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“ I come through darkness---and I scarce know why--“ Yet not to hurt--- I would not see thee die.” 1050

“ If so, kind lady! thine the only eye “ That would not here in that gay hope delight: 6. Theirs is the chance---and let them use their right. “ But still I thank their courtesy or thine, “ That would confess me at so fair a shrine !" 1055

Strange though it seem---yet with extremest grief
Is link'd a mirth---it doth not bring relief---
That playfulness of Sorrow ne'er beguiles,
And smiles in bitterness---but still it smiles;
And sometimes with the wisest and the best, 1060
Till even the scaffold (10) echoes with their jest!
Yet not the joy to which it seems akin---
It may deceive all hearts, save that within.
Whate'er it was that flash'd on Conrad, now
A laughing wildness half unbent his brow: 1065
And these his accents had a sound of mirth,
As if the last he could enjoy on earth;
Yet 'gainst his nature---for through that short life,
Few thoughts had he to spare from gloom and strife.

XIV.

“ Corsair! thy doom is named-but I have power " To sooth the Pacha in his weaker hour. 1071 “ Thee would I spare-nay more-would save thee

now, " But this time-hope--nor even thy strength allow; . “ But all I can, I will : at least, delay “ The sentence that remits thee scarce a day. 1075 “ More now were ruin-even thyself were loth “ The vain attempt should bring but doom to both.”

“ Yes !- loth indeed:-my soul is nerved to all, " Or fall'n too low to fear a further fall : “ Tempt not thyself with peril; me with hope, 1080 “ Of flight from foes with whom I could not cope: 6 Unfit to vanquish-shall I meanly fly, “ The one of all my band that would not die? “ Yet there is one-to whom my memory clings, “ Till to these eyes her own wild softness springs. 1085 “ My sole resources in the path I trod “ Were these---my bark---my sword---my love---my

God! “ The last I left in youth---he leaves me now--“ And Man but works his will to lay me low. 1089 " I have no thought to mock his throne with prayer “ Wrung from the coward crouching of despair; “ It is enough---I breathe---and I can bear, “My sword is shaken from the worthless hand “ That might have better kept so true a brand ; “My bark is sunk or captive---but my love--- 1095

For her in sooth my voice would mount above: “Oh! she is all that still to earth can bind--“ And this will break a heart so more than kind, “And blight a form---till thine appeard, Gulnare! “Mine eye ne'er ask'd if others were as fair ?" 1100

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“ Lady---methought thy love was his, for whom ." This arm redeem'd thee from a fiery tomba"

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" Yet much this heart, that strives no more, once strove “ To meet his passion---but it would not be. 1111 6 1 felt---I feel---love dwells with---with the free. “I am a slave, a favour'd slave at best, “ To share his splendour, and seem very blest! « Oft must my soul the question undergo, 1115 “Of---Dost thou love?' and burn to answer “No! « Oh! hard it is that fondness to sustain, “ And struggle not to feel averse in vain; “ But harder still the heart's recoil to bear, “ And hide from one---perhaps another there. 1120 “ He takes the hand I give not---oor withhold--“ Its pulse nor check'd---nor quicken'd---calmly cold: " And when resign’d, it drops a lifeless weight " From one I never loved enough to hate. « No warmth these lips return by his imprest, 1125

And chill'd remembrance shudders o'er the rest.

“ Yes---had I ever proved that passion's zeal, “ The change to hatred were at least to feel : “ But still---he goes unmourn'd---returns unsought--" And oft when present---absent from my thought. " Or when reflection comes, and come it must--- 1131 “ I fear that henceforth 'twill but bring disgust; “ I am his slave---but, in despite of pride, “ 'Twere worse than bondage to become his bride. “ Oh! that this dotage of his breast would cease! 1135 “ Or seek another and give mine release, “ But yesterday--- I could have said, to peace ! “ Yes---if unwonted fondness now I feign, “ Remember---captive! 'tis to break thy chain; “ 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!"

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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 wo!

XVI. 'Tis morn---and o'er his alter'd features play 1165 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, 1170 Chill---wet---and misty round each stiffen'd limb, Refreshing earth---reviving all but him!

END OF CANTO II.

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