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Thus rose fair Leila's whiter neck:-
Thus arm’d with beauty would she check
Intrusion's glance, till folly's gaze
Shrunk from the charms it meant to praise.
Thus high and graceful was her gait ;
Her heart as tender to her mate;
Her mate-stern Hassan, who was he?
Alas! that name was not for thee!



Stern Hassan hath a journey ta’en With twenty vassals in his train,

520 Each arm'd, as best becomes a man, With arquebuss and ataghan ; The chief before, as deck'd for war, Bears in his belt the scimitar Stain'd with the best of Arnaut blood,

525 When in the pass the rebels stood, And few return'd to tell the tale Of what befell in Parne's vale. The pistols which his girdle bore Were those that once a pasha wore,

530 Which still, though gemm'd and boss'd with gold, Even robbers tremble to behold. 'Tis said he goes to woo a bride More true than her who left his side; The faithless slave that broke her bower, 535 And, worse than faithless, for a Giaour!

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The sun's last rays are on the hill,
And sparkle in the fountain rill,
Whose welcome waters cool and clear,
Draw blessings from the mountaineer:

may the loitering merchant Greek
Find that repose 'twere vain to seek
In cities lodged too near his lord,
And trembling for his secret hoard-

he rest where none can see, In crowds a slave, in deserts free ; And with forbidden wine may stain The bowl a Moslem must not drain.


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The foremost Tartar's in the gap,
Conspicuous by his yellow cap;
The rest in lengthening line the while
Wind slowly through the long defile:
Above, the mountain rears a peak,
Where vultures whet the thirsty beak,
And theirs may be a feast to-night,
Shall tempt them down ere morrow's light;
Beneath, a river's wintry stream
Has shrunk before the summer beam,
And left a channel bleak and bare,
Save shrubs that spring to perish there:
Each side the midway path there lay
Small broken crags of granite gray,


By time, or mountain lightning, riven
From summits clad in mists of heaven;
For where is he that hath beheld
The peak of Liakura unveild:


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They reach the grove of pine at last : “ Bismillah! (26) now the peril's past ; “ For yonder view the opening plain, “ And there we'll prick our steeds amain :" The Chiaus spake, and as he said, A bullet whistled o'er his head; The foremost Tartar bites the ground!

Scarce had they time to check the rein, Swift from their steeds the riders bound;

But three shall never mount again:
Unseen the foes that gave the wound,

The dying ask revenge in vain.
With steel unsheath'd, and carbine bent,
Some o'er their courser's harness leant,

Half shelter'd by the steed;
Some fly behind the nearest rock,
And there await the coming shock,

Nor tamely stand to bleed
Beneath the shaft of foes unseen,
Who dare not quit their craggy screen.
Stern Hassan only from his horse
Disdains to light, and keeps his course,
Till fiery flashes in the van
Proclaim too sure the robber-clan



590 595


Have well secured the only way
Could now avail the promised prey;
Then curl'd his very beard (27) with ire,
And glared his eye with fiercer fire:

Though far and near the bullets hiss,
“ I've scaped a bloodier hour than this."
And now the foe their covert quit,
And call his vassals to submit;
But Hassan's frown and furious word
Are dreaded more than hostile sword,
Nor of his little band a man
Resign'd carbine or ataghan,
Nor raised the craven cry, Amaun! (28)
In fuller sight, more near and near,
The lately ambush'd foes appear,
And, issuing from the grove, advance
Some who on battle-charger prance.
Who leads them on with foreign brand,
Far flashing in his red right hand ?
“ 'Tis he! 'tis he! I know him now;
“ I know him by his pallid brow;
“ I know him by the evil eye (29)
“ That aids his envious treachery :
" I know him by his jet-black barb :
“ Though now array'd in Arnaut garb,

Apostate from his own vile faith, “ It shall not save him from the death: “ 'Tis he! well met in any hour, " Lost Leila's love, accursed Giaour!” VOL. II.




615 As rolls the river into ocean,

620 In sable torrent wildly streaming ;

As the sea-tide's opposing motion, In azure column proudly gleaming, Beats back the current many a rood, In curling foam and mingling flood,

625 While eddying whirl, and breaking wave, Roused by the blast of winter rave; Through sparkling spray, in thundering clash, The lightnings of the waters flash In awful whiteness o'er the shore,

630 That shines and shakes beneath the roar; Thus—as the stream and ocean greet, With waves that madden as they meetThus join the bands, whom mutual wrong, And fate, and fury, drive along.

635 The bickering sabre's shivering jar;

And pealing wide or ringing near

It echoes on the throbbing ear, The deathshot hissing f i afar; The shock, the shout, the groan of war, 640

Reverber ate along that vale,

More suited to the shepherd's tale: Though few the number—theirs the strife, That neither spares nor speaks for life ! Ah! fondly youthful hearts can press, 645 To seize and share the dear caress; But Love itself could never pant For all that Beauty sighs to grant

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