Whate'er her sins, to him a guardian-saint, | Thou hast forgot is this a garb for paint ; Yet changed since last within that cell she came, More pale her cheek, more tremulous her frame: "Misdoubting Corsair! I have gain'd the guard, On him she cast her dark and hurried eye, | Ripe for revolt, and greedy for reward. Which spoke before her accents-“thou | A single word of mine removes that chain: Without some aid how here could I remain? Well, since we met, hath sped my busy must die! Yes, thou must die-there is but one re "Lady! I look to none - my lips proclaim That hated tyrant, Conrad--he must bleed! What last proclaim'd they Conrad still I see thee shudder-but my soul is changedWrong'd—spurn'd—reviled—and it shall be avenged the same: Why shouldst thou seek an outlaw's life to spare, And change the sentence I deserve to bear? Well have I earn'd-nor here alone the meed Of Seyd's revenge by many a lawless deed." Accused of what till now my heart disdain'd Too faithful, though to bitter bondage chain'd. Yes, smile! -- but he had little cause to sneer, I was not treacherous then-nor thou too dear: But he has said it and the jealous well, Those tyrants, teasing, tempting to rebel, Deserve the fate their fretting lips foretell. I never loved he bought me somewhat high Since with me came a heart he could not buy. I was a slave unmurmuring; he hath said, But for his rescue I with thee had fled. "Twas false thou knowst-but let such augurs rue, Their words are omens Insult renders true. Nor was thy respite granted to my prayer; This fleeting grace was only to prepare New torments for thy life, and my despair. Mine too he threatens; but his dotago still Would fain reserve me for his lordly will: When wearier of these fleeting charms and me, There yawns the sack-and yonder rolls the sea! What, am I then a toy for dotard's play, If but to show how grateful is a slave. But had he not thus menaced fame and life, (And well he keeps his oaths pronounced in strife) I still had saved thee-but the Pacha spared. Now I am all thine own-for all prepared: Thon lov'st me not-nor knowst- or but the worst. Alas! this love-that hatred are the first Oh! couldst thou prove my truth, thou wouldst not start, Nor fear the fire that lights an Eastern heart; 'Tis now the beacon of thy safety- now It points within the port a Mainote prow: 98 But in one chamber, where our path must | From a lone chamber struck upon his sight. lead, There sleeps he must not wake-the oppressor Seyd!" "Gulnare - Gulnare--I never felt till now My abject fortune, wither'd fame so low: Seyd is mine enemy: had swept my band From earth with ruthless but with open hand, And therefore came I, in my bark of war, life. Towards it he moved, a scarcely closing door No poniard in that hand-nor sign of ill That nearly veil'd her face and bosom fair: forgotHer hurrying hand had left-'twas but a spotIts hue was all he saw, and scarce withstood "Rest! Rest! by sunrise must thy sinews Oh! slight but certain pledge of crime — shake, And thy limbs writhe around the ready stake. years, I'll try the firmness of a female hand. were o'er all 'tis blood! He had been tempted-chasten'd-and the Yet on his arms might ever there remain : Had banish'd all the beauty from her cheek! Corsair! we meet in safety or no more; She turn'd,and vanish'd ere he could reply, But his glance follow'd far with eager eye; And gathering, as he could, the links that bound His form, to curl their length, and curb their sound, Since bar and bolt no more his steps pre- He, fast as fetter'd limbs allow, pursued. That passage led; nor lamp nor guard to bear Yet scarcely heeded these—another light ""Tis done-he nearly waked—but it is Reveals the secret passage to the shore; And Conrad following, at her beck, obey'd, breeze blew Command nor duty could their transport check! With light alacrity and gaze of pride, They view him mount once more his vossel's side; Embark'd, the sail unfurl'd, the light How much had Conrad's memory to review! Sunk he in contemplation, till the cape Where last he anchor'd rear'd its giant-Their arms can scarce forbear a rough A smile relaxing in each rugged face, shape. Ah!—since that fatal night, though brief the time, Had swept an age of terror, grief, and crime. Still onward, fair the breeze, nor rough the surge, The blue waves sport around the stern they urge; Far on the horizon's verge appears a speck, A spot-a mast-a sail-an armed deck! Their little bark her men of watch descry, And ampler canvas woos the wind from high; She bears her down majestically near, Speed on her prow, and terror in her tier; A flash is seen-the ball beyond their bow Booms harmless, hissing to the deep below. Up rose keen Conrad from his silent trance, embrace. He, half forgetting danger and defeat, Yet grieve to win him back without a blow; They sail'd prepared for vengeance-- had they known A woman's hand secured that deed her own, She were their queen-less scrupulous are way. they Than haughty Conrad how they win their With many an asking smile, and wondering stare, They whisper rouud, and gaze upon Gulnare; And her, at once above-beneath her sex, Whom blood appall'd not, their regards perplex. To Conrad turns her faint imploring eye, Her arms are meekly folded on that breast, She drops her veil, and stands in silence by ; Which-Conrad safe-to fate resign'd the rest. Though worse than phrensy could that bosom fill, Extreme in love or hate, in good or ill, The worst of crimes had left her woman still! This Conrad mark'd, and felt - ah! could he less? Hate of that deed- but grief for her distress; What she has done no tears can wash away, And Heaven must punish on its angry day: But-it was done: he knew, whate'er her guilt, For him that poniard smote, that blood was spilt; And he was free!— and she for him had given Her all on earth, and more than all in heaven! And now he turn'd him to that dark-eyed slave Whose brow was bow'd beneath the glance he gave, Who now seem'd changed and humbled:fain and meek, 100 own Had lost its firmness, and his voice its tone. She raised her eye - her only answer there – this, The first, the last that Frailty stole from To lips where Love had lavish'd all his To lips-whose broken sighs such fragrance fling, As he had fann'd them freshly with his wing! The lights are high on beacon and from Amid so many, hers alone is dark. And looks impatient on the lingering oar. Another chequers o'er the shadow'd floor; He turn'd not-spoke not-sunk not-fix'd And set the anxious frame that lately shook : And the cold flowers her colder hand con- In that last grasp as tenderly were strain'd And veil'd-thought shrinks from all that Oh! o'er the eye death most exerts his might, And hurls the spirit from her throne of light! Sinks those blue orbs in that long last eclipse, Yet, yet they seem as they forbore to smile, Long-fair but spread in utter lifelessness, |