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be a very repulsive personage; and as to his iden-|
II. tity, those who like it must give him whatever Such were the notes that from the pirate's isle "alias" they please.
Around the kindling watch-fire rang the while; If, however, it were worth while to remove the Such were the sounds that thrill'd the rocks along, impression, it might be of some service to me, that|And unto ears as rugged seem'd a song! the man who is alike the delight of his readers and In scatter'd groups upon the golden sand, his friends, the poet of all circles, and the idol of They game-carouse-converse-or whet the brand : his own, permits me here and elsewhere to subscribe Select the arms-to each his blade assign, myself,
And careless eye the blood that dims its shine;
Repair the boat, replace the helm or oar,
While others straggling muse along the shore :
BYRON. Or spread beneath the sun the dripping net;
Gaze where some distant sail a speck supplies,
No matter where-their chief's allotment this;
Theirs, to believe no prey nor plan amiss.
Is famed and fear'd-they ask and know no more. - nessun maggior dolore,
With these he mingles not but to command;
Few are his words, but keen his eye and hand.
Ne'er seasons he with mirth their jovial mess,
Ne'er for his lip the purpling cup they fill,
That goblet passes him untasted still
Earth's coarsest bread, the garden's homeliest roots Survey our empire, and behold our home!
And scarce the summer luxury of fruits,
With all a hermit's board would scarce deny.
But while he shuns the grosser joys of sense, From toil to rest, and joy in every change.
His mind seems nourish'd by that abstinence. Oh, who can tell ! not thou, luxurious slave!
“Steer to that shore !”--they sail. “Do this!"Whose soul would sicken o’er the heaving wave:
And all obey and few inquire his will;
“ A sail !-a sail !”-a promised prize to hope ; And turn what some deem danger to delight; That seeks what cravens shun with more than zeal,
b. Her nation-flag-how speaks the telescope ? And where the feebler faint-can only feel
No prize, alas !--but yet a welcome sail : Feel-to the rising bosom's inmost core,
The blood-red signal glitters in the gale. Its hope awaken and its spirits soar ?
Yes—she is ours--a home-returning barkNo dread of death-if with us die our foes
Blow fair, thou breeze !—she anchors ere the dark. Save that it seems even duller than repose:
Already doubled is the cape-our bay Come when it will-we snatch the life of life
Receives that prow which proudly spurns the spray When lost-what rocks it-by disease or strife ?
How gloriously her gallant course she goes ! Let him who crawls enamor'd of decay
Her white wings flying-never from her foesCling to his couch, and sicken years away;
She walks the waters like a thing of life, Heave his thick breath, and shake his palsied head;
And seems to dare the elements to strife. Ours——the fresh turf, and not the feverish bed.
Who would not brave the battle-fire-the wreck While gasp by gasp he falters forth his soul,
To move the monarch of her peopled deck ? Onrs with one pang--one bound-escapes control.
IV. His corse may boast its urn and narrow cave, Hoarse o'er her side the rustling cable rings; And they who loathed his life may gild his grave: The sails are furl'd; and anchoring round she swings, Ours are the tears, though few, sincerely shed, And gathering loiterers on the land discern When ocean shrouds and sepulchres our dead. Her boat descending from the latticed stern. For us, even banquets fond regret supply
'Tis mann'd-the oars keep concert to the strand, In the red cup that crowns our memory;
Till grates her keel upon the shallow sand. And the brief epitaph in danger's day,
Hail to the welcome shout!-the friendly speech! When those who win at length divide the prey, When hand grasps hand uniting on the beach; And cry, remembrance saddening o’er each brow, The smile, the question, and the quick reply, How had the brave who fell exulted now!”
And the heart's promise of festivity!
This let the Armı rer with speed dispose;
To tell us when the hour of stay's expired.”
VIII. word : “Oh! are they safe ? we ask not of success
They make obeisance, and retire in haste, But shall we see them? will their accents bless ?
Too soon to seek again the watery waste : From where the battle roars—the bilows chafe
Yet they repine not--so that Conrad guides,
And who dare question aught that he decides ? They doubtless boldly did—but who are safe?
That man of loneliness and mystery,
Scarce seen to smile, and seldom heard to sigh;
Whose name appals the fiercest of his crew,
And tints each swarthy check with sallower hue; " Where is our chief? for him we bear report
Still sways their souls with that commanding art And doubt that joy--which hails our coining-short;
That dazzles, leads, yet chills the vulgar heart. Yet thus sincere'tis cheering, though so brief;
What is that spell, that thus his lawless train But, Juan ! instant guide us to our chief:
Confess and envy, yet oppose in vain ? Our greeting paid, we'll feast on our return,
What should it be, that thus their fate can bind? And all shall hear what each may wish to learn."
The power of Thought--the magic of the Mind ! Ascending slowly by the rock-hewn way,
Link'd with success, assumed and kept with skill. To where his watch-tower beetles o'er the bay,
That moulds another's weakness to its will ; By bushy brake, and wild flowers blossoming,
Wields with their hands, but, still to these unknown, And freshness breathing from each silver spring,
Makes even their mightiest deeds appear his own. Whose scatter'd streams from granite basins burst,
st. Such hath it been-shall be-beneath the sun, Leap into life, and sparkling woo your thirst;
| The many still must labor for the one! From crag to cliff iney mount--Near yonder cave,
'Tis Nature's doom-but let the wretch who toils, What lonely straggler looks along the wave?
Accuse not, hate not him who wears the spoils. In pensive posture leaning on the brand,
Oh! if he knew the weight of splendid chains, Not oft a resting-staff to that red hand ?
How light the balance of his humbler pains ! 66'Tis hem'tis Conrad-here-as wont alone;
IX. On-Juan !-on--and make our purpose known. Unlike the heroes of each ancient race, The bark he views--and tell him we would greet Demons in act, but Gods at least in face, His ear with tidings he must quickly meet: In Conrad's form seems little to admire, We dare not yet approach--thou know'st his mood, Though his dark eyebrow shades a glance of fire : When strange or uninvited steps intrude.”
Robust but not Herculean---to the sight . VII.
No giant frame sets forth his common height;
Yet, in the whole, who paused to look again, Him Juan sought, and told of their intent
Saw more than marks the crowd of vulgar men; He spake not-but a sign express'd assent.
They gaze and marvel how-and still confess These Juan calls--they come to their salute
That thus it is, but why they cannot guess. He bends him slightly, but his lips are mute.
Sunburnt his cheek, his forehead high and pale “ These letters, Chief, are from the Greek—the spy The sable curls in wild profusion veil : Who still proclaims our spoil or peril nigh:
And oft perforce his rising lip reveals Whate'er his tidings we can well report,
The haughtier thought it curbs, but scarce conceals. Much that "-" Peace, peace!”-he cuts their Th
Though smooth his voice, and calm his general mien. prating short.
Still seems there something he would not have seen; Wondering they turn, abashed, while each to each
His features' deepening lines and varying hue Conjecture whispers in his muttering speech: 'They watch his glance with many a stealing look,
At times attracted, yet perplex'd the view,
As if within that murkiness of mind To gather how that eye the tidings took ;
Work'd feelings fearful, and yet undefined ; But, this as if he guess'd, with head aside,
Such might it be-that none could truly tell-. Perchance from some emotion, doubt, or pride,
Too close inquiry his stern glance would quell. He read the scroll—“My tablets, Juan, hark
There breathe but few whose aspect might defy Where is Gonsalvo ?”
The full encounter of his searching eye: “In the anchor'd bark.” He had the skill when Cunning's cave would see
To probe his heart and watch his changing cheek, “ There let him stay--to him this order bearBack to your duty-for my course prepare :
At once the observer's purpose to espy,
And on himself roll back his scrutiny, Myself this enterprise to-night will share."
Lest he to Conrad rather should betray
Some secret thought, than drag that chief's to day - To night, Lord Conrad ?”.
There was a laughing Devil in his sneer, - Ay! at set of sun:
| That raised emotions both of rage and fear; The breeze will freshen when the day is done.
And where his frown of hatred darkly fell, My corslet-cloak-one hour--and we are gone.
Hope withering fled—and Mercy sigh'd farewell! Sling on thy bugle-see that free from rust My carbine-lock springs worthy of my trust;
X. Be the edge sharpen’d of my boarding brand, Slight are the outward signs of evil thought, And give its guard more room to fit my hand. Within--within-'twas there the spirit wrought!
Love shows all changes-Hate, Ambition, Guile, Though many a beauty droop'd in prison'd bower, Betray no further than the bitter smile;
None ever soothed his most unguarded hour. The lip's least curl, the lightest paleness thrown Yes-it was Love-if thoughts of tenderness, Along the govern'd aspect, speak alone
Tried in temptation, strengthened by distress, Of deeper passions; and to judge their mien, Unmoved by absence, firm in every clime, He, who would see, must be himself unseen. Then with the hurried tread, the upward eye, Which nor defeated hope, nor baffled wile, The clenched hand, the pause of agony,
Could render sullen were she near to smile, That listens, starting, lest the step too near Nor rage could fire, nor sickness fret to vent Approach intrusive on that mood of fear :
On her one murmur of his discontent; Then—with each feature working from the heart, Which still would meet with joy, with calmness part With feelings loosed to strengthen-not depart: Lest that his look of grief should reach her heart; That rise-convulse-contend that freeze, or glow, Which nought removed, nor menaced to remove Flush in the cheek, or damp upon the brow; If there be love in mortals--this was love! Then-Stranger! if thou canst, and tremblest not, He was a villain--ay-reproaches shower Behold his soul-the rest that soothes his lot! On him-but not the passion, nor its power, Mark-how that lone and blighted bosom sears Which only proved, all other virtues gone, The scathing thought of execrated years!
Not guilt itself could quench this loveliest one! Behold—but who hath seen, or e'er shall see, Man as himself-the secret spirit free?
He paused a moment-till his hastening men
Pass'd the first winding downward to the glen.
“Strange tidings !-many a peril have I past, To lead the guilty--guilt's worst instrument
Nor know I why this next appears the last! His soul was changed, before his deeds had driven
Yet so my heart forebodes, but must not fear, Him forth to war with man and forfeit heaven.
Nor shall my followers find me falter here, Warp'd by the world in Disappointment's school,
'Tis rash to meet, but surer death to wait In words too wise, in conduct there a fool;
Till here they hunt us to undoubted fate; Too firm to yield, and far too proud to stoop,
And, if my plan but hold, and Fortune smile, Doom'd by his very virtues for a dupe,
We'll furnish mourners for our funeral-pile. He cursed those virtues as the cause of ill,
Ay--let them slumber-peaceful be their dreams ! And not the traitors who betray'd him still ;
Morn ne'er awoke them with such brilliant beams Nor deem'd that gifts bestow'd on better men Had left him joy, and means to live again.
To warm these slow avengers of the seas. Fear'd-shunn'd-belied-ere youth had lost her Now to Medora-Oh! my sinking heart. force,
Long may her own be lighter than thou art ! He hated man too much to feel remorse,
Yet was I brave-mean boast where all are brave ! And thought the voice of wrath a sacred call, To pay the injuries of some on all.
Ev'n insects sting for aught they seek to save.
This common courage which with brutes we sharc He knew himself a villain-but he deem'd
That owes its deadliest efforts to despair, The rest no better than the thing he seem'd;
Small merit claims--but 'twas my nobler hope And scorn'd the best as hypocrites who hid
To teach my few with numbers still to cope; Those deeds the bolder spirit plainly did.
Long have I led them--ot to vainly bleed: He knew himself detested, but he knew
No medium now—we perish or succeed ! The hearts that loathed him, crouch'd and dreaded's
So let it be-it irks not me to die; : too.
But thus to urge them whence they cannot fly. Lone, wild, and strange, he stood alike exempt
My lot hath long had little of my care, From all affection and from all contempt:
But chafes my pride thus baffled in the snare: His name could sadden, and his acts surprise ;
Is this my skill? my craft? to set at last But they that feard him dared not to despise :
Hope, power, and life upon a single cast ? Man spurns the worm, but pauses ere he wake
Oh, Fate !-accuse thy folly, not thy fateThe slumbering venom of the folded snake:
She may redeem thee still-nor yet too late.” The first may turn-but not avenge the blow; The last expires--but leaves no living foe; Fast to the doom'd offender's form it clings,
XIV. And he may crush-not conquer-still it stings !
Thus with himself communion held he, till
He reach'd the summit of his tower-crown'd hill: XII.
There at the portal paused—for wild and soft None are all evil-quickening round his heart, He heard those accents never heard too oft ; One softer feeling would not yet depart;
Through the high lattice far yet sweet they rung, Oft could he sneer at others as beguiled
And these the notes his bird of beauty sung: By passions worthy of a fool or child; Yet 'gainst that passion vainly still he strove, And even in him it asks the name of Love! Yes, it was love-unchangeable--unchanged, « Deep in my soul that tender secret dwells, Felt but for one from whom he never ranged; Lonely and lost to light for evermore, Though fairest captives daily met his eye,
Save when to thine my heart responsive swells, He shunn'd nor sought, but coldly pass'd them by;! Then trembles into silence as before.