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With many an asking smile, and wondering stare,
They whisper round, and gaze upon Gulnare; 1690
And her, at once above-beneath her sex,
Whom blood appall'd not, their regards perplex.
To Conrad turns her faint imploring eye,
She drops her veil, and stands in silence by;
Her arms are meekly folded on that breast
Which-Conrad safe-to fate resign'd the rest.
Though worse than phrensy could that bosom fill,
Extreme in love or hate, in good or ill,

The worst of crimes had left her woman still!

XVII.

1695

This Conrad mark'd, and felt-ah! could he less 1700
Hate of that deed, but grief for her distress;
What she has done no tears can wash away,

And heaven must punish on its angry day:
But-it was done: he knew, whate'er her guilt,
For him that poniard smote, that blood was spilt; 1705
And he was free!—and she for him had given
Her all on earth, and more than all in heaven!
And now he turn'd him to that dark-eyed slave
Whose brow was bow'd beneath the glance he gave,
Who now seem'd changed and humbled:-faint and
meek,

But varying oft the colour of her cheek

To deeper shades of paleness-all its red

That fearful spot which stain'd it from the dead!

1710

1715

1720

He took that hand-it trembled-now too late-
So soft in love-so wildly nerved in hate;
He clasp'd that hand-it trembled-and his own
Had lost its firmness, and his voice its tone.
"Gulnare!"-but she replied not-" dear Gulnare!"
She raised her eye-her only answer there-
At once she sought and sunk in his embrace:
If he had driven her from that resting place,
His had been more or less than mortal heart,
But-good or ill-it bade her not depart.
Perchance, but for the bodings of his breast,
His latest virtue then had join'd the rest.
Yet even Medora might forgive the kiss
That ask'd from form so fair no more than this,
The first, the last that Frailty stole from Faith—
To lips where Love had lavish'd all his breath,
To lips-whose broken sighs such fragrance fling,
As he had fann'd them freshly with his wing! 1731

XVIII.

They gain by twilight's hour their lonely isle.

To them the very rocks appear to smile;

1725

The haven hums with many a cheering sound,
The beacons blaze their wonted stations round, 1735
The boats are darting o'er the curly bay,

And sportive dolphins bend them through the spray;
Even the hoarse sea-bird's shrill, discordant shriek,
Greets like the welcome of his tuneless beak!

Beneath each lamp that through its lattice gleams, 1740 Their fancy paints the friends that trim the beams. Oh! what can sanctify the joys of home,

Like Hope's gay glance from Ocean's troubled foam ?

XIX.

The lights are high on beacon and from bower,
And midst them Conrad seeks Medora's tower: 1745
He looks in vain-'tis strange-and all remark,
Amid so many, hers alone is dark.

'Tis strange-of yore its welcome never fail'd,
Nor now, perchance, extinguish'd, only veil'd.
With the first boat descends he for the shore,
And looks impatient on the lingering oar.
Oh! for a wing beyond the falcon's flight,
To bear him like an arrow to that height!
With the first pause the resting rowers gave,

1750

He waits not looks not-leaps into the wave, 1755 Strives through the surge, bestrides the beach, and high Ascends the path familiar to his eye.

1760

He reach'd his turret door---he paused---no sound
Broke from within; and all was night around.
He knock'd, and loudly---footstep nor reply
Announced that any heard or deem'd him nigh;
He knock'd---but faintly---for his trembling hand
Refused to aid his heavy heart's demand.
The portal opens---'tis a well known face---
But not the form he panted to embrace.

1765

Its lips are silent--twice his own essay'd,

And fail'd to frame the question they delay'd;
He snatch'd the lamp---its light will answer all--
It quits his grasp, expiring in the fall;

He would not wait for that reviving ray---
As soon could he have linger'd there for day;
But, glimmering through the dusky corridore,
Another chequers o'er the shadow'd floor;
His steps the chamber gain---his eyes behold
All that his heart believed not---yet foretold!

XX.

1770

1775

He turn'd not---spoke not---sunk not---fix'd his look,
And set the anxious frame that lately shook :
He gazed-how long we gaze despite of pain,
And know, but dare not own, we gaze in vain!
In life itself she was so still and fair,

1780

1785

That death with gentler aspect wither'd there;
And the cold flowers (16) her colder hand contain❜d,
In that last grasp as tenderly were strain'd
As if she scarcely felt, but feign'd a sleep,
And made it almost mockery yet to weep:
The long dark lashes fringed her lids of snow,
And veil'd--thought shrinks from all that lurk'd below--
Oh! o'er the eye death most exerts his might,
And hurls the spirit from her throne of light!
Sinks those blue orbs in that long last eclipse,
But spares, as yet, the charm around her lips—
Yet, yet they seem as they forbore to smile,
And wish'd repose-but only for a while;

1790

1795

But the white shroud, and each extended tress,
Long---fair---but spread in utter lifelessness,
Which, late the sport of every summer wind,
Escaped the baffled wreath that strove to bind;
These and the pale pure cheek, became the bier-
But she is nothing---wherefore is he here?

XXI.

1805

He ask'd no question---all were answer'd now 1800
By the first glance on that still---marble brow.
It was enough---she died---what reck'd it how?
The love of youth, the hope of better years,
The source of softest wishes, tenderest fears,
The only living thing he could not hate,
Was reft at once---and he deserved his fate,
But did not feel it less ;---the good explore,
For peace, those realms where guilt can never soar:
The proud---the wayward---who have fix'd below
Their joy---and find this earth enough for wo, 1810
Lose in that one their all---perchance a mite---
But who in patience parts with all delight?
Full many a stoic eye and aspect stern

Mask hearts where grief hath little left to learn;
And many a withering thought lies hid, not lost, 1815
In smiles that least befit who wear them most.

XXII.

By those, that deepest feel, is ill exprest
The indistinctness of the suffering breast;

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