My love! thou mock'st my weakness; and would'st steel

"My breast before the time when it must feel.

"But trifle now no more with my distress,

"Such mirth hath less of play than bitterness:
"Be silent, Conrad!-dearest-come and share

"The feast these hands delighted to prepare―

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Light toil! to cull and dress thy frugal fare!

"See, I have pluck'd the fruit that promised best,

"And where not sure, perplex'd, but pleased, I guess'd

"At such as seem'd the fairest: thrice the hill

My steps have wound to try the coolest rill;

"Yes! thy Sherbet to-night will sweetly flow, "See how it sparkles in its vase of snow!

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"The grapes' gay juice thy bosom never cheers— "Thou-more than Moslem-when the cup appears― "Think not I mean to chide-for I rejoice

"What others deem a penance is thy choice.

"But come-the board is spread-our silver lamp
"Is trimm'd, and heeds not the Sirocco's damp:
"Then shall my handmaids while the time along,
“And join with me the dance, or wake the song;
"Or my guitar, which still thou lov'st to hear,
"Shall soothe or lull-or, should it vex thine ear,

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"We'll turn the tale, by Ariosto told,

“ Of fair Olympia lov'd and left of old.'

"Why-thou wert worse than he who broke his vow "To that lost damsel, shouldst thou leave me now; 440 "Or even that traitor chief-I've seen thee smile,

"When the clear sky showed Ariadue's Isle,

"Which I have pointed from these cliffs the while : "And thus-half sportive-half in fear-I said,

"Lest Time should raise that doubt to more than dread, "Thus Conrad, too, will quit me for the main : "And he deceiv'd me-for-he came again!"

Again-again-and oft again—my love!

"If there be life below, and hope above,

"He will return-but now-the moments bring

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"The time of parting with redoubled wing:

"The why-the where what boots it now to tell? "Since all must end in that wild word-farewell! "Yet would I fain-did time allow-disclose

"Fear not these are no formidable foes;

"And here shall watch a more than wonted guard, "For sudden siege and long defence prepar'd:

"Nor be thou lonely-though thy lord's away,
"Our matrons and thy handmaids with thee stay;
"And this thy comfort-that, when next we meet,

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Security shall make repose more sweet: "List!-'tis the bugle-Juan shrilly blew"One kiss one more-another-Oh! Adieu!"

She rose she sprung-she clung to his embrace,
Till his heart heaved beneath her hidden face.
He dared not raise to his that deep-blue eye,
That downcast droop'd in tearless agony.
Her long fair hair lay floating o'er his arms,
In all the wildness of dishevelled charms;
Scarce beat that bosom-where his image dwelt-
So full-that feeling seem'd almost unfelt!
Hark-peals the thunder of the signal-gun!
It told 'twas sunset-and he curs'd that sun.
Again—again—that form he madly press'd,
Which mutely clasp'd—imploringly caress'd!
And tottering to the couch his bride he bore,
One moment gazed—as if to gaze no more—
Felt-that for him earth held but her alone,
Kiss'd her cold forehead-turn'd-is Conrad gone?

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XV.

"And is he gone?"-on sudden solitude

How oft that fearful question will intrude?

""Twas but an instant past-and here he stood!

"And now"-without the portal's porch she rush'd—
And then at length her tears in freedom gush'd,
Big-bright-and fast, unknown to her they fell;
But still her lips refus'd to send-“ Farewell!”
For in that word-that fatal word-howe'er

We promise-hope-believe-there breathes despair.
O'er every feature of that still, pale face,
Had sorrow fix'd what time can ne'er erase:
The tender blue of that large loving eye
Grew frozen with its gaze on vacancy→
Till-Oh, how far! it caught a glimpse of him—
And then it flow'd-and phrenzied seem'd to swim
Through those long, dark, and glistening lashes dew'd
With drops of sadness oft to be renew'd.
"He's gone!"—against her heart that hand is driven,
Convuls'd and quick-then gently raised to heaven;
She look'd and saw the heaving of the main ;
The white sail set-she dared not look again;

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But turn'd with sickening soul within the gate

"It is no dream-and I am desolate!"

XVI.

From crag to crag descending-swiftly sped
Stern Conrad down, nor once he turn'd his head;
But shrunk whene'er the windings of his way

Forced

on his eye

what he would not survey—

His lone, but lovely dwelling on the steep,

That hailed him first when homeward from the deep:
And she-the dim and melancholy star,

Whose ray of beauty reach'd him from afar,

On her he must not gaze, he must not think,
There he might rest-but on Destruction's brink-
Yet once almost he stopp'd-and nearly gave
His fate to chance, his projects to the wave;
But no-it must not be-a worthy chief
May melt, but not betray to woman's grief.
He sees his bark, he notes how fair the wind,
And sternly gathers all his might of mind:
Again he hurries on-and as he hears

The clang of tumult vibrate on his ears,

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