd: Now thou art mine, for ever mine, With life to keep, and scarce with life resign;

351

Now thou art mine, that sacred oath,
Though sworn by one, hath bound us both.
Yes, fondly, wisely hast thou done;
That vow hath saved more heads than one;
But blench not thou-thy simplest tress
Claims more from me than tenderness;
I would not wrong the slenderest hair,
That clusters round thy forehead fair,
For all the treasures buried far
Within the caves of Istakar.

This morning clouds upon me lower'd,
Reproaches on my head were shower'd,
And Giaffir almost call'd me coward! 361
Now I have motive to be brave;
The son of his neglected slave,-
Nay, start not, 't was the term he gave,-
May show, though little apt to vaunt,
A heart his words nor deeds can daunt.
His son, indeed! - yet, thanks to thee,
Perchance I am, at least shall be;
But let our plighted secret vow
Be only known to us as now.

370

I know the wretch who dares demand
From Giaffir thy reluctant hand;
More ill-got wealth, a meaner soul
Holds not a Musselim's control:
Was he not bred in Egripo?
A viler race let Israel show;
But let that pass-to none be told
Our oath; the rest shall time unfold.
To me and mine leave Osman Bey;
I've partisans for peril's day:
Think not I am what I appear;
I've arms, and friends, and vengeance

near.'

380

XIII

'Think not thou art what thou appearest ! My Selim, thou art sadly changed:

This morn I saw thee gentlest, dearest; But now thou'rt from thyself estranged.

My love thou surely knew'st before,
It ne'er was less, nor can be more.
To see thee, hear thee, near thee stay,
And hate the night I know not why,
Save that we meet not but by day;

391

With thee to live, with thee to die, I dare not to my hope deny: Thy cheek, thine eyes, thy lips to kiss, Like this and this -no more than this: For, Alla! sure thy lips are flame:

What fever in thy veins is flushing? My own have nearly caught the same,

At least I feel my cheek, too, blushing. To soothe thy sickness, watch thy health, Partake, but never waste thy wealth, 401 Or stand with smiles unmurmuring by, And lighten half thy poverty; Do all but close thy dying eye, For that I could not live to try; To these alone my thoughts aspire: More can I do? or thou require? But, Selim, thou must answer why We need so much of mystery: The cause I cannot dream nor tell, But be it, since thou say'st 't is well; Yet what thou mean'st by "arms "friends,"

410

"and

Beyond my weaker sense extends.
I meant that Giaffir should have heard
The very vow I plighted thee;
His wrath would not revoke my word:
But surely he would leave me free.
Can this fond wish seem strange in

me,

420

To be what I have ever been?
What other hath Zuleika seen
From simple childhood's earliest hour?
What other can she seek to see
Than thee, companion of her bower,
The partner of her infancy?
These cherish'd thoughts with life begun,
Say, why must I no more avow?
What change is wrought to make me
shun

The truth; my pride, and thine till
now?

To meet the gaze of stranger's eyes
Our law, our creed, our God denies; 430
Nor shall one wandering thought of mine
At such, our Prophet's will, repine:
No! happier made by that decree!
He left me all in leaving thee.

Our Sultan hath a shorter way Such costly triumph to repay.

460

But, mark me, when the twilight drum Hath warn'd the troops to food and sleep,

Unto thy cell will Selim come:

Then softly from the Haram creep Where we may wander by the deep: Our garden-battlements are steep; Nor these will rash intruder climb To list our words, or stint our time; And if he doth, I want not steel Which some have felt, and more may feel. Then shalt thou learn of Selim more Than thou hast heard or thought before: Trust me, Zuleika - fear not me! Thou know'st I hold a Haram key.'

'Fear thee, my Selim! ne'er till now Did word like this

470

CANTO THE SECOND

I

THE winds are high on Helle's wave,
As on that night of stormy water
When Love, who sent, forgot to save
The young, the beautiful, the brave,

The lonely hope of Sestos' daughter.
Oh! when alone along the sky
Her turret-torch was blazing high,
Though rising gale and breaking foam.
And shrieking sea-birds warn'd him
home;

And clouds aloft and tides below,
With signs and sounds, forbade to go,
He could not see, he would not hear,
Or sound or sign foreboding fear;
His eye but saw that light of love,
The only star it hail'd above;
His ear but rang with Hero's song,
'Ye waves, divide not lovers long!'.
That tale is old, but love anew

10

May nerve young hearts to prove as true.

That moon, which shone on his high theme:

No warrior chides her peaceful beam,

But conscious shepherds bless it still. Their flocks are grazing on the mound

Of him who felt the Dardan's arrow: That mighty heap of gather'd ground Which Ammon's son ran proudly round, By nations raised, by monarchs crown'd, Is now a lone and nameless barrow ! Within thy dwelling-place how nar

row!
Without can only strangers breathe
The name of him that was beneath:
Dust long outlasts the storied stone;
But Thou- thy very dust is gone!

V