His memory read in such a meaning more
Than Lara's aspect unto others wore,

Forward he sprung-a moment, both were gone,
And all within that hall seemed left alone;
Each had so fix'd his eye on Lara's mien,

All had so mix'd their feelings with that scene,
That when his long dark shadow through the porch
No more relieves the glare of yon high torch,
Each pulse beats quicker, and all bosoms seem 620
To bound as doubting from too black a dream,
Such as we know is false, yet dread in sooth,
Because the worst is ever nearest truth.
And they are gone-but Ezzelin is there,
With thoughtful visage and imperious air;
But long remain'd not; ere an hour expired
He waved his hand to Otho, and retired.

XXIX.

The crowd are gone, the revellers at rest;
The courteous host, and all-approving guest,
Again to that accustomed couch must creep 630
Where joy subsides, and sorrow sighs to sleep,
And man o'er-laboured with his being's strife
Shrinks to that sweet forgetfulness of life:

There lie love's feverish hope, and cunning's guile,
Hate's working brain, and lull'd ambition's wile,

O'er each vain eye oblivion's pinions wave,
And quench'd existence crouches in a grave.
What better name may slumber's bed become?
Night's sepulchre, the universal home.

Where weakness, strength, vice, virtue, sunk supine,
Alike in naked helplessness recline;

641

Glad for awhile to heave unconscious breath,
Yet wake to wrestle with the dread of death,
And shun, though day but dawn on ills increased,
That sleep, the loveliest, since it dreams the least.

CANTO II.

LARA.

CANTO SECOND.

I.

NIGHT Wanes-the vapours round the mountains curl'd

Melt into morn, and Light awakes the world.

Man has another day to swell the past,

And lead him near to little, but his last;

But mighty Nature bounds us from her birth, 650 The sun is in the heavens, and life on earth; Flowers in the valley, splendour in the beam, Health on the gale, and freshness in the stream, Immortal man! behold her glories shine,