"And now"-without the portal's porch she rush'd,
And then at length her tears in freedom gush'd;
Big-bright-and fast, unknown to her they fell;
But still her lips refused to send-" Farewell!"
For in that word-that fatal word-howe'er
We promise-hope-believe-there breathes despair.
O'er every feature of that still, pale face,

Had sorrow fix'd what time can ne'er erase :

The tender blue of that large loving eye

Grew frozen with its gaze on vacancy,

490

Till-Oh, how far!-it caught a glimpse of him,
And then it flow'd-and phrensied seem'd to swim
Through those long, dark, and glistening lashes dew'd
With drops of sadness oft to be renew'd.

"He's gone!"—against her heart that hand is driven,
Convulsed and quick-then gently raised to heaven;
She look'd and saw the heaving of the main;
The white sail set-she dared not look again;

495

500

But turn'd with sickening soul within the gate

505

"It is no dream-and I am desolate !"

XVI.

From crag to crag descending-swiftly sped

Stern Conrad down, nor once he turn'd his head;

D

But shrunk whene'er the windings of his way
Forced on his eye what he would not survey,

His lone, but lovely dwelling on the steep,

That hail'd him first when homeward from the deep:

And she-the dim and melancholy star,

Whose ray of beauty reach'd him from afar,

510

On her he must not gaze, he must not think,

515

There he might rest-but on Destruction's brink :

Yet once almost he stopp'd-and nearly gave

His fate to chance, his projects to the wave;

But no-it must not be a worthy chief
May melt, but not betray to woman's grief.

He sees his bark, he notes how fair the wind,

And sternly gathers all his might of mind:

Again he hurries on-and as he hears
The clang of tumult vibrate on his ears,
The busy sounds, the bustle of the shore,
The shout, the signal, and the dashing oar;
As marks his eye the seaboy on the mast,
The anchors rise, the sails unfurling fast,
The waving kerchiefs of the crowd that urge
That mute adieu to those who stem the

surge; And more than all, his blood-red flag aloft,

He marvell'd how his heart could seem so soft.

520

525

530

Fire in his glance, and wildness in his breast,
He feels of all his former self possest;

He bounds-he flies-until his footsteps reach
The

verge where ends the cliff, begins the beach,
There checks his speed; but pauses less to breathe
The breezy freshness of the deep beneath,
Than there his wonted statelier step renew;
Nor rush, disturb'd by haste, to vulgar view:

535

540

For well had Conrad learn'd to curb the crowd,
By arts that veil, and oft preserve the proud;
His was the lofty port, the distant mien,
That seems to shun the sight-and awes if seen:
The solemn aspect, and the high-born eye,
That checks low mirth, but lacks not courtesy ;
All these he wielded to command assent:
But where he wish'd to win, so well unbent,
That kindness cancell'd fear in those who heard,
And other's gifts shew'd mean beside his word,
When echo'd to the heart as from his own
His deep yet tender melody of tone:

545

550

But such was foreign to his wonted mood,

He cared not what he soften'd, but subdued;

The evil passions of his youth had made
Him value less who loved-than what obey'd.

555

XVII.

Around him mustering ranged his ready guard.
Before him Juan stands-" Are all prepared?"

They are-nay more-embark'd: the latest boat "Waits but my chief"

560

"My sword, and my capote."

Soon firmly girded on, and lightly slung,

His belt and cloak were o'er his shoulders flung;

"Call Pedro here!" He comes-and Conrad bends,

With all the courtesy he deign'd his friends;

"Receive these tablets, and peruse

with care,

"Words of high trust and truth are graven there;
"Double the guard, and when Anselmo's bark
"Arrives, let him alike these orders mark:

"In three days (serve the breeze) the sun shall shine

565

"On our return-till then all peace be thine !"

This said, his brother Pirate's hand he wrung,

Then to his boat with haughty gesture sprung.

570

Flash'd the dipt oars, and sparkling with the stroke,
Around the waves' phosphoric (2) brightness broke; 575
They gain the vessel-on the deck he stands,
Shrieks the shrill whistle-ply the busy hands-
He marks how well the ship her helm obeys,
How gallant all her crew-and deigns to praise.