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While thronged the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips“ The foe! They
come! they come !" And wild and high the “ Cameron's gathering”
The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes :How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills Their mountain-pipe, so fill the mountaineers With the fierce native daring which instils
The stirring memory of a thousand years, And Evan's, Donald's fame rings in each clansman's
ears! And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves Dewy with nature's tear-drops, as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, –alas ! Ere evening, to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass
Of living valour, rolling on the foe And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and
Last noon beheld them full of lusty life,
Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay,
The midnight brought the signal sound of strife,
The morn the marshalling in arms,--the day
Battle's magnificently-stern array !
The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which, when rent,
The earth is cover'd thick with other clay,
Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent, Rider and horse,-friend, foe,-in one red burial
The very first Of human life must spring from woman's breast, Your first small words are taught you from her lips, Your first tears quench'd by her; and your last sighs Too often breathed out in a woman's hearing, When men have shrunk from the ignoble care Of watching the last hour of him who led them.
Oh! too convincing-dangerously dear-
In woman's eye the unanswerable tear!
That weapon of her weakness she can wield,
To save, subdue at once her spear and shield :
Avoid it-Virtue ebbs and Wisdom errs
Too fondly gazing on that grief of hers !
What lost a World, and bade a hero fly ?
The timid tear in Cleopatra's eye.
Yet be the soft triumvir's fault forgiven,
By this how many lose not earth—but heaven!
Consign their souls to man's eternal foe,
And seal their own to spare some wanton's woe.
Fair as the first that fell of womankind,
When on that dread yet lovely serpent smiling, Whose image then was stamped upon her mind
But once beguiled—and ever more beguiling ; Dazzling, as that, oh! too transcendent vision
To Sorrow's phantom-peopled slumber given,
When heart meets heart again in dreams Elysian,
And paints the lost on Earth revived in Heaven ; Soft, as the memory of buried love, Pure, as the prayer which Childhood wafts above, Was she - the daughter of that rude old Chief Who met the maid with tears—but not of grief.
Who hath not proved how feebly words essay
To fix one spark of Beauty's heavenly ray ?
Who doth feel, until his failing sight
Faints into dimness with its own delight,
His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess
The might the majesty of Loveliness ?
Such was Zuleika_such around her shone
The nameless charms, unmarked by her alone ;
The light of love, the purity of grace,
The mind, the music breathing from her face,
The heart whose softness harmonized the whole
And, oh! that eye was in itself a Soul !
Her graceful arms in meekness bending
Across her gently budding breast,
At one kind word those arms extending
To clasp the neck of him who blest
His child caressing and carest,
Zuleika came and Giaffir felt
His purpose half within him melt:
Not that against her fancied weal
His heart though stern could ever feel ;
Affection chained her to that heart;
Ambition tore the links apart.
SELIM TO ZULEIKA.
Ay! let me like the ocean-Patriarch roam,
Or only know on land the Tartar's home!
My tent on shore, my galley on the sea,
Are more than cities and Serais to me:
Borne by my steed, or wafted by my sail,
Across the desert, or before the gale,
Bound where thou wilt, my barb! or glide, my prow!
But be the star that guides the wanderer, Thou !
Thou, my Zuleika, share and bless my bark;
The dove of peace and promise to mine ark!
Or, since that hope denied in worlds of strife,
Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life!
The evening beam that smiles the clouds away,
And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray!
Blest as the Muezzin's strain from Mecca's wall
To pilgrims pure and prostrate at his call;
Soft- as the melody of youthful days,
That steals the trembling tear of speechless praise;
Dear-as his native song to Exile's ears,
Shall sound each tone thy long-loved voice endears.
For thee in those bright isles is built a bower
Blooming as Aden in its earliest hour.
A thousand swords, with Selim's heart and hand,
Wait-wave_defend—destroy—at thy command !
Girt by my band, Zuleika at my side,
The spoil of nations shall bedeck my bride.
The Haram's languid years of listless ease
Are well resigned for cares—for joys like these :
Not blind to fate, I see, where'er I rove,
Unnumber'd perils but one only love !
Yet well my toils shall that one breast repay,
Though fortune frown, or falser friends betray.
How dear the dream in darkest hours of ill,
Should all be changed, to find thee faithful still !
Be but thy soul, like Selim's, firmly shown ;
To thee be Selim's tender as thine own;
To soothe each sorrow, share in each delight,
Blend every thought, do all—but disunite !
Once free, 'tis mine our horde again to guide ;
Friends to each other, foes to aught beside:
Yet there we follow but the bent assigned
By fatal Nature to man's warring kind :
Mark where his carnage and his conquests cease !
He makes a solitude, and calls it-peace !
I, like the rest, must use my skill or strength,
But ask no land beyond my sabre's length:
Power sways but by division-her resource
The blest alternative of fraud or force !
Ours be the last; in time deceit may come
When cities cage us in a social home:
There even thy soul might err_how oft the heart
Corruption shakes which peril could not part !
And woman, more than man, when death or woe
Or even Disgrace would lay her lover low,
Sunk in the lap of Luxury will shame
Away suspicion !_not Zuleika's name!
But life is hazard at the best; and here
No more remains to win, and much to fear;
Yes, fear !--the doubt, the dread of losing thee,
By Osman's power, and Giaffir's stern decree.
That dread shall vanish with the favouring gale,
Which Love to-night hath promised to my sail :
No danger daunts the pair his smile hath blest,
Their steps still roving, but their hearts at rest.
With thee all toils are sweet, each clime hath charms ;
Earthsea alike our world within our arms !
Ay~let the loud winds whistle o'er the deck,
So that those arms cling closer round my neck :
The deepest murmur of this lip shall be
No sigh for safety, but a prayer for thee !
The war of elements no fears impart