No More Learning

Death is but what the haughty brave,
The weak must bear, the wretch must crave;
Then let life go to Him who gave:
I have not quailed to Danger's brow
When high and happy--need I _now_?

* * * * *

"I loved her, Friar! nay, adored--
But these are words that all can use-- 1030
I proved it more in deed than word;
There's blood upon that dinted sword,
A stain its steel can never lose:
'Twas shed for her, who died for me,
It warmed the heart of one abhorred:
Nay, start not--no--nor bend thy knee,
Nor midst my sin such act record;
Thou wilt absolve me from the deed,
For he was hostile to thy creed!
The very name of Nazarene 1040
Was wormwood to his Paynim spleen.
Ungrateful fool! since but for brands
Well wielded in some hardy hands,
And wounds by Galileans given--
The surest pass to Turkish heaven--
For him his Houris still might wait
Impatient at the Prophet's gate.
I loved her--Love will find its way
Through paths where wolves would fear to prey;
And if it dares enough,'twere hard 1050
If Passion met not some reward--
No matter how, or where, or why,
I did not vainly seek, nor sigh:
Yet sometimes, with remorse, in vain
I wish she had not loved again.
She died--I dare not tell thee how;
But look--'tis written on my brow!
There read of Cain the curse and crime,
In characters unworn by Time:
Still, ere thou dost condemn me, pause; 1060
Not mine the act, though I the cause.
Yet did he but what I had done
Had she been false to more than one.
Faithless to him--he gave the blow;
But true to me--I laid him low:
Howe'er deserved her doom might be,
Her treachery was truth to me;
To me she gave her heart, that all
Which Tyranny can ne'er enthrall;
And I, alas! too late to save! 1070
Yet all I then could give, I gave--
'Twas some relief--our foe a grave. [ed]
His death sits lightly; but her fate
Has made me--what thou well mayst hate.
His doom was sealed--he knew it well,
Warned by the voice of stern Taheer,
Deep in whose darkly boding ear[117]
The deathshot pealed of murder near,
As filed the troop to where they fell!
He died too in the battle broil, 1080
A time that heeds nor pain nor toil;
One cry to Mahomet for aid,
One prayer to Alla all he made:
He knew and crossed me in the fray--
I gazed upon him where he lay,
And watched his spirit ebb away:
Though pierced like pard by hunter's steel,
He felt not half that now I feel.
I searched, but vainly searched, to find
The workings of a wounded mind; 1090
Each feature of that sullen corse
Betrayed his rage, but no remorse. [118]
Oh, what had Vengeance given to trace
Despair upon his dying face!
The late repentance of that hour
When Penitence hath lost her power
To tear one terror from the grave,[ee]
And will not soothe, and cannot save.

* * * * *

"The cold in clime are cold in blood,
Their love can scarce deserve the name; 1100
But mine was like the lava flood
That boils in AEtna's breast of flame.
I cannot prate in puling strain
Of Ladye-love, and Beauty's chain:
If changing cheek, and scorching vein,[ef]
Lips taught to writhe, but not complain,
If bursting heart, and maddening brain,
And daring deed, and vengeful steel,
And all that I have felt, and feel,
Betoken love--that love was mine, 1110
And shown by many a bitter sign.
'Tis true, I could not whine nor sigh,
I knew but to obtain or die.
I die--but first I have possessed,
And come what may, I _have been_ blessed.
Shall I the doom I sought upbraid?
No--reft of all, yet undismayed[eg]
But for the thought of Leila slain,
Give me the pleasure with the pain,
So would I live and love again. 1120
I grieve, but not, my holy Guide!
For him who dies, but her who died:
She sleeps beneath the wandering wave--
Ah! had she but an earthly grave,
This breaking heart and throbbing head
Should seek and share her narrow bed.
She was a form of Life and Light,[119]
That, seen, became a part of sight;
And rose, where'er I turned mine eye,
The Morning-star of Memory! 1130

"Yes, Love indeed is light from heaven;[eh][120]
A spark of that immortal fire
With angels shared, by Alia given,
To lift from earth our low desire.
Devotion wafts the mind above,
But Heaven itself descends in Love;
A feeling from the Godhead caught,
To wean from self each sordid thought;
A ray of Him who formed the whole;
A Glory circling round the soul! 1140
I grant _my_ love imperfect, all
That mortals by the name miscall;
Then deem it evil, what thou wilt;
But say, oh say, _hers_ was not Guilt!
She was my Life's unerring Light:
That quenched--what beam shall break my night? [ei]
Oh! would it shone to lead me still,
Although to death or deadliest ill!
Why marvel ye, if they who lose
This present joy, this future hope, 1150
No more with Sorrow meekly cope;
In phrensy then their fate accuse;
In madness do those fearful deeds
That seem to add but Guilt to Woe?
Alas! the breast that inly bleeds
Hath nought to dread from outward blow:
Who falls from all he knows of bliss,
Cares little into what abyss. [ej]
Fierce as the gloomy vulture's now
To thee, old man, my deeds appear: 1160
I read abhorrence on thy brow,
And this too was I born to bear!
'Tis true, that, like that bird of prey,
With havock have I marked my way:
But this was taught me by the dove,
To die--and know no second love.
This lesson yet hath man to learn,
Taught by the thing he dares to spurn:
The bird that sings within the brake,
The swan that swims upon the lake, 1170
One mate, and one alone, will take.
And let the fool still prone to range,[ek]
And sneer on all who cannot change,
Partake his jest with boasting boys;
I envy not his varied joys,
But deem such feeble, heartless man,
Less than yon solitary swan;
Far, far beneath the shallow maid[el]
He left believing and betrayed.
Such shame at least was never mine-- 1180
Leila! each thought was only thine!
My good, my guilt, my weal, my woe,
My hope on high--my all below.
Each holds no other like to thee,
Or, if it doth, in vain for me:
For worlds I dare not view the dame
Resembling thee, yet not the same.
The very crimes that mar my youth,
This bed of death--attest my truth!
'Tis all too late--thou wert, thou art 1190
The cherished madness of my heart! [em]

"And she was lost--and yet I breathed,
But not the breath of human life:
A serpent round my heart was wreathed,
And stung my every thought to strife.
Alike all time, abhorred all place,[en]
Shuddering I shrank from Nature's face,
Where every hue that charmed before
The blackness of my bosom wore.
The rest thou dost already know, 1200
And all my sins, and half my woe.
But talk no more of penitence;
Thou seest I soon shall part from hence:
And if thy holy tale were true,
The deed that's done canst _thou_ undo?
Think me not thankless--but this grief
Looks not to priesthood for relief. [eo][121]
My soul's estate in secret guess:
But wouldst thou pity more, say less.
When thou canst bid my Leila live, 1210
Then will I sue thee to forgive;
Then plead my cause in that high place
Where purchased masses proffer grace. [ep]
Go, when the hunter's hand hath wrung
From forest-cave her shrieking young,
And calm the lonely lioness:
But soothe not--mock not _my_ distress!

"In earlier days, and calmer hours,
When heart with heart delights to blend,
Where bloom my native valley's bowers,[eq] 1220
I had--Ah! have I now? --a friend! [er]
To him this pledge I charge thee send,[es]
Memorial of a youthful vow;
I would remind him of my end:
Though souls absorbed like mine allow
Brief thought to distant Friendship's claim,
Yet dear to him my blighted name.
'Tis strange--he prophesied my doom,
And I have smiled--I then could smile--
When Prudence would his voice assume, 1230
And warn--I recked not what--the while:
But now Remembrance whispers o'er[et]
Those accents scarcely marked before.
Say--that his bodings came to pass,
And he will start to hear their truth,
And wish his words had not been sooth:
Tell him--unheeding as I was,
Through many a busy bitter scene
Of all our golden youth had been,
In pain, my faltering tongue had tried 1240
To bless his memory--ere I died;
But Heaven in wrath would turn away,
If Guilt should for the guiltless pray.
I do not ask him not to blame,
Too gentle he to wound my name;
And what have I to do with Fame?
I do not ask him not to mourn,
Such cold request might sound like scorn;
And what than Friendship's manly tear
May better grace a brother's bier? 1250
But bear this ring, his own of old,
And tell him--what thou dost behold!
The withered frame, the ruined mind,
The wrack by passion left behind,
A shrivelled scroll, a scattered leaf,
Seared by the autumn blast of Grief!

* * * * *

"Tell me no more of Fancy's gleam,
No, father, no,'twas not a dream;
Alas! the dreamer first must sleep,
I only watched, and wished to weep; 1260
But could not, for my burning brow
Throbbed to the very brain as now:
I wished but for a single tear,
As something welcome, new, and dear:
I wished it then, I wish it still;
Despair is stronger than my will.
Waste not thine orison, despair[eu]
Is mightier than thy pious prayer:
I would not, if I might, be blest;
I want no Paradise, but rest. 1270
'Twas then--I tell thee--father! then
I saw her; yes, she lived again;
And shining in her white symar[122]
As through yon pale gray cloud the star
Which now I gaze on, as on her,
Who looked and looks far lovelier;
Dimly I view its trembling spark;[ev]
To-morrow's night shall be more dark;
And I, before its rays appear,
That lifeless thing the living fear. 1280
I wander--father! for my soul
Is fleeting towards the final goal.
I saw her--friar! and I rose
Forgetful of our former woes;
And rushing from my couch, I dart,
And clasp her to my desperate heart;
I clasp--what is it that I clasp?
No breathing form within my grasp,
No heart that beats reply to mine--
Yet, Leila! yet the form is thine! 1290
And art thou, dearest, changed so much
As meet my eye, yet mock my touch?
Ah! were thy beauties e'er so cold,
I care not--so my arms enfold
The all they ever wished to hold.
Alas! around a shadow prest
They shrink upon my lonely breast;
Yet still 'tis there! In silence stands,
And beckons with beseeching hands!
With braided hair, and bright-black eye-- 1300
I knew 'twas false--she could not die!
But _he_ is dead! within the dell
I saw him buried where he fell;
He comes not--for he cannot break
From earth;--why then art _thou_ awake?
They told me wild waves rolled above
The face I view--the form I love;
They told me--'twas a hideous tale! --
I'd tell it, but my tongue would fail:
If true, and from thine ocean-cave 1310
Thou com'st to claim a calmer grave,
Oh! pass thy dewy fingers o'er
This brow that then will burn no more;
Or place them on my hopeless heart:
But, Shape or Shade! whate'er thou art,
In mercy ne'er again depart!
Or farther with thee bear my soul
Than winds can waft or waters roll!

* * * * *

"Such is my name, and such my tale.
Confessor! to thy secret ear 1320
I breathe the sorrows I bewail,
And thank thee for the generous tear
This glazing eye could never shed.
Then lay me with the humblest dead,[ew]
And, save the cross above my head,
Be neither name nor emblem spread,
By prying stranger to be read,
Or stay the passing pilgrim's tread. "[123]

He passed--nor of his name and race
He left a token or a trace, 1330
Save what the Father must not say
Who shrived him on his dying day:
This broken tale was all we knew[ex]
Of her he loved, or him he slew.
to

the right honourable

LORD HOLLAND,

this tale

is inscribed, with

every sentiment of regard

and respect,

by his gratefully obliged

and sincere friend,

BYRON. [ey]




THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS. [124]



CANTO THE FIRST.

I.

Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle[125]
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[126] in her bloom;
Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit,
And the voice of the nightingale never is mute;[127] 10
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 dye;
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? [128]
Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell[ez]
Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell.

II. [fa]

Begirt with many a gallant slave, 20
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[fb] 30
Did more than he was wont 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 her tower--[fc] 40
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 gently spake,
Still standing at the Pacha's feet: 50
For son of Moslem must expire,
Ere dare to sit before his sire!
"Father! for fear that thou shouldst chide
My sister, or her sable guide--
Know--for the fault, if fault there be,
Was mine--then fall thy frowns on me!
So lovelily the morning shone,
That--let the old and weary sleep--
I could not; and to view alone
The fairest scenes of land and deep, 60
With none to listen and reply
To thoughts with which my heart beat high
Were irksome--for whate'er my mood,
In sooth I love not solitude;
I on Zuleika's slumber broke,
And, as thou knowest that for me
Soon turns the Haram's grating key,
Before the guardian slaves awoke
We to the cypress groves had flown,
And made earth, main, and heaven our own! 70
There lingered we, beguiled too long
With Mejnoun's tale, or Sadi's song;[fd][129]
Till I, who heard the deep tambour[130]
Beat thy Divan's approaching hour,
To thee, and to my duty true,
Warned by the sound, to greet thee flew:
But there Zuleika wanders yet--
Nay, Father, rage not--nor forget
That none can pierce that secret bower
But those who watch the women's tower. " 80

IV.

"Son of a slave"--the Pacha said--
"From unbelieving mother bred,
Vain were a father's hope to see
Aught that beseems a man in thee.
Thou, when thine arm should bend the bow,
And hurl the dart, and curb the steed,
Thou, Greek in soul if not in creed,
Must pore where babbling waters flow,[fe]
And watch unfolding roses blow.
Would that yon Orb, whose matin glow 90
Thy listless eyes so much admire,
Would lend thee something of his fire!
Thou, who woulds't see this battlement
By Christian cannon piecemeal rent;
Nay, tamely view old Stambol's wall
Before the dogs of Moscow fall,
Nor strike one stroke for life and death
Against the curs of Nazareth!
Go--let thy less than woman's hand
Assume the distaff--not the brand. 100
But, Haroun! --to my daughter speed:
And hark--of thine own head take heed--
If thus Zuleika oft takes wing--
Thou see'st yon bow--it hath a string! "

V.

No sound from Selim's lip was heard,
At least that met old Giaffir's ear,
But every frown and every word
Pierced keener than a Christian's sword.
"Son of a slave! --reproached with fear!
Those gibes had cost another dear. 110
Son of a slave! --and _who_ my Sire? "
Thus held his thoughts their dark career;
And glances ev'n of more than ire[ff]
Flash forth, then faintly disappear.
Old Giaffir gazed upon his son
And started; for within his eye
He read how much his wrath had done;
He saw rebellion there begun:
"Come hither, boy--what, no reply?
I mark thee--and I know thee too; 120
But there be deeds thou dar'st not do:
But if thy beard had manlier length,
And if thy hand had skill and strength,
I'd joy to see thee break a lance,
Albeit against my own perchance. "
As sneeringly these accents fell,
On Selim's eye he fiercely gazed:
That eye returned him glance for glance,
And proudly to his Sire's was raised[fg],
Till Giaffir's quailed and shrunk askance-- 130
And why--he felt, but durst not tell.
"Much I misdoubt this wayward boy
Will one day work me more annoy:
I never loved him from his birth,
And--but his arm is little worth,
And scarcely in the chase could cope
With timid fawn or antelope,
Far less would venture into strife
Where man contends for fame and life--
I would not trust that look or tone: 140
No--nor the blood so near my own. [fh]
That blood--he hath not heard--no more--
I'll watch him closer than before.
He is an Arab[131] to my sight,
Or Christian crouching in the fight--[fi]
But hark! --I hear Zuleika's voice;
Like Houris' hymn it meets mine ear:
She is the offspring of my choice;
Oh! more than ev'n her mother dear,
With all to hope, and nought to fear-- 150
My Peri! ever welcome here! [fj]
Sweet, as the desert fountain's wave
To lips just cooled in time to save--
Such to my longing sight art thou;
Nor can they waft to Mecca's shrine
More thanks for life, than I for thine,
Who blest thy birth and bless thee now. "[fk]

VI.

Fair, as the first that fell of womankind,
When on that dread yet lovely serpent smiling,
Whose Image then was stamped upon her mind-- 160
But once beguiled--and ever more beguiling;
Dazzling, as that, oh! too transcendent vision
To Sorrow's phantom-peopled slumber given,
When heart meets heart again in dreams Elysian,
And paints the lost on Earth revived in Heaven;
Soft, as the memory of buried love;
Pure, as the prayer which Childhood wafts above;
Was she--the daughter of that rude old Chief,
Who met the maid with tears--but not of grief.

Who hath not proved how feebly words essay[132] 170
To fix one spark of Beauty's heavenly ray?
Who doth not feel, until his failing sight[fl]
Faints into dimness with its own delight,
His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess
The might--the majesty of Loveliness?
Such was Zuleika--such around her shone
The nameless charms unmarked by her alone--
The light of Love, the purity of Grace,[fm]
The mind, the Music[133] breathing from her face,
The heart whose softness harmonized the whole, 180
And oh! that eye was in itself a Soul!

Her graceful arms in meekness bending
Across her gently-budding breast;
At one kind word those arms extending
To clasp the neck of him who blest
His child caressing and carest,
Zuleika came--and Giaffir felt
His purpose half within him melt:
Not that against her fancied weal
His heart though stern could ever feel; 190
Affection chained her to that heart;
Ambition tore the links apart.

VII.

"Zuleika! child of Gentleness!
How dear this very day must tell,
When I forget my own distress,
In losing what I love so well,
To bid thee with another dwell:
Another! and a braver man
Was never seen in battle's van.
We Moslem reck not much of blood: 200
But yet the line of Carasman[134]
Unchanged, unchangeable hath stood
First of the bold Timariot bands
That won and well can keep their lands. [fn]
Enough that he who comes to woo[fo]
Is kinsman of the Bey Oglou:[135]
His years need scarce a thought employ;
I would not have thee wed a boy.
And thou shalt have a noble dower:
And his and my united power 210
Will laugh to scorn the death-firman,
Which others tremble but to scan,
And teach the messenger[136] what fate
The bearer of such boon may wait.
And now thou know'st thy father's will;
All that thy sex hath need to know:
'Twas mine to teach obedience still--
The way to love, thy Lord may show. "

VIII.

In silence bowed the virgin's head;
And if her eye was filled with tears 220
That stifled feeling dare not shed,
And changed her cheek from pale to red,
And red to pale, as through her ears
Those winged words like arrows sped,
What could such be but maiden fears?
So bright the tear in Beauty's eye,
Love half regrets to kiss it dry;
So sweet the blush of Bashfulness,
Even Pity scarce can wish it less!

Whate'er it was the sire forgot: 230
Or if remembered, marked it not;
Thrice clapped his hands, and called his steed,[137]
Resigned his gem-adorned chibouque,[138]
And mounting featly for the mead,
With Maugrabeel[139] and Mamaluke,
His way amid his Delis took,[140]
To witness many an active deed
With sabre keen, or blunt jerreed.
The Kislar only and his Moors[141]
Watch well the Haram's massy doors. 240

IX.

His head was leant upon his hand,
His eye looked o'er the dark blue water
That swiftly glides and gently swells
Between the winding Dardanelles;
But yet he saw nor sea nor strand,
Nor even his Pacha's turbaned band
Mix in the game of mimic slaughter,
Careering cleave the folded felt[142]
With sabre stroke right sharply dealt;
Nor marked the javelin-darting crowd, 250
Nor heard their Ollahs[143] wild and loud--
He thought but of old Giaffir's daughter!

X.

No word from Selim's bosom broke;
One sigh Zuleika's thought bespoke:
Still gazed he through the lattice grate,
Pale, mute, and mournfully sedate.
To him Zuleika's eye was turned,
But little from his aspect learned:
Equal her grief, yet not the same;
Her heart confessed a gentler flame:[fp] 260
But yet that heart, alarmed or weak,
She knew not why, forbade to speak.
Yet speak she must--but when essay?
"How strange he thus should turn away!
Not thus we e'er before have met;
Not thus shall be our parting yet. "
Thrice paced she slowly through the room,
And watched his eye--it still was fixed:
She snatched the urn wherein was mixed
The Persian Atar-gul's perfume,[144] 270
And sprinkled all its odours o'er
The pictured roof[145] and marble floor:
The drops, that through his glittering vest[fq]
The playful girl's appeal addressed,
Unheeded o'er his bosom flew,
As if that breast were marble too.
"What, sullen yet? it must not be--
Oh! gentle Selim, this from thee! "
She saw in curious order set
The fairest flowers of Eastern land-- 280
"He loved them once; may touch them yet,
If offered by Zuleika's hand. "
The childish thought was hardly breathed
Before the rose was plucked and wreathed;
The next fond moment saw her seat
Her fairy form at Selim's feet:
"This rose to calm my brother's cares
A message from the Bulbul[146] bears;
It says to-night he will prolong
For Selim's ear his sweetest song; 290
And though his note is somewhat sad,
He'll try for once a strain more glad,
With some faint hope his altered lay
May sing these gloomy thoughts away.

XI.

"What! not receive my foolish flower?
Nay then I am indeed unblest:
On me can thus thy forehead lower?
And know'st thou not who loves thee best? [fr]
Oh, Selim dear! oh, more than dearest!
Say, is it me thou hat'st or fearest? 300
Come, lay thy head upon my breast,
And I will kiss thee into rest,
Since words of mine, and songs must fail,
Ev'n from my fabled nightingale.
I knew our sire at times was stern,
But this from thee had yet to learn:
Too well I know he loves thee not;
But is Zuleika's love forgot?
Ah! deem I right? the Pacha's plan--
This kinsman Bey of Carasman 310
Perhaps may prove some foe of thine.
If so, I swear by Mecca's shrine,--[fs]
If shrines that ne'er approach allow
To woman's step admit her vow,--
Without thy free consent--command--
The Sultan should not have my hand!
Think'st thou that I could bear to part
With thee, and learn to halve my heart?
Ah! were I severed from thy side,
Where were thy friend--and who my guide? 320
Years have not seen, Time shall not see,
The hour that tears my soul from thee:[ft]
Ev'n Azrael,[147] from his deadly quiver
When flies that shaft, and fly it must,[fu]
That parts all else, shall doom for ever
Our hearts to undivided dust! "

XII.
He lived--he breathed--he moved--he felt;
He raised the maid from where she knelt;
His trance was gone, his keen eye shone
With thoughts that long in darkness dwelt; 330
With thoughts that burn--in rays that melt.
As the stream late concealed
By the fringe of its willows,
When it rushes reveal'd
In the light of its billows;
As the bolt bursts on high
From the black cloud that bound it,
Flashed the soul of that eye
Through the long lashes round it.
A war-horse at the trumpet's sound, 340
A lion roused by heedless hound,
A tyrant waked to sudden strife
By graze of ill-directed knife,[fv]
Starts not to more convulsive life
Than he, who heard that vow, displayed,
And all, before repressed, betrayed:
"Now thou art mine, for ever mine,
With life to keep, and scarce with life resign;[fw]
Now thou art mine, that sacred oath,
Though sworn by one, hath bound us both. 350
Yes, fondly, wisely hast thou done;
That vow hath saved more heads than one:
But blench not thou--thy simplest tress
Claims more from me than tenderness;
I would not wrong the slenderest hair
That clusters round thy forehead fair,[fx]
For all the treasures buried far
Within the caves of Istakar. [148]
This morning clouds upon me lowered,
Reproaches on my head were showered, 360
And Giaffir almost called me coward!
Now I have motive to be brave;
The son of his neglected slave,
Nay, start not,'twas the term he gave,
May show, though little apt to vaunt,
A heart his words nor deeds can daunt.
_His_ son, indeed! --yet, thanks to thee,
Perchance I am, at least shall be;
But let our plighted secret vow
Be only known to us as now. 370
I know the wretch who dares demand
From Giaffir thy reluctant hand;
More ill-got wealth, a meaner soul
Holds not a Musselim's[149] control;
Was he not bred in Egripo? [150]
A viler race let Israel show!
But let that pass--to none be told
Our oath; the rest shall time unfold.
To me and mine leave Osman Bey!
I've partisans for Peril's day: 380
Think not I am what I appear;
I've arms--and friends--and vengeance near. "

XIII.

"Think not thou art what thou appearest!
My Selim, thou art sadly changed:
This morn I saw thee gentlest--dearest--
But now thou'rt from thyself estranged.
My love thou surely knew'st before,
It ne'er was less--nor can be more.
To see thee--hear thee--near thee stay--
And hate the night--I know not why, 390
Save that we meet not but by day;
With thee to live, with thee to die,
I dare not to my hope deny:
Thy cheek--thine eyes--thy lips to kiss--
Like this--and this--no more than this;[fy]
For, Allah! sure thy lips are flame:
What fever in thy veins is flushing?
My own have nearly caught the same,
At least I feel my cheek, too, blushing.
To soothe thy sickness, watch thy health, 400
Partake, but never waste thy wealth,
Or stand with smiles unmurmuring by,
And lighten half thy poverty;
Do all but close thy dying eye,
For that I could not live to try;
To these alone my thoughts aspire:
More can I do? or thou require?
But, Selim, thou must answer why[fz]
We need so much of mystery?
The cause I cannot dream nor tell, 410
But be it, since thou say'st 'tis well;
Yet what thou mean'st by 'arms' and 'friends,'
Beyond my weaker sense extends.
I meant that Giaffir should have heard
The very vow I plighted thee;
His wrath would not revoke my word:
But surely he would leave me free.
Can this fond wish seem strange in me,
To be what I have ever been?
What other hath Zuleika seen 420
From simple childhood's earliest hour?
What other can she seek to see
Than thee, companion of her bower,
The partner of her infancy?
These cherished thoughts with life begun,
Say, why must I no more avow?
What change is wrought to make me shun
The truth--my pride, and thine till now?
To meet the gaze of stranger's eyes
Our law--our creed--our God denies; 430
Nor shall one wandering thought of mine
At such, our Prophet's will, repine:
No! happier made by that decree,
He left me all in leaving thee.
Deep were my anguish, thus compelled[ga]
To wed with one I ne'er beheld:
This wherefore should I not reveal?
Why wilt thou urge me to conceal? [gb]
I know the Pacha's haughty mood
To thee hath never boded good; 440
And he so often storms at nought,
Allah! forbid that e'er he ought!
And why I know not, but within
My heart concealment weighs like sin. [gc]
If then such secrecy be crime,
And such it feels while lurking here;
Oh, Selim! tell me yet in time,
Nor leave me thus to thoughts of fear.
Ah! yonder see the Tchocadar,[151]
My father leaves the mimic war; 450
I tremble now to meet his eye--
Say, Selim, canst thou tell me why? "

XIV.

"Zuleika--to thy tower's retreat
Betake thee--Giaffir I can greet:
And now with him I fain must prate
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 warned the troops to food and sleep,
Unto thy cell with Selim come;
Then softly from the Haram creep
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. "

"Fear thee, my Selim! ne'er till now
Did words like this----"

"Delay not thou;[gd]
I keep the key--and Haroun's guard
Have _some_, and hope of _more_ reward.
To-night, Zuleika, thou shalt hear 480
My tale, my purpose, and my fear:
I am not, love! what I appear. "



CANTO THE SECOND. [ge]

I.

The winds are high on Helle's wave,
As on that night of stormy water
When Love, who sent, forgot to save
The young--the beautiful--the brave--
The lonely hope of Sestos' daughter.
Oh! when alone along the sky
Her turret-torch was blazing high,
Though rising gale, and breaking foam, 490
And shrieking sea-birds warned him home;
And clouds aloft and tides below,
With signs and sounds, forbade to go,
He could not see, he would not hear,
Or sound or sign foreboding fear;
His eye but saw that light of Love,
The only star it hailed above;
His ear but rang with Hero's song,
"Ye waves, divide not lovers long! "--
That tale is old, but Love anew[152] 500
May nerve young hearts to prove as true.

II.

The winds are high and Helle's tide
Rolls darkly heaving to the main;
And Night's descending shadows hide
That field with blood bedewed in vain,
The desert of old Priam's pride;
The tombs, sole relics of his reign,
All--save immortal dreams that could beguile
The blind old man of Scio's rocky isle!

III.

Oh! yet--for there my steps have been; 510
These feet have pressed the sacred shore,
These limbs that buoyant wave hath borne--
Minstrel! with thee to muse, to mourn,
To trace again those fields of yore,
Believing every hillock green
Contains no fabled hero's ashes,
And that around the undoubted scene
Thine own "broad Hellespont"[153] still dashes,
Be long my lot! and cold were he
Who there could gaze denying thee! 520

IV.

The Night hath closed on Helle's stream,
Nor yet hath risen on Ida's hill
That Moon, which shone on his high theme:
No warrior chides her peaceful beam,
But conscious shepherds bless it still.
Their flocks are grazing on the Mound
Of him who felt the Dardan's arrow:
That mighty heap of gathered ground
Which Ammon's son ran proudly round,[154]
By nations raised, by monarchs crowned, 530
Is now a lone and nameless barrow!
Within--thy dwelling-place how narrow! [155]
Without--can only strangers breathe
The name of him that _was_ beneath:
Dust long outlasts the storied stone;
But Thou--thy very dust is gone!

V.

Late, late to-night will Dian cheer
The swain, and chase the boatman's fear;
Till then--no beacon on the cliff
May shape the course of struggling skiff; 540
The scattered lights that skirt the bay,
All, one by one, have died away;
The only lamp of this lone hour
Is glimmering in Zuleika's tower.
Yes! there is light in that lone chamber,
And o'er her silken ottoman
Are thrown the fragrant beads of amber,
O'er which her fairy fingers ran;[156]
Near these, with emerald rays beset,[157]
(How could she thus that gem forget? ) 550
Her mother's sainted amulet,[158]
Whereon engraved the Koorsee text,
Could smooth this life, and win the next;
And by her Comboloio[159] lies
A Koran of illumined dyes;
And many a bright emblazoned rhyme
By Persian scribes redeemed from Time;
And o'er those scrolls, not oft so mute,
Reclines her now neglected lute;
And round her lamp of fretted gold 560
Bloom flowers in urns of China's mould;
The richest work of Iran's loom,
And Sheeraz[160] tribute of perfume;

All that can eye or sense delight
Are gathered in that gorgeous room:
But yet it hath an air of gloom.
She, of this Peri cell the sprite,
What doth she hence, and on so rude a night?

VI.

Wrapt in the darkest sable vest,
Which none save noblest Moslem wear, 570
To guard from winds of Heaven the breast
As Heaven itself to Selim dear,
With cautious steps the thicket threading,
And starting oft, as through the glade
The gust its hollow moanings made,
Till on the smoother pathway treading,
More free her timid bosom beat,
The maid pursued her silent guide;
And though her terror urged retreat,
How could she quit her Selim's side? 580
How teach her tender lips to chide?

VII.

They reached at length a grotto, hewn
By nature, but enlarged by art,
Where oft her lute she wont to tune,
And oft her Koran conned apart;
And oft in youthful reverie
She dreamed what Paradise might be:
Where Woman's parted soul shall go
Her Prophet had disdained to show;[gf][161]
But Selim's mansion was secure, 590
Nor deemed she, could he long endure
His bower in other worlds of bliss
Without _her_, most beloved in this!
Oh! who so dear with him could dwell?
What Houri soothe him half so well?

VIII.

Since last she visited the spot
Some change seemed wrought within the grot:
It might be only that the night
Disguised things seen by better light:
That brazen lamp but dimly threw 600
A ray of no celestial hue;
But in a nook within the cell
Her eye on stranger objects fell.
There arms were piled, not such as wield
The turbaned Delis in the field;
But brands of foreign blade and hilt,
And one was red--perchance with guilt! [gg]
Ah! how without can blood be spilt?
A cup too on the board was set
That did not seem to hold sherbet. 610
What may this mean? she turned to see
Her Selim--"Oh! can this be he? "[gh]

IX.

His robe of pride was thrown aside,
His brow no high-crowned turban bore,
But in its stead a shawl of red,
Wreathed lightly round, his temples wore:
That dagger, on whose hilt the gem
Were worthy of a diadem,
No longer glittered at his waist,
Where pistols unadorned were braced; 620
And from his belt a sabre swung,
And from his shoulder loosely hung
The cloak of white, the thin capote
That decks the wandering Candiote;
Beneath--his golden plated vest
Clung like a cuirass to his breast;
The greaves below his knee that wound
With silvery scales were sheathed and bound.
But were it not that high command
Spake in his eye, and tone, and hand, 630
All that a careless eye could see
In him was some young Galiongee. [162]

X.

"I said I was not what I seemed;
And now thou see'st my words were true:
I have a tale thou hast not dreamed,
If sooth--its truth must others rue.
My story now 'twere vain to hide,
I must not see thee Osman's bride:
But had not thine own lips declared
How much of that young heart I shared, 640
I could not, must not, yet have shown
The darker secret of my own.
In this I speak not now of love;
That--let Time--Truth--and Peril prove:
But first--Oh! never wed another--
Zuleika! I am not thy brother! "

XI.

"Oh! not my brother! --yet unsay--
God! am I left alone on earth
To mourn--I dare not curse--the day[gi]
That saw my solitary birth? 650
Oh! thou wilt love me now no more!
My sinking heart foreboded ill;
But know _me_ all I was before,
Thy sister--friend--Zuleika still.
Thou led'st me here perchance to kill;
If thou hast cause for vengeance, see!
My breast is offered--take thy fill!
Far better with the dead to be
Than live thus nothing now to thee:
Perhaps far worse, for now I know 660
Why Giaffir always seemed thy foe;
And I, alas! am Giaffir's child,
For whom thou wert contemned, reviled.
If not thy sister--would'st thou save
My life--Oh! bid me be thy slave! "

XII.

"My slave, Zuleika! --nay, I'm thine:
But, gentle love, this transport calm,
Thy lot shall yet be linked with mine;
I swear it by our Prophet's shrine,[gj]
And be that thought thy sorrow's balm. 670
So may the Koran[163] verse displayed
Upon its steel direct my blade,
In danger's hour to guard us both,
As I preserve that awful oath!
The name in which thy heart hath prided
Must change; but, my Zuleika, know,
That tie is widened, not divided,
Although thy Sire's my deadliest foe.
My father was to Giaffir all
That Selim late was deemed to thee; 680
That brother wrought a brother's fall,
But spared, at least, my infancy!
And lulled me with a vain deceit
That yet a like return may meet.
He reared me, not with tender help,
But like the nephew of a Cain;[164]
He watched me like a lion's whelp,
That gnaws and yet may break his chain.
My father's blood in every vein
Is boiling! but for thy dear sake 690
No present vengeance will I take;
Though here I must no more remain.
But first, beloved Zuleika! hear
How Giaffir wrought this deed of fear.

XIII.

"How first their strife to rancour grew,
If Love or Envy made them foes,
It matters little if I knew;
In fiery spirits, slights, though few
And thoughtless, will disturb repose.
In war Abdallah's arm was strong, 700
Remembered yet in Bosniac song,[165]
And Paswan's[166] rebel hordes attest
How little love they bore such guest:
His death is all I need relate,
The stern effect of Giaffir's hate;
And how my birth disclosed to me,[gk]
Whate'er beside it makes, hath made me free.

XIV.

"When Paswan, after years of strife,
At last for power, but first for life,
In Widdin's walls too proudly sate, 710
Our Pachas rallied round the state;
Not last nor least in high command,
Each brother led a separate band;
They gave their Horse-tails[167] to the wind,
And mustering in Sophia's plain
Their tents were pitched, their post assigned;
To one, alas! assigned in vain!
What need of words? the deadly bowl,
By Giaffir's order drugged and given,
With venom subtle as his soul,[gl]
Dismissed Abdallah's hence to heaven. 720
Reclined and feverish in the bath,
He, when the hunter's sport was up,
But little deemed a brother's wrath
To quench his thirst had such a cup:
The bowl a bribed attendant bore;
He drank one draught,[168] nor needed more!
If thou my tale, Zuleika, doubt,
Call Haroun--he can tell it out.

XV.

"The deed once done, and Paswan's feud 730
In part suppressed, though ne'er subdued,
Abdallah's Pachalick was gained:--
Thou know'st not what in our Divan
Can wealth procure for worse than man--
Abdallah's honours were obtained
By him a brother's murder stained;
'Tis true, the purchase nearly drained
His ill-got treasure, soon replaced.
Would'st question whence? Survey the waste,
And ask the squalid peasant how 740
His gains repay his broiling brow! --
Why me the stern Usurper spared,
Why thus with me his palace spared,
I know not. Shame--regret--remorse--
And little fear from infant's force--
Besides, adoption as a son
By him whom Heaven accorded none,
Or some unknown cabal, caprice,
Preserved me thus:--but not in peace:
He cannot curb his haughty mood,[gm] 750
Nor I forgive a father's blood.

XVI.

"Within thy Father's house are foes;
Not all who break his bread are true:
To these should I my birth disclose,
His days-his very hours were few:
They only want a heart to lead,
A hand to point them to the deed.
But Haroun only knows, or knew
This tale, whose close is almost nigh:
He in Abdallah's palace grew, 760
And held that post in his Serai
Which holds he here--he saw him die;
But what could single slavery do?
Avenge his lord? alas! too late;
Or save his son from such a fate?
He chose the last, and when elate
With foes subdued, or friends betrayed,
Proud Giaffir in high triumph sate,
He led me helpless to his gate,
And not in vain it seems essayed 770
To save the life for which he prayed.
The knowledge of my birth secured
From all and each, but most from me;
Thus Giaffir's safety was ensured.
Removed he too from Roumelie
To this our Asiatic side,
Far from our seats by Danube's tide,
With none but Haroun, who retains
Such knowledge--and that Nubian feels
A Tyrant's secrets are but chains, 780
From which the captive gladly steals,
And this and more to me reveals:
Such still to guilt just Allah sends--
Slaves, tools, accomplices--no friends!

XVII.

"All this, Zuleika, harshly sounds;
But harsher still my tale must be:
Howe'er my tongue thy softness wounds,
Yet I must prove all truth to thee. "[gn]
I saw thee start this garb to see,
Yet is it one I oft have worn, 790
And long must wear: this Galiongee,
To whom thy plighted vow is sworn,
Is leader of those pirate hordes,
Whose laws and lives are on their swords;
To hear whose desolating tale
Would make thy waning cheek more pale:
Those arms thou see'st my band have brought,
The hands that wield are not remote;
This cup too for the rugged knaves
Is filled--once quaffed, they ne'er repine: 800
Our Prophet might forgive the slaves;
They're only infidels in wine.

XVIII.

"What could I be? Proscribed at home,
And taunted to a wish to roam;
And listless left--for Giaffir's fear
Denied the courser and the spear--
Though oft--Oh, Mahomet! how oft! --
In full Divan the despot scoffed,
As if _my_ weak unwilling hand
Refused the bridle or the brand: 810
He ever went to war alone,
And pent me here untried--unknown;
To Haroun's care with women left,[go]
By hope unblest, of fame bereft,
While thou--whose softness long endeared,
Though it unmanned me, still had cheered--
To Brusa's walls for safety sent,
Awaited'st there the field's event.
Haroun who saw my spirit pining[gp]
Beneath inaction's sluggish yoke, 820
His captive, though with dread resigning,
My thraldom for a season broke,
On promise to return before
The day when Giaffir's charge was o'er.
'Tis vain--my tongue can not impart[gq]
My almost drunkenness of heart,[169]
When first this liberated eye
Surveyed Earth--Ocean--Sun--and Sky--
As if my Spirit pierced them through,
And all their inmost wonders knew! 830
One word alone can paint to thee
That more than feeling--I was Free!
E'en for thy presence ceased to pine;
The World--nay, Heaven itself was mine!

XIX.

"The shallop of a trusty Moor
Conveyed me from this idle shore;
I longed to see the isles that gem
Old Ocean's purple diadem:
I sought by turns, and saw them all;[170]
But when and where I joined the crew, 840
With whom I'm pledged to rise or fall,
When all that we design to do
Is done,'twill then be time more meet
To tell thee, when the tale's complete.

XX.

"'Tis true, they are a lawless brood,
But rough in form, nor mild in mood;
And every creed, and every race,
With them hath found--may find a place:
But open speech, and ready hand,
Obedience to their Chief's command; 850
A soul for every enterprise,
That never sees with Terror's eyes;
Friendship for each, and faith to all,
And vengeance vowed for those who fall,
Have made them fitting instruments
For more than e'en my own intents.
And some--and I have studied all
Distinguished from the vulgar rank,
But chiefly to my council call
The wisdom of the cautious Frank:-- 860
And some to higher thoughts aspire.
The last of Lambro's[171] patriots there
Anticipated freedom share;
And oft around the cavern fire
On visionary schemes debate,
To snatch the Rayahs[172] from their fate.
So let them ease their hearts with prate
Of equal rights, which man ne'er knew;
I have a love for freedom too.
Aye! let me like the ocean-Patriarch[173] roam, 870
Or only know on land the Tartar's home! [174]
My tent on shore, my galley on the sea,
Are more than cities and Serais to me:[175]
Borne by my steed, or wafted by my sail,
Across the desert, or before the gale,
Bound where thou wilt, my barb! or glide, my prow!
But be the Star that guides the wanderer, Thou!
Thou, my Zuleika, share and bless my bark;
The Dove of peace and promise to mine ark! [176]
Or, since that hope denied in worlds of strife, 880
Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life!
The evening beam that smiles the clouds away,
And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray! [177]
Blest--as the Muezzin's strain from Mecca's wall
To pilgrims pure and prostrate at his call;
Soft--as the melody of youthful days,
That steals the trembling tear of speechless praise;
Dear--as his native song to Exile's ears,[gr]
Shall sound each tone thy long-loved voice endears.
For thee in those bright isles is built a bower 890
Blooming as Aden[178] in its earliest hour.
A thousand swords, with Selim's heart and hand,
Wait--wave--defend--destroy--at thy command! [gs]
Girt by my band, Zuleika at my side,
The spoil of nations shall bedeck my bride.
The Haram's languid years of listless ease
Are well resigned for cares--for joys like these:
Not blind to Fate, I see, where'er I rove,
Unnumbered perils,--but one only love!
Yet well my toils shall that fond breast repay, 900
Though Fortune frown, or falser friends betray.
How dear the dream in darkest hours of ill,
Should all be changed, to find thee faithful still!
Be but thy soul, like Selim's firmly shown;
To thee be Selim's tender as thine own;
To soothe each sorrow, share in each delight,[gt]
Blend every thought, do all--but disunite!
Once free, 'tis mine our horde again to guide;
Friends to each other, foes to aught beside:[179]
Yet there we follow but the bent assigned 910
By fatal Nature to man's warring kind:[gu]
Mark! where his carnage and his conquests cease!
He makes a solitude, and calls it--peace! [gv][180]
I like the rest must use my skill or strength,
But ask no land beyond my sabre's length:
Power sways but by division--her resource[gw]
The blest alternative of fraud or force!
Ours be the last; in time Deceit may come
When cities cage us in a social home:
There ev'n thy soul might err--how oft the heart 920
Corruption shakes which Peril could not part!
And Woman, more than Man, when Death or Woe,
Or even Disgrace, would lay her lover low,
Sunk in the lap of Luxury will shame--
Away suspicion! --_not_ Zuleika's name!
But life is hazard at the best; and here
No more remains to win, and much to fear:
Yes, fear! --the doubt, the dread of losing thee,
By Osman's power, and Giaffir's stern decree.
That dread shall vanish with the favouring gale, 930
Which Love to-night hath promised to my sail:[gx]
No danger daunts the pair his smile hath blest,
Their steps still roving, but their hearts at rest.
With thee all toils are sweet, each clime hath charms;
Earth--sea alike--our world within our arms!
Aye--let the loud winds whistle o'er the deck,[181]
So that those arms cling closer round my neck:
The deepest murmur of this lip shall be,[gy][182]
No sigh for safety, but a prayer for thee!
The war of elements no fears impart 940
To Love, whose deadliest bane is human Art:
_There_ lie the only rocks our course can check;
_Here_ moments menace--_there_ are years of wreck!