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Kaled his name, though rumour said he bore
Another ere he left his mountain shore;
For sometimes he would hear, however nigh,
That name repeated loud without reply,
As unfamiliar, or, if roused again,
Start to the sound, as but remember'd then;
Unless 'twas Lara's wonted voice that spake,
For then, ear, eyes, and heart would all awake.

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He had look'd down upon the festive hall,
And mark'd that sudden strife so mark'd of all;
And when the crowd around and near him told
Their wonder at the calmness of the bold, 595
Their marvel how the high-born Lara bore
Such insult from a stranger, doubly sore,
The colour of young Kaled went and came,
The lip of ashes, and the cheek of flame;
Ando'er his brow the dampening heart-drops threw 600
The sickening iciness of that cold dew,
That rises as the busy bosom sinks
With heavy thoughts from which reflection shrinks.
Yes—there be things that we must dream and dare,
And execute ere thought be half aware:

Whate'er might Kaled's be, it was enow
To seal his lip, but agonise his brow.
He gazed on Ezzelin till Lara cast
That sidelong smile upon the knight he past ;
When Kaled saw that smile his visage fell, 610
As if on something recognised right well;

His memory read in such a meaning more
Than Lara's aspect unto others wore:
Forward he sprung-a moment, both were gone,
And all within that hall seem'd left alone; 615
Each had so fix'd his eye on Lara's mien,
All had so mix'd their feelings with that scene,
That when his long dark shadow through the porch
No more relieves the glare of yon high torch,
Each pulse beats quicker, and all bosoms seem 620
To bound as doubting from too black a dream,
Such as we know is false, yet dread in sooth,
Because the worst is ever nearest truth.
And they are gone but Ezzelin is there,
With thoughtful visage and imperious air; 625
· But long remain'd not; ere an hour expired
He waved his hand to Otho, and retired.

XXIX. The crowd are gone, the revellers at rest; The courteous host, and all-approving guest, Again to that accustom'd couch must creep 630 Where joy subsides, and sorrow sighs to sleep, And man o'er-labour'd with his being's strife, Shrinks to that sweet forgetfulness of life: There lie love's feverish hope, and cunning's guile, Hate's working brain, and lull’d ambition's wile; 695 O’er each vain eye oblivion's pinions wave, And quench'd existence crouches in a grave,


What better name may slumber's bed become ?
Night's sepulchre, the universal home,
Where weakness, strength, vice, virtue, sunk supine,
Alike in paked helplessness recline;

Glad for awhile to heave unconscious breath,
Yet wake to wrestle with the dread of death,
And shun, though day but dawn on ills increast,
That sleep, the loveliest, since it dreams the least. 645





NIGHT wanes,the vapours round the mountains curl'd
Melt into morn, and Light awakes the world.
Man has another day to swell the past,
And lead him near to little, but his last ;
But mighty Nature bounds as from her birth, 650
The sun is in the heavens, and life on earth;
Flowers in the valley, splendour in the beam,
Health on the gale, and freshness in the stream.
Immortal man! behold her glories shine,
And cry, exulting inly, “ they are thine!"

Gaze on, while yet thy gladden'd eye may see;
A morrow comes when they are not for thee:
And grieve what may above thy senseless bier,
Nor earth nor sky will yield a single tear;
Nor cloud shall gather more, nor leaf shall fall, 660
Nor gale breathe forth one sigh for thee, for all;

But creeping things shall revel in their spoil,
And fit thy clay to fertilize the soil.

'Tis morn—'tis noon-assembled in the hall,
The gather'd chieftains come to Otho's call; 665
'Tis now the promis'd hour, that must proclaim
The life or death of Lara's future fame;
When Ezzelin his charge may here unfold,
And whatsoe'er the tale, it must be told.
His faith was pledged, and Lara's promise given, 670
To meet it in the eye of man and heaven.
Why comes he not? Such truths to be divulged,
Methinks the accuser's rest is long indulged.


The hour is past, and Lara too is there,
With self-confiding, coldly patient air ;

675 Why comes not Ezzelin? The hour is past, And murmurs rise, and Otho's brow 's o'ercast: " I know my friend ! his faith I cannot fear, “ If yet he be on earth, expect him here; “ The roof that held him in the valley stands 689 “Between my own and noble Lara's lands; “ My halls from such a guest had honour gain’d, “ Nor had Sir Ezzelin his host disdain'd, “But that some previous proof forbade his stay, " And urged him to prepare against to-day; 685

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