"And now"-without the portal's porch she rush'd, 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, "He's gone!"—against her heart that hand is driven, 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 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 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 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 bounds-he flies-until his footsteps reach verge where ends the cliff, begins the beach, 535 540 For well had Conrad learn'd to curb the crowd, 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 555 XVII. Around him mustering ranged his ready guard. 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; "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, |