"I come through darkness---and I scarce know why--"Yet not to hurt---I would not see thee die." "If so, kind lady! thine the only eye 1050 "That would not here in that gay hope delight: "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 1060 Strange though it seem---yet with extremest grief 1065 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, -time-hope-nor even thy strength allow ; "But all I can, I will: at least, delay 1075 "The sentence that remits thee scarce a day. "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: 66 Tempt not thyself with peril; me with hope, 1080 "Of flight from foes with whom I could not cope: "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 66 My sole resources in the path I trod "Were these---my bark---my sword---my love---my God! 1089 "The last I left in youth---he leaves me now--"And Man but works his will to lay me low. "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--"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 appear'd, Gulnare! "Mine eye ne'er ask'd if others were as fair?" 1100 1095 "Thou lov'st another then ?---but what to me "Is this---'tis nothing---nothing e'er can be: "But yet---thou lov'st---and---Oh! I envy those "Whose hearts on hearts as faithful can repose, 1104 "Who never feel the void---the wandering thought "That sighs o'er visions---such as mine hath wrought.” “Lady---methought thy love was his, for whom "This arm redeem'd thee from a fiery tomb." My love stern Seyd's! Oh---No---No---not my love-- "Yet much this heart, that strives no more, once strove "To meet his passion---but it would not be. "I 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, 1111 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---nor 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--- 1151 "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; "To give thee back to all endear'd below, "Who share such love as I can never know. 1140 "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, 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? 1145 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--- Yet be the soft triumvir's fault forgiven, By this---how many lose not earth---but heaven! And seal their own to spare some wanton's wo! XVI. 'Tis morn---and o'er his alter'd features play 1155 1160 1165 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. |