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"I come through darkness

why

and I scarce know

"Yet not to hurt

I would not see thee die."

"If so, kind lady! thine the only eye

1050

"That would not here in that gay hope delight: "Theirs is the chance and let them use their

right.

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"But still I thank their courtesy or thine,

"That would confess me at so fair a shrine!"

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Strange though it seem yet with extremest grief
Is linked a mirth it doth not bring relief
That playfulness of Sorrow ne'er beguiles,
And smiles in bitterness but still it smiles;
And sometimes with the wisest and the best,
Till even the scaffold 10 echoes with their jest! 1060
Yet not the joy to which it seems akin
It may deceive all hearts, save that within.
Whate'er it was that flashed on Conrad, now
A laughing wildness half unbent his brow:
And these his accents had a sound of mirth,
As if the last he could enjoy on earth;

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Yet 'gainst his nature for through that short life, Few thoughts had he to spare from gloom and strife.

XIV.

"Corsair! thy doom is named

but I have power

"To soothe the Pacha in his weaker hour. 1070

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"But all I can, I will: at least, delay "The sentence that remits thee scarce a day, "More now were ruin even thyself were loth "The vain attempt should bring but doom to

both."

"Yes!loth indeed: - my soul is nerved to all, "Or fall'n too low to fear a further fall:

"Tempt not thyself with peril; me with hope, "Of flight from foes with whom I could not

cope;

"Unfit to vanquish -shall I meanly fly,

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1080

"The one of all my band that would not die? "Yet there is one to whom my memory clings, "Till to these eyes her own wild softness springs. "My sole resources in the path I trod

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love my God!

"The last I left in youth he leaves me now

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'And Man but works his will to lay me low. "I have no thought to mock his throne with

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"My sword is shaken from the worthless hand "That might have better kept so true a brand;

"My bark is sunk or captive

but my love → "For her in sooth my voice would mount above: "Oh! she is all that still to earth can bind

“And this will break a heart so more than kind, "And blight a form till thine appeared,

Gulnare!

"Mine eye ne'er asked if others were as fair?” "Thou lov'st another then? - but what to me 1100 "Is this 'tis nothing nothing e'er can be:

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"But yet — thon lov'st — and Oh! I envy those "Whose hearts on hearts as faithful can repose, "Who never feel the void the wandering

thought

"That sighs o'er visions

wrought.”

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"Lady methought thy love was his, for whom "This arm redeemed thee from a fiery tomb."

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"Yet much this heart, that strifes no more, once

strove

"To meet his passion — but it would not be. 1110 “I felt - I feel - love dwells with - with the free. “I am a slave, a favoured slave at best,

"To share his splendour, and seem very blest! "Oft must my soul the question undergo, “Of— Dost thou love?' and burn to answer 'No!' "Oh! hard it is that fondness to sustain, “And struggle not to feel averse in vain; ¿But harder still the heart's recoil to bear, "And hide from one - perhaps another there. "He takes the hand I give not

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nor with

1120

"Its pulse nor checked-nor quickened- calmly

cold:

"And when resigned, it drops a lifeless weight "From one I never loved enough to hate.

"No warmth these lips return by his imprest, "And chilled remembrance shudders o'er the rest. "Yes had I ever proved that passion's zeal,

"But still

"The change to hatred were at least to feel: he goes unmourned returns unsought

-

And oft when present

absent from my thought. "Or when reflection comes, and come it must— 1130 "I fear that henceforth 'twill but bring disgust; "I am his slave — but, in despite of pride, "Twere worse than bondage to become his bride. “Oh! that this dotage of his breast would cease! "Or seek another and give mine release,

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"But yesterday I could have said, to peace! "Yes if unwonted fondness now I feign, "Remember-captive! 'tis to break thy chain. "Repay the life that to thy hand I owe;

"To give thee back to all endeared below, 1140 "Who share such love as I can never know. "Farewell—morn breaks - and I must now away: ""Twill cost me dear—but dread no death to-day!"

XV.

She pressed his fettered fingers to her heart,
And bowed her head, and turned her to depart,
And noiseless as a lovely dream is gone.

And was she here? and is he now alone?

What gem hath dropped and sparkles o'er his chain? The tear most sacred, shed for other's pain,

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