In masses by the fleshless dead:
Here, throughout the siege, had been
The Christian's chiefest magazine ;
To these a late formed train now led,
Minotti's last and stern resource
Against the foe's o'erwhelming force.
XXXII.

The foe came on, and few remain
To strive, and those must strive in vain :
For lack of further lives, to slake
The thirst of vengeance now awake,
With barbarous blows they gash the dead,
And lop the already lifeless head,
And fell the statues from their niche,
And spoil the shrines of offerings rich,
And from each other's rude hands wrest
The silver vessels saints had blessed,
To the high altar on they go;
Oh! but it made a glorious show!
On its table still behold

The cup of consecrated gold;
Massy and deep, a glittering prize,
Brightly it sparkles to plunderer's eyes:
That morn it held the holy wine,

Converted by Christ to his blood so divine,
Which his worshippers drank at the break of day,
To shrive their souls ere they joined in the fray.
Still a few drops within it lay;

And round the sacred table glow
Twelve lofty lamps, in splendid row,
From the purest metal cast;

A spoil the richest, and the last.

XXXIII.

So near they came, the nearest stretched
To grasp the spoil he almost reached,
When old Minotti's hand

Touched with the torch the train

'Tis fired!

Spire, vaults, the shrine, the spoil, the slain,

The turbaned victors, the Christian band, All that of living or dead remain,

Hurled on high with the shivered fane,

In one wild roar expired!

The shattered town-the walls thrown down-
The waves a moment backward bent-
The hills that shake, although unrent,
As if an earthquake passed-

The thousand shapeless things all driven
In cloud and flame athwart the heaven,
By that tremendous blast-

Proclaimed the desperate conflict o'er
On that too long afflicted shore :
Up to the sky like rockets go
All that mingled there below:
Many a tall and goodly man,
Scorched and shrivelled to a span,
When he fell to earth again
Like a cinder strewed the plain :

Down the ashes shower like rain;

Some fell in the gulf, which received the sprinkles

With a thousand circling wrinkles;

Some fell on the shore, but, far away,

Scattered o'er the isthmus lay;

Christian or Moslem, which be they?
Let their mothers see and say!
When in cradled rest they lay,
And each nursing mother smiled
On the sweet sleep of her child,
Little deemed she such a day
Would rend those tender limbs away.
Not the matrons that them bore
Could discern their offspring more;
That one moment left no trace
More of human form or face,

Save a scattered scalp or bone:

And down came blazing rafters, strewn
Around, and many a falling stone,
Deeply dinted in the clay,

All blackened there and reeking lay.
All the living things that heard
That deadly earth shock, disappeared :
The wild birds flew ; the wild dogs fled,
And howling left the unburied dead;
The camels from their keepers broke;
The distant steer forsook the yoke-
The nearer steed plunged o'er the plain,
And burst his girth, and tore his rein;
The bull-frog's note, from out the marsh,
Deep-mouthed arose, and doubly harsh;
The wolves yelled on the caverned hill,
Where echo rolled in thunder still;
The jackal's troop, in gathered cry,
Bayed from afar complainingly,
With a mixed and mournful sound,
Like crying babe and beaten hound:
With sudden wing, and ruffled breast,
The eagle left his rocky nest,
And mounted nearer to the sun,

The clouds beneath him seemed so dun ;
Their smoke assailed his startled beak,
And made him higher soar and shriek-
Thus was Corinth lost and won!

Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle
Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime,
Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,
Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime!
Know ye the land of the cedar and vine,

Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine,
Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppressed with perfume,
Wax faint o'er the gardens of gul in her bloom,
Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit,
And the voice of the nightingale never is mute,
Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky,
In colour though varied, in beauty may vie,
And the purple of Ocean is deepest in die,
Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine,
And all, save the spirit of man, is divine?

Tis the clime of the East, 'tis the land of the Sun-
Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done?
Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell

Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they

tell.

II.

Begirt with many a gallant slave,
Apparelled as becomes the brave:
Awaiting each his Lord's behest
To guide his steps, or guard his rest,
Old Giaffir sate in his Divan:

Deep thought was in his aged eye;
And though the face of Mussulman
Not oft betrays to standers by
The mind within, well skilled to hide
All but unconquerable pride,

His pensive cheek and pondering brow
Did more than he was wout avow.

III.

«Let the chamber be cleared. >> The train disappeared «Now call me the chief of the Haram guard. With Giaffir is none but his only son,

And the Nubian awaiting the sire's award. <<< Haroun when all the crowd that wait

«<< Are passed beyond the outer gate,

(Woe to the head whose eye beheld
My child Zuleika's face unveiled!)

Hence, lead my daughter from the tower;
Her fate is fixed this very hour:

Yet not to her repeat my thought;

By me alone be duty taught!

>>

Pacha! to hear is to obey.
No more must slave to despot say
Then to the tower had ta'en his way,
But here young Selim silence brake,
First lowly rendering reverence meet;
And downcast looked, and lently spake,
Still standing at the Pacha's feet:
For son of Moslem must expire,

Ere dare to sit before his sire!

Father! for fear that thou should'st chide
My sister, or her sable guide,

сс

Know

for the fault, if fault there be,