66

Repay the life that to thy hand I owe;

1140

"To give thee back to all endear'd below,

"Who share such love as I can never know.

"Farewell-morn breaks-and I must now away: ""Twill cost me dear-but dread no death to-day!"

XV.

She press'd his fetter'd fingers to her heart,

1145

And bow'd her head, and turn'd her to depart,

And noiseless as a lovely dream is gone.

And was she here? and is he now alone?

What gem hath dropp'd and sparkles o'er his chain?
The tear most sacred, shed for other's pain,

1150

That starts at once-bright-pure-from Pity's mine, Already polish'd by the hand divine!

Oh! too convincing-dangerously dear—

In woman's eye the unanswerable tear!

That weapon of her weakness she can wield,

1155

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.

1160

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!

XVI.

"Tis morn-and o'er his alter'd features play
The beams without the hope of yesterday.
What shall he be ere night? perchance a thing
O'er which the raven flaps her funeral wing:
By his closed eye unheeded and unfelt,
While sets that sun, and dews of evening melt,
Chill-wet-and misty round each stiffen'd limb,
Refreshing earth-reviving all but him!— ·

END OF CANTO II.

1165

1170

SLOW sinks, more lovely ere his race be run,
Along Morea's hills the setting sun;

Not, as in Northern climes, obscurely bright,
But one unclouded blaze of living light!
O'er the hush'd deep the yellow beam he throws,
Gilds the green wave, that trembles as it glows.
On old Ægina's rock, and Idra's isle,
The god of gladness sheds his parting smile;
O'er his own regions lingering, loves to shine,
Though there his altars are no more divine.
Descending fast the mountain shadows kiss

Thy glorious gulf, unconquer'd Salamis !

1175

1180

F

Their azure arches through the long expanse

More deeply purpled meet his mellowing glance,
And tenderest tints, along their summits driven,
Mark his gay course and own the hues of heaven;
Till, darkly shaded from the land and deep,
Behind his Delphian cliff he sinks to sleep.

On such an eve, his palest beam he cast,
When-Athens! here thy Wisest look'd his last.
How watch'd thy better sons his farewell ray,
That closed their murder'd sage's (11) latest day!

Not yet not yet-Sol pauses on the hill-
The precious hour of parting lingers still;
But sad his light to agonizing eyes,

1185

1190

1195

And dark the mountain's once delightful dyes:
Gloom o'er the lovely land he seem'd to pour,
The land, where Phoebus never frown'd before,
But ere he sunk below Citharon's head,

1200

The
cup of woe was quaff”d—the spirit fled;
The soul of him who scorn'd to fear or fly-
Who lived and died, as none can live or die!

But lo! from high Hymettus to the plain,

1205

The queen of night asserts her silent reign.(12)

No murky vapour, herald of the storm,
Hides her fair face, nor girds her glowing form;
With cornice glimmering as the moon-beams play,
There the white column greets her grateful ray,
And, bright around with quivering beams beset,
Her emblem sparkles o'er the minaret:
The groves of olive scatter'd dark and wide-
Where meek Cephisus pours his scanty tide,
The cypress saddening by the sacred mosque,
The gleaming turret of the gay Kiosk,(13)
And, dun and sombre 'mid the holy calm,
Near Theseus' fane yon solitary palm,

1210

1215

All tinged with varied hues arrest the eye

And dull were his that pass'd them heedless by.

1220

Again the Ægean, heard no more afar,

Lulls his chafed breast from elemental war;

Again his waves in milder tints unfold

Their long array of sapphire and of gold,

Mixt with the shades of many a distant isle,

1225

That frown-where gentler ocean seems to smile. (14)

II.

Not now my theme-why turn my thoughts to thee?

Oh! who can look along thy native sea,