Arriving at the summit of a hill Which overlook'd the white walls of his home, The approach of home to husbands and to sires, You're wrong;-He was the mildest manne 1 man Not that he was not sometimes rash or so, That ever scuttled ship or cut a throat; With such true breeding of a gentleman, You never could divine his real thought; No courtier could, and scarcely woman can Gird more deceit within a petticoat; Pity he loved adventurous life's variety He was so great a loss to good society But never in his real and serious mood; Then calm, concentrated, and still, and slow He lay coil'd like the boa in the wood; With him it never was a word and blow. His angry word once o'er, he shed no blood, But in his silence there was much to rue, And his one blow left little work for two. ALIX. He ask'd no further questions, and proceeded For Haidee's sake, is more than I can say, If all the dead could now return to life, (Which God forbid !) or some, or a great many; For instance, if a husband or his wife, (Nuptial examples are as good as any,) No doubt whate'er might be their former strife, The present weather would be much more rainyTears shed into the grave of the connexion Would share most probably its resurrection. LI. He enter'd in the house, no more his home, And round its once warm precincts palely lying LII. He enter'd in the house-his home no more, For without hearts there is no home-and felt The solitude of passing his own door Without a welcome; there he long had dwelt, There his few peaceful days Time had swept o'er, There his worn bosom and keen eye would melt Over the innocence of that sweet child, His only shrine of feelings undefiled. LIII. He was a man of a strange temperament, With temperance in pleasure, as in food, LIV. The love of power, and rapid gain of gold, The wild seas and wild men with whom he cruised, LV. But something of the spirit of old Greece Flash'd o'er his soul a few heroic rays, such as lit onward to the golden fleece His predecessors in the Colchian days: Tis true he had no ardent love for peace; Alas! his country show'd no path to praise: Hate to the world and war with every nation He waged, in vengeance of her degredation. LXIII. These were ranged round, each in its crystal ewer, And fruits and date-bread loaves closed the repast, And Mocha's berry, from Arabia pure, In small fine China cups, came in at lastGold cups of filigree, made to secure The hand from burning, underneath them placed; Cloves, cinnamon, and saffron too were boil'd Up with the coffee, which (I think) they spoil'd. LXIV. The hangings of the room were tapestry, made LXV. These oriental writings on the wall, Quite common in those countries, are a kind Of monitors, adapted to recall, Like skulls at Memphian banquets, to the mind The words which shook Belshazzar in his hall, And took his kingdom from him.-You will find, Though sages may pour out their wisdom's treasure, There is no sterner moralist than pleasure. LXVI. A beauty at the season's close grown hectic, (For that's the name they like to pray beneath)-| But most, an alderman struck apoplectic, Are things that really take away the breath, And show that late hours, wine and love, are able To do not much less damage than the table. LXVII. laidee and Juan carpeted their feet On crimson satin, border'd with pale blue; Their sofa occupied three parts complete Of the apartment-and appear'd quite new; The velvet cushions-(for a throne more meet) Were scarlet, from whose glowing centre grew A sun emboss'd in gold, whose rays of tissue, Meridian-like, were seen all light to issue. LXVIII. Crystal and marble, plate and porcelain, Had done their work of splendor, Indian mats And Persian carpets, the heart bled to stain, Over the floors were spread; gazelles and cats, And dwarfs and blacks, and such like, things that gain Their bread as ministers and favorites-(that's To say, by degradation)-mingled there As plentiful as in a court or fair. LXIX. There was no want of lofty mirrors, and The greater part of these were ready spread With viands, and sherbets in ice, and wineKent fo: all comers, at all hours to dine. LXX. Of all the dresses I select Haidee's: She wore two jelicks-one was of pale yellow; Of azure, pink, and white, was her chemise'Neath which her breast heaved like a little billow With buttons form'd of pearls as large as peas, All gold and crimson shone her jelick's fellow, And the striped white gauze baracan hat bound her, Like fleecy clouds about the moon, flow'd round her LXXI. One large gold bracelet clasp'd each lovely arm, LXXII. Around, as princess of her father's land, Of lavish pearls, whose worth could scarce be told; LXXIII. Her hair's long auburn waves down to her heel The silken fillet's curb, and sought to shun Their bonds whene'er some zephyr caught began To offer his young pinion as her fan LXXIV. Round her she made an atmosphere of life, The very air seem'd lighter from her eyes, They were so soft and beautiful, and rife With all we can imagine of the skies, And pure as Psyche ere she grew a wife Too pure even for the purest human ties; Her overpowering presence made you feel It would not be idolatry to kneel. LXXV. Her eyelashes, though dark as night, were tinged, Her nails were touch'd with henna; but again The power of art was turn'd to nothing, for They could not look more rosy than before. LXXVI. The henna should be deeply dyed to make She was so like a vision; I might err, |