She looked and saw the heaving of the main; The white sail set she dared not look again, But turned 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 turned his head;
But shrunk whene'er the windings of his way
Forced on his eye what he would not survey, 510
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 reached 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 stopped 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. 520 He sees his bark, he notes how fair the wind, And sternly gathers all his might of mind:

}

The busy sounds, the bustle of the shore,
The shout, the signal, and the dashing oar;
As marks his eye the seaboy on the mast,
The anchor's rise, the sails unfurling fast,
The waving kerchiefs of the crowd that urge
That mute adieu to those who stem the surge; 530
And more than all, his blood-red flag aloft,
He marvelled how his heart could seem so soft.
Fire in his glance, and wildness in his breast,
He feels of all his former self possest;
He bounds he flies until his footsteps reach
The verge where ends the cliff, begins the beach,
There checks his speed; but pauses less to breathe
The breezy freshness of the deep beneath,
Than there his wonted statelier step renew; [0
Nor rush, disturbed by haste, to vulgar view: 540
For well had Conrad learned to curb the crowd,
By arts that veil, and oft preserve the proud;
His was the lofty port, the distant mien,
That seems to shun the sight and awes if seen:
The solemn aspect, and the high-born eye,
That checks low mirth, but lacks not courtesy;
All these he wielded to command assent:
But where he wished to win, so well unbent,
That kindness cancelled fear in those who heard,

And other's gifts shewed mean beside his word, 550 When echoed to the heart as from his own

His deep yet tender melody of tone:

But such was foreign to his wonted mood,
He cared not what he softened, but subdued;
The evil passions of his youth had made

Him value less who loved than what obeyed.

XVII.

Around him mustering ranged his ready guard. Before him Juan stands — “Are all prepared?” “They are— nay more — embarked: the latest boat "Waits but my chief —”

"My sword, and my capote." 560 Soon firmly girded on, and lightly slung, His belt and cloak were o'er his shoulders flang; “Call Pedro here!" He comes—and Conrad bends, With all the courtesy he deigned his friends; “Receive these tablets, and peruse with care, "Words of high trust and truth are graven there; "Double the guard, and when Anselmo's bark "Arrives, let him alike these orders mark: "In three days (serve the breeze) the sun shall shine “On our return―till then all peace be thine!” 570 This said, his brother Pirate's hand he wrung,

2

Then to his boat with haughty gesture sprung. Flashed the dipt oars, and sparkling with the stroke, Around the waves' phosphoric brightness broke; They gain the vessel on the deck he stands; Shrieks the shrill whistle

--

ply the busy handsHe marks how well the ship her helm obeys, How gallant all her crew and deigns to praise. His eyes of pride to young Gonsalvo turn Why doth he start, and inly seem to mourn? 580 Alas! those eyes beheld his rocky tower, And live a moment o'er the parting hour;

She his Medora

did she mark the prow?

Ah! never loved he half so inuch as now!

But much must yet be done ere dawn of day
Again he mans himself and turns away;
Down to the cabin with Gonsalvo bends,
And there unfolds his plan-his means and ends;
Before them burns the lamp, and spreads the chart,
And all that speaks and aids the naval art; 590
They to the midnight watch protract debate;
To anxious eyes what hour is ever late?
Mean time, the steady breeze serenely blew,
And fast and Falcon-like the vessel flew;
Passed the high headlands of cach clustering isle,
To gain their port-long-long ere morning smile:

And soon the night-glass through the narrow bay Discovers where the Pacha's galleys lay.

Count they each sail

and mark how there supine The lights in vain o'er heedless Moslem shine. Goo Secure, unnoted, Conrad's prow passed by, And anchored where his ambush meant to lic; Screened from espial by the jutting cape,

That rears on high its rude fantastic shape. Then rose his band to duty not from sleep

Equipped for deeds alike on land or deep;

While leaned their leader o'er the fretting flood, And calmly talked and yet he talked of blood!

END OF CANTO I.