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“ Zuleika--to thy tower's retreat “ Betake thee-Giaffir I can greet: “ And now with him I fain must prate 455 “ Of firmans, imposts, levies, state. “ There's fearful news from Danube's banks, “ Our Vizier nobly thins his ranks, “ For which the Giaour may give him thanks! “ Our Sultan hath a shorter way
460 " Such costly triumph to repay. “ But, mark me, when the twilight drum
“ Hath warn'd the troops to food and sleep, “ Unto thy cell will Selim come:
“ Then softly from the Haram creep 465 “ Where we may wander by the deep;
“ Our garden battlements are steep ; “ Nor these will rash intruder climb “ To list our words, or stint our time; “ And if he doth, I want not steel
470 " Which some have felt, and more may feel. " Then shalt thou learn of Selim more “ Than thou hast heard or thought before ; “ Trust me, Zuleika-fear not me! “ Thou know'st I hold a Haram key." · 475
" Fear thee, my Selim! ne'er till now “ Did word like this"
“ Delay not thou;
I keep the key—and Haroun's guard “ Have some, and hope of more reward. « To-night, Zuleika, thou shalt hear “ My tale, my purpose, and my fear: 6 I am not, love! what I appear."
END OF CANTO I.
BRIDE OF ABYDOS.
THE winds are high on Helle's wave,
As on that night of stormy water
The lonely hope of Sestos' daughter.
but saw that light of love,
with Hero's song, “ Ye waves, divide not lovers long !"That tale is old, but love anew May nerve young hearts to prove as true.
The winds are high, and Helle's tide
Rolls darkly heaving to the main ; And Night's descending shadows hide
That field with blood bedew'd in vain,
The tombs, sole relics of his reign,
Oh! yet-for there my steps have been; 510
These feet have press'd the sacred shore, These limbs that buoyant wave hath borneMinstrel! with thee to muse, to mourn,
To trace again those fields of yore, Believing every hillock green
515 Contains no fabled hero's ashes, And that around the undoubted scene
Thine own“ broad Hellesport" (23) still dashes, Be long my lot! and cold were he Who there could gaze denying thee!
The night hath closed on Helle's stream,
Nor yet hath risen on Ida's hill
But conscious shepherds bless it still,