Lone, wild, and strange, he stood alike exempt
From all affection and from all contempt :

His name could sadden, and his acts surprise ;
But they that feared him dared not to despise :
Man spurns the worm, but pauses ere he wake
The slumbering venom of the folded snake:
The first may turn—but not avenge the blow;
The last expires-but leaves no living foe;
Fast to the doomed offender's form it clings,
And he may crush-not conquer-still it stings!

XII.

None are all evil-quickening round his heart,
One softer feeling would not yet depart ;
Oft could he sneer at others as beguiled
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,
Felt but for one from whom he never ranged;
Though fairest captives daily met his eye,
He shunned, nor sought, but coldly passed them by ;
Though many a beauty drooped in prisoned bower,
None ever soothed his most unguarded hour.
Yes-it was Love-if thoughts of tenderness,
Tried in temptation, strengthened by distress,
Unmoved by absence, firm in every clime,
And yet-Oh more than all !-untired by time;
Which nor defeated hope, nor baffled wile,
Could render sullen were she near to smile,
Nor rage could fire, nor sickness fret to vent
On her one murmur of his discontent;

Which still would meet with joy, with calmness part,

Lest that his look of grief should reach her heart;

Which nought removed, nor menaced to remove-
If there be love in mortals-this was love!
He was a villain-ay-reproaches shower
On him-but not the passion, nor its power,
Which only proved, all other virtues gone,
Not guilt itself could quench this loveliest one!
XIII.

He paused a moment-till his hastening men
Passed the first winding downward to the glen.

R

Strange tidings !-many a peril have I past,

« Nor know I why this next appears the last!
« Yet so my heart forebodes, but must not fear,
Nor shall my followers find me falter here.

་་

<< 'Tis rash to meet, but surer death to wait

« Till here they hunt us to undoubted fate;

And, if my plan but hold, and Fortune smile,

« We'll furnish mourners for our funeral-pile.

Ay-let them slumber-peaceful be their dreams! «Morn ne'er awoke them with such brilliant beams «As kindle high to-night (but blow, thou breeze!) «To warn these slow avengers of the seas.

« Now to Medora-Oh! my sinking heart,

Long may her own be lighter than thou art!

« Yet was I brave-mean boast where all are brave!

« Ev'n insects sting for aught they seek to save. « This common courage which with brutes we share, << That owes its deadliest efforts to despair,

« Small merit claims-but 'twas my nobler hope

་་

To teach my few with numbers still to cope;

Long have I led them-not to vainly bleed :

« No medium now we perish or succeed! "So let it be-it irks not me to die;

« But thus to urge them whence they cannot fly.

"

My lot hath long had little of my care,

« But chafes my pride thus baffled in the snare :

« Is this my skill? my craft? to set at last

"

Hope, power, and life upon a single cast? «Oh, Fate!-accuse thy folly, not thy fate« She may redeem thee still-nor yet too late. »

XIV.

Thus with himself communion held he, till
He reached the summit of his tower crowned hill.
There at the portal paused-for wild and soft
He heard those accents never heard too oft;
Through the high lattice far yet sweet they rung,
And these the notes his bird of beauty sung :

"

I.

Deep in my soul that tender secret dwells,
Lonely and lost to light for evermore,

Save when to thine my heart responsive swells,
Then trembles into silence as before.

2.

«There, in its centre, a sepulchral lamp
Burns the slow flame, eternal-but unseen;
Which not the darkness of despair can damp,
Though vain its ray as it had never been.

« Remember me—-Oh! pass not thou my grave

Without one thought whose relics there recline:

The only pang my bosom dare not brave,
Must be to find forgetfulness in thine.

4.

My fondest faintest-latest accents hear Grief for the dead not Virtue can reprove ; Then give me all I ever asked-a tear,

The first-last-sole reward of so much love! >>

He passed the portal-crossed the corridor,
And reached the chamber as the strain gave
My own Medora! sure thy song is sad— »

་

o'er :

« In Conrad's absence wouldst thou have it glad? « Without thine ear to listen to my lay,

«Still must my song my thoughts, my soul betray: << Still must each accent to my bosom suit,

་

、

Oh !

My heart unhushed-although my lips were mute! many a night on this lone couch reclined, « My dreaming fear with storms hath winged the wind, « And deemed the breath that faintly fanned thy sail « The murmuring prelude of the ruder gale ;

Though soft, it seemed the low prophetic dirge, << That mourned thee floating on the savage surge: « Still would I rise to rouse the beacon fire, «< Lest spies less true should let the blaze expire; « And many a restless night outwatched each star, « And morning came-and still thou wert afar. «Oh! how the chill blast on my bosom blew, « And day broke dreary on my troubled view, "And still I gazed and gazed-and not a prow « Was granted to my tears-my truth-my vow! « At length-'twas noon-I hailed and blest the mast « That met my sight-it neared-Alas! it past! « Another came-Oh God! 'twas thine at last!

"

Would that those days were over! wilt thou ne'er, My Conrad! learn the joys of peace to share? << Sure thou hast more than wealth; and

<< As bright as this invites us not to roam : << Thou know'st it is not peril that I fear, «I only tremble when thou art not here;

K

many a home

Then not for mine, but that far dearer life,

« Which flies from love and languishes for strife-
« How strange that heart, to me so tender still,
«Should war with nature and its better will! »

Yea, strange indeed-that heart hath long been changed; « Worm-like 'twas trampled-adder-like avenged, « Without one hope on earth beyond thy love, «And scarce a glimpse of mercy from above.

«Yet the same feeling which thou dost condemn, My very love to thee is hate to them,

«So closely mingling here, that disentwined,
« I cease to love thee when I love mankind.
<< Yet dread not this, the proof of all the past
« Assures the future that my love will last;

But-Oh, Medora! nerve thy gentler heart, << This hour again-but not for long-we part. »>

« This hour we part!-my heart foreboded this :
<<< Thus ever fade my fairy dreams of bliss.
<< This hour-it cannot be—this hour away!
«Yon bark hath hardly anchored in the bay:
«< Her consort still is absent, and her crew

<< Have need of rest before they toil anew ;

My love! thou mock'st my weakness; and would'st steel

My breast before the time when it must feel;

« But trifle now no more with my distress,

« Such mirth hath less of play than bitterness.