THE 
 
 CROSS, AND THE CRESCENT ; 
 
 AN 
 
 HEROIC, METRICAL. 
 
 
 i&omawc. 
 
 PARTIALLY FOUNDED ON MADAME COTTIN's u MATHILDE 
 
 BY 
 
 THE REV. JAMES BERESFORD, A.M. 
 
 RECTOR OF KIBWORTH, 
 
 LEICESTERSHIRE J 
 LATE FELLOW OF MERTON COLLEGE, OXFORD. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR 
 
 J. HATCHARD AND SON, N° 187, PICCADILLY. 
 
 MDCCCXXIV. 
 
y> 
 
 PRINTED BY J. BRETTELL, RUPERT STREET, HAYMARKET, 
 LONDON. 
 
ERRATA. 
 
 Page 61, line 3, for around, read round. 
 
 104, 6 from bottom, for reekless, read reckless. 
 
 — — 108, 5, after realm, add, to realm. 
 
 — — 108, 5 from bottom, for clapping, read capping. 
 
 198, 2, after Lord, put a : instead of , . . 
 
 288, last but one, for tender, read trembler. 
 
 318, 6 from bottom, for truth, read trust. 
 
 — — 330, 13, after encount'ring, add - - knew, 
 
 367, 4, dele full stop after Heav'n. 
 
 373, 9 from bottom, put inverted commas after old 
 
 - 374, 6 from bottom, for bur, read but. 
 
 — — 379, — — 10, for once, read last. 
 
THE CROSS, 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CRESCENT. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 THE CONVENT. ,-THE TEMPEST. 
 
 THE CONVENT. 
 
 O for the golden Times when Love was young, 
 Ere Covetise, and Pride, and wild Desires, 
 Dar'd, yet, to kindle their unholy fires, 
 
 Or shameless Bards the profanation sung ! 
 
 Then, on the Hero's heart, of lion-mould, 
 Did Vestal-Beauty wage victorious war ; 
 While Chivalry, his trumpet sounding far, 
 
 Broke the long slumber of the Bold. 
 
 Brought by the stirring blast from evVy Land, 
 
 Honour, and mounting Courage, lance in hand, 
 
 B 
 
» THE CONVENT. hook I 
 
 And Loyalty, . . to L&dy, and to King, . . 
 
 And hallowed Zeal, that recks not earthly thing, 
 
 Swelling to big intent, and Godlike deed, 
 
 Made many a Giant-Monster bleed : — 
 
 So shadows old Roniaunce what Prowess won. 
 Then joy'd the Virgin, as her Champion's blow 
 Laid Felon-Rape, and iron Murder, low ; 
 The Victim, from his dungeon, blest the sword, 
 Which, at the bidding of its mighty Lord, 
 Wrought through his darksome walls a passage for the Sun. 
 
 Valour, and Virtue, wheresoe'er ye shine, 
 
 (Your glories are my theme,) on You I call f — 
 Possess me whole ! - - nor let my Spirit fall, 
 
 Whilst I am bold to sing that War Divine 
 
 Fought by the Cross, of yore, on Saladine; 
 
 Whose unbaptized Crest, in early field 
 
 Perchance had bow'd : — -but one yet mightier Name, - - 
 Brother in blood, and arms, and soaring Fame, - - 
 
 Stood for the Crescent — stood, both Sword, and Shield ; — 
 
 Hadel ; — the storm in whose heroic soul, 
 By Love and Honour torn, shall through my numbers roll. 
 
 
book i. THE CONVENT. 
 
 When Time was full; that consecrated Town 
 Which had, through Ages, groan'd in servitude 
 To Pagan Domination fierce and rude, - - 
 
 Jerusalem, - -regain'd her glorious crown ; 
 
 Thy hand, Godfredo ! swept th' Invaders down.^- 
 
 Again the Sarazen prevail'd. — Again, 
 Roused by the voice of Christian woe, 
 Europe, for one collective blow, 
 
 Pours all her Nations to the Syrian plain : — - 
 
 u Avenge, avenge my Children slain ! 
 Be Zion wrested from the Godless Foe f ' 
 
 II. 
 
 Her mighty Mandate shook the World, . . . 
 And, evVy banner flew unfurPd : — 
 From breast to breast, . . from Clan to Clan, 
 At once the catching Spirit ran : — 
 E'en those whom weakness, or decay, 
 In hated safety doom'd to stay, - - 
 Childhood, and Sex, and backward Age, - - 
 Lent all their breath to swell the sacred rage. 
 
 
* THE CONVENT. book i. 
 
 III. 
 
 Of Chiefs that burn to strike the Foe, 
 
 And seem to scorn the ground below, 
 
 What rival Souls expand the proudest wing ?— 
 
 Philip Augustus, . . Gallia's potent King ; 
 
 With Richard Coeur-de-Lion, . . Briton's Boast 
 
 Each, in himself, a warring Host. — 
 These to encounter as they came, 
 One, far unlike his Hordes, of barb'rous name, 
 Great Saladine, arose ; with Hadel Prince of Fame ! 
 
 In Gisors' walls, amid the Norman Land, 
 
 Yon Christian Leaders meeting, frame the War, 
 
 And make the pious Fury regular 
 By skilPd appliance of the master-hand. — 
 Both Chieftains, on the battle-field, 
 
 Conn'd ev'ry art that wins the Victor's crown ; 
 
 Though mightier, one, to fell the foremost down, . . . 
 Still unconceiving how to yield.— 
 Whate'er exalting praise, beside, 
 To martial, or to civic, worth allied, 
 
 My Muse records, . . let Richard fill the scroll — 
 Richard, - - magnanimous, keen, bold, sincere — 
 Of all things hateful, most contemning fear — 
 Most wroth, when base, insidious craft is near— 
 
 To what is vast, or high, devoted whole. 
 
koox W THE CONVENT. 
 
 And ever, as he sought to gild the throne 
 
 Held as from Heav'n, with lustre all his own, 
 Quick to the visage from the heart 
 Would Honour's warming current start — 
 Honour . . . erect Ambition's nobler part, — 
 
 Nor stirr'd he step, till her decree was known ; 
 
 Then, fiercer than the Sun, if hindrance rose- 
 Not oft, like him, at eve, descending in repose. 
 
 If aught befal, eclipsing such renown, 
 
 Proud, rigid, unrelenting, be the deed, 
 Fain would the hand that weaves his crown 
 Refuse to mark the blameful trespass down ; — 
 But Truth commands with solemn frown - - 
 And Envy must, anon, her craving vipers feed. 
 
 VI 
 
 Now glows the Work : — To rivet Zeal, 
 And animate the vengeful steel, 
 Religion rouses from her cells, 
 Where each in holy silence dwells, 
 Priest, and Eremite, and Friar : — 
 They flock, to bless the Cause, and fan the fire.- 
 
6 THE CONVENT. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 Surpassing all, for ardour, and for powV, — 
 In Time's decay, though in Devotion's nWr,- — 
 
 The Hierarch of Tyre exerts command : — 
 Where'er the mitred Sanctity appears, 
 Behold ! a bending Crowd reveres 
 The manna from his lips, - - the beck'riings of his hand ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 Meekness had made his bosom her abode ; 
 
 Sweet Peace had dropped her blessings where he trode ; 
 
 The voice of strife was discord in his ear : — 
 But, God insulted, — Palestine in chains,— 
 The trampled grave of Him who bare our pains,— 
 
 Drove him to sanctify the sword and spear. 
 " Wilhelm of Tyre !" the kindling Votnes cry — 
 " 'Tis Wilhelm calls to arms, . . to Victory P' 
 
 O ye who proudly boast a purer fire, 
 
 And milder deeds, than warring Saints inspire, 
 
 'Twere well ye knew, cold Censors of your Kind ! 
 That living flame of zeal, which thaws the frosty mind. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 While thus Religion breathes her prosp'ring vow, 
 Each fervid King beams glory from his brow.— 
 But, peace awhile ! — Ere yet begin the Scene, 
 An idle pause must hang between : — 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 THE CONVENT. 7 : 
 
 Left on the Norman shore alone, 
 
 Philip remains to curb th' impatient Host ; 
 While Richard, - - prizing at a kingdom's cost 
 
 Each moment, --to his Island-Realm is flown, 
 
 There, on a Brother's brow to trust his crown. 
 
 Soon shall, again, the Heroes meet — 
 
 Messina's Walls the destinated seat. / ..„.," 
 
 r 
 
 IX. 
 
 Shot like a Meteor o'er the Main, 
 Richard, with Tyre's high Pontiff in his train, 
 Hath touch'd his England's billow-beaten shore. . 
 No rest, no stay, the flaming Spirit bore, 
 Till he had hail'd his royal Seat once more, 
 
 X. 
 
 His realm confided, still one cordial care 
 
 Detains him.— In a Convent's lonely cells, 
 Unseen from Childhood's hour, a Sister dwells, . . . 
 Taintless as Angels are — as Angels fair. 
 
 Unknowing Wickedness, and War, and Man, 
 And this wild world, with all its luring spells, 
 She heard the Voice which bade that World " Prepare," 
 Rapt from regard how days and seasons ran. — 
 Lost, with her Sisterhood of musing Maids, 
 In sloist'ral avenues, or pensive shades, 
 Where noiseless Meditation still began, - - 
 
8. THE CONVENT. 
 
 BOOK I* 
 
 Apart, or with yon vestal-choir, 
 
 She rais'd her soul from earthly, low desire ; 
 
 Still constant, at the chimed hour's return, 
 
 Was found at kneeling pray'r, and rising praise, 
 To Him, whose hand Creation's weal upstays: 
 
 What aspirations on her lips would burn, 
 
 While, . . as a guilty World provok'd His frown, . . 
 
 She strove, with heav'n-ward eye, to draw forgiveness down! 
 
 • 
 
 XL 
 
 This Paragon of Virgins once to greet, 
 
 Ere to the waiting Standard yet he fly, 
 Hath Richard spurr'd his courser fleet, 
 
 Lest Fate the coveted embrace deny, 
 Wilhelm, . . longtime her watchful Guardian good, . » 
 
 Far-pointing to her hallow'd home, 
 
 Slow follow'd on, as languid Age demands. — 
 Before yon glooming Gates the Hero stood; 
 
 Then, first, they shook beneath a Soldier's hands; — 
 
 Th' unwonted thunders fright the death-like Dome! 
 
 XII. 
 
 Admitted, . . to Matilda's arms he sprang : — 
 She, while he spoke his joy, with speechless hold 
 Clung to a Brother's breast; — ere yet he told 
 
 That melting name, her heart of Richard sang: 
 " Breathes not another with a port so bold !" — 
 
book c. THE CONVENT. 
 
 Then, wilder'd with amaze, . . with love, . . with fears, 
 
 In restless tumult strange 
 
 Whirling her thoughts from change to change, 
 
 She sank, dissolv'd in helpless tears. 
 
 XIIL 
 
 The Chief, in Pity's tend'rest mood, 
 
 Wav'd the surrounding Sisters to her aid:— 
 
 In vain! — All motionless they stood, 
 
 Till kindly Nature rais'd the vanquish'd Maid.— 
 
 Though foot profane ne'er past before 
 
 The grates of that forbidden Door, 
 
 That lock'd within its awful bound 
 
 Religious breathings, pure, profound ! . . 
 
 Bliss of mortal Spirits refin'd, . . 
 
 The rich, deep, music of the mind ! — 
 
 Yet, from that grave delirium shook, 
 
 All, now, forgot the governed look, , . 
 
 Ne'er fix'd but on Devotion's Book,-— 
 
 To each unknown what earthly mood 
 
 Upsent in haste the glowing blood, 
 
 That, now, its modest curtain through, 
 
 Betrays the lighted cheek to view. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 His high-built Structure, broad, and grand, — 
 His arm, . . a sceptre of command, — 
 
10 THE CONVENT. . 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 The sword that, ringing at his side, 
 Still to each vivid start replied, — 
 Those plumes that, to his nod resigned, 
 Bound with the boundings of his mind, — 
 An eye, . . as kindled thought inspires, . . 
 Flashing, alive, intenser fires, — 
 A brow, . . as, there, and there alone, 
 Dominion triumphed on his throne,— 
 Yea, Richard, sudden in full blaze confest, 
 'Mid Vestals, hush'd in the still shades of rest, — 
 Invaded with such wild surprize 
 Their yielding fantasies, — their guardless eyes,— 
 That each, though Angels warnti away, 
 Must, in that form, portentous Man survey :— • 
 So bursts upon the Blind th* overwhelming Gift of Day ! 
 
 XV. 
 
 Of all, alone stood firm, and self-sustain'd, 
 
 The rev'rend Woman that o'erwatch'd the rest.-^ 
 Long rais'tt from Earth, and earthly gaudes unblest, 
 
 The frown of King, or Hero, she disdain'd*— 
 Her worship fiVd on One --- First, HoEest, Best 
 
 On, towVd the Prince, with order'd steps, and slow, 
 Aspect sedate, and spirit all-serene, 
 The Matron mov'd, — and .. what th"* intent unseen 
 
 Of that imperial Frcscnce, crav'd to know.— 
 
1JOOK f. 
 
 THE CONVENT. II 
 
 More had she added— but the fervent Chief 
 Preventive spake, with gracious homage brief: — 
 
 " Lady ! A Brother's warrant brought me hither ; — ■; 
 A Warrior's ardor, in our Christian Quarrel 
 Wings me a way.-r— Religion's War demands 
 The blessings of the Holy; — grant me thine! — 
 The Cross is on my breast^— adore it there, - - 
 And wring consent from Heav'n, that ere the Moon 
 Thrice fill her circle, yon blaspheming Crew, 
 Whose feet unsanctify the soil that bore 
 Our God incarnate, . . in His Battle die !"— -" 
 He ceas'd ; — when all before the sacred sign 
 
 Dropp'd on their humble knees, and blest the Cause. - 
 Each prays for conquest, in that Name divine, 
 With ev'ry look she lifts, — in evVy breath she draws. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Amid such rites, - - apart from all the rest, 
 One seem'u 1 with a celestial flame to glow ;— ' 
 TImse felt the zeal that sober Nuns may know :— 
 Far other motions heave Matilda? § breast i— 
 Absorb'd she sate, . . nor utter'd vocal sound, 
 Nor mov'd, ~ - nor converse heard, - - nor glane'd around, , .: 
 Her eye now grown to earth,— now lost in Heav'n. 
 The soul to stronger agitation wrought, 
 As each new moment laboured with its fraught, — 
 
12 THE CONVENT. book i. 
 
 She far'd like a sea-wave uncertain-driv'n. 
 Longtime, 'twas dizzy rapture undefin'd 
 
 Cloudy astonishment, , . with transient light 
 
 Of images half-seen in vision bright, . . . 
 Or shadowy Hopes, that left their forms behind I 
 
 XVIL 
 
 Victorious in that secret war at last, 
 
 And filled with all her purpose, . . . the high Maid 
 
 Rose from her swelling dream — nor long delay'd, 
 
 But, (some brief space in recollection past,) 
 
 Her mind's o'er-mast'ring impulse full display'd : — 
 
 " O Friends ! . . to me most sacred, or most dear ! 
 
 Thou, guardian Mother ! — Ye, sweet Sisterhood ! 
 
 My Sov'reign-Brother ! — and thou, sainted Sage, 
 Whom, thus in happy time arriv'd, I view ! — 
 Hear with propitious ears, . . . and, if ye may, 
 Indulge with kind accordance the desire 
 That seems (by me unsought,) a ray from Heav'n ! — 
 
 Scarce, mightiest Richard ! from thy lips had flown 
 The words that gave thy Project, ere my soul 
 Burn'd with consuming thirst, beneath thy wing 
 To leave these tranquil Shades, and seek the Land 
 That kiss'd, of yore, my lov'd Redeemer's feet. 
 Happy the Pilgrimage whose rest is there ! 
 And happy be the Maid who longs, as I, 
 
book i. THE CONVENT. 13 
 
 To quit the Covert that hath hous'd her head 
 Prom tender Infancy - - prepaid to brave 
 The rage of Ocean, and (more threat'ning still,) 
 The World's contagion, for a Saviours love I 
 O let the blessed lot be mine, to see 
 Jehovah's conq'ring Armies o'er the crest 
 Of that fal'n Prophet ride, and to the tow'rs 
 Of rescued Salem all-triumphant throng ! — 
 Smile on my hope — or see Matilda smile no more !"— 
 
 XYI1I. 
 
 Scarce had she ceas'd, when ev'ry Christian there, — 
 
 As some supernal Messenger of Grace, 
 
 Ord'ring assent, had beam'd upon the place, — 
 With glad compliance yielded all her pray'r. — 
 Soon tow'rd the Chief yon venerable Dame 
 
 Th* exalted Virgin led. — Upon her tongue 
 
 Maternal accents hung, 
 While to his ear this Adjuration came : — 
 " Monarch ! in thine unconquerable hand 
 I trust this tender flow'r ; — no trivial Charge, 
 Nor of that hand unworthy, . . and, to me, 
 No easy loss : — To this her blowing prime, 
 From the fresh bud, on her have I bestow'd 
 E'en all a Mother's love, ... a Mother's care. 
 God be my Voucher, that with streams from Heav'n 
 
14* THE CONVENT. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 I still have waterM the sweet bloom she bore !— 
 
 The Rose of Sharon, guiltless of a thorn, 
 
 Was made to be her symbol. He who gave 
 
 That rose its fragrance, to thy tutelage 
 
 Consigns her now; and - - mark the warning well - - 
 
 Of thy least negligence, in Danger's hour, 
 
 Shall fail not to require account severe !-— 
 
 Take her, — and as thy precious orbs of sight 
 
 Let her be dear to thee — nor guard those eyes 
 
 More charily, than this our Child of Heav'n V — 
 
 Here, stifling sobs more passionately sue 
 Than choicest words. The Warrior seiz'd the clue : — - 
 " Upon this blade I swear" - - and at the call 
 It lightened in his hand - - " the tented plain 
 Shall yield a shelter to this ' Ghild of Heaven,' 
 Safe as the Sanctuary that walls her here. 
 Expect her home, as now : — What Man shall dare 
 
 In thought approach her Richard is her Shield*— ~ 
 
 That Barrier burst, — be his the welcome Prize T — 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Thus while he spake, . . each movement, word, and look} 
 
 From evVy eye dashM evVy tear; 
 
 Richard they heard, . . they saw; — farewell to Fear! 
 With heart-rejoicing hopes Matilda shook. — 
 Such warmth to temper with Religion's powY, 
 
THE CONVENT. 15 
 
 Wilhelm the Good, ... still fencing her from wrong, 
 
 With solemn signal draws her from the throng. 
 Lock'd, with his Charge, in yon sequestfring towV, 
 He warns, predictive, what a perilous hour 
 
 Impends, . . and arms her with protection strong: — 
 Before th' unweeting Innocent he lays 
 
 The snares of Man, and Woman's easy trust— 
 
 Nor, at the Resurrection of the Just, 
 Shall live that Virgin whom her heart bewrays. 
 He minds her of herself - - - in thought how pure, 
 
 In act how pious, all her moments past: 
 The Child of God must flee from evVy lure 
 
 That courts th"* infirmer soul, . . and 'guiles at last,: 
 The sweets of pleasure, - - pageantries of State, . . 
 Charm for an hour, and shew the sting . . too late I 
 Against each poison of the soul, repair 
 For antidotes to penitence, and pray'r. 
 
 XX. 
 
 With ruminating brow, and closing eyes, 
 
 The Maiden sate, . . in drear despondence pale; 
 Nor might the weak defence of Hope avail 
 
 Against those awful warnings of the Wise. — 
 
 Erewhile, before her ardent fancy rose, 
 
 Bright as the Courts of Heav'n, yon blessed Land, 
 Nor doubt assaiFd, nor danger seenVd at hand; — 
 
16 THE CONVENT. boo 
 
 New, must herself her very self oppose !— 
 Check'd in their lofty flight, her spirits fell; 
 And, while she feared the World's demonian speU, 
 This her sad cry: — " Ye blessings, late so dear! - - 
 Sight of a Saviour's Tomb, . . the Pilgrim's joy ! 
 Anticipated transport, to behold 
 
 The Cross exalted, and the Crescent low ! 
 
 If to such fruits o'er serpents lie my way, 
 Shudd'ring I fly the banquet, — happier far 
 Within this cloister'd Refuge to preserve 
 Unthreaten'd purity, and safe repose, — ■ 
 
 Such, holy Father, in this anxious hour, 
 My best of thoughts: — correct them, or confirm." 
 
 XXI. 
 
 At that sore agony of godly fear 
 
 Deep-mov'd, he points her sinking soul to Heav'n, 
 Where, . . save th' Obdurate, . . all shall stand forgiv'n ; 
 Then, pours rich-flowing comfort on her ear: 
 " Be firm; — from God thy potent call began: 
 
 In Him, thy Guard, in Wilhelm, find thy friend. 
 
 The silken cord of union that so long 
 Hath held us twain together, breaks not here: 
 Where'er good Angels lead my wand'ring Child, 
 O'er land, or ocean, — constant at her side, 
 While life remains, I go. — In all our course, 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 THE CONVENT/ 17 
 
 If hope, dark doubt, or sleep-disturbing care, 
 Before thee rise, — on me repose them all. 
 What counsel, Heaven, or grave experience old, 
 Hath stor'd within this bosom, - - task it still: 
 To fix thee, wav'ring, — or support thee, weak, — 
 Or cheer thee, sad, — my painful path shall ease, 
 And steal me down rejoicing to the grave."— • 
 Such balmy words into her gentle breast 
 
 DistiM their sweetness, and allay'd her fears : 
 Mute was the tongue — yet all was full-confest ; — 
 
 Such eloquence hath Gratitude in tears ! 
 
 XXII. 
 
 So cheer d, he leads her to the loving Band, 
 
 Where Gratulation welcomes her return. 
 
 Again in prospect shines yon Orient-Land, 
 
 And thither-ward, again, her wishes burn. 
 Illustrious Richard caught the kindred flame — 
 Devotion soaring on the wings of Fame! — 
 " Matild ! - - for sudden flight prepare, . . 
 Nor to God's glory be a moment lost ! — 
 Ere glimpse of dawn, I rouse thee. — Take repose; 
 And, in thy dreams, may heavily Visitants 
 Give omen of yon Paradise regainYl f 
 
 c 
 
18 
 
 THE CONVENT. book i. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 'Tis Night, --and to her cell the Maid retires:— 
 And hath she sunk to rest? 
 
 Nay — Slumber binds not with his leaden chain 
 The body, while the fervid Soul aspires 
 
 To liberty, - - and Life through ev'ry vein 
 Runs wild, - - and Hope, her glowing Guest, 
 Shews loftier Destinies, that call to range 
 Where Scenes of holy triumph, great and strange, 
 Rise, like a brighter Morn, with salutation blest! 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Thus, vital Joy sustain'd the wakeful Fair: — 
 
 What marvel? — E'en the World's ignobler Brood, 
 In chace of many an empty name, 
 Laugh Sleep to scorn, . . and seem to thrive on air, 
 While flashes of To-morrow fire the frame:— 
 See the fierce Warrior pile his path of blood 
 
 With Hecatombs to Vengeance, Gold, or Pow'r, — 
 Deeming his brightest hope made good 
 By the brief twilight of terrestrial Fame ! 
 
 He, though his toiling arm from hour to hour 
 Hews on, . . . while at the battle's nightly close, 
 
 He finds no food, and, girt with dangers dire, 
 Thanks the cold ground for all the rest he knows, 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 THE CONVENT. 19 
 
 E'en he, by Thought refresh'd, forgets to tire. 
 What! -- Can the Slave of Earth forbid 
 Repose to light upon his lid, . . 
 And shall the Spirit drowse, when heav'nly hopes inspire? 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The Dawn drew nigh: — But mine are not the strains 
 To speak what tears on that divorcement fell: — 
 
 It seem'd as life scarce lingered in the veins 
 Of those . . now left to droop from cell to cell. 
 
 Yes, — though, in either, each could name a friend, 
 (Such harmony attun'd the gen'ral Breast;) 
 
 In One strong-centred, all affections blend — 
 In sweet Matilda, — Magnet to the rest! 
 
 I pass the long farewell, — the last embrace, — 
 The grief, that e'en Religion spares to blame, — 
 
 Religion, . . pointing to the holier Place, 
 That calTd their Sister in a Saviour's name. 
 
 Less can I sing what rul'd emotions tear 
 Yon venerated Matron, as they part : — 
 
 Hope, Tremor, Counsel, Warning, Love, are there, 
 With Benediction . . . bursting from the heart ! 
 
20 THE CONVENT. book i. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 At that sad crisis, - - armed, at the gate, 
 
 Hot Richard summon , d: — Thunder from on high 
 Had mov'd them less ! — The message in that cry 
 
 Came like the sentence of impending Fate ! — 
 
 Though many a loving word was yet to say, 
 And many a tear came pressing to be shed, - - 
 At once the Virgin fled — 
 Broke from encircling arms, . . and bade them lead the way. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Deluded Maid ! — In her, observe a sign, 
 
 How frail the force, . . . the standing how unsure, . . . 
 Of mortal saints — how languishingly move 
 
 Their swiftest, at the call of Love Divine ! — 
 In her own strength secure, 
 
 She rose, an Eagle, ... to descend, a Dove ! — 
 
 When, late, at Fancy's free command, 
 She viewed the sword of God 
 
 O'er Salem's desecrated Land 
 
 High-waving, . . and saw Richard's nod 
 
 Rule the dread Work, exam pled with his hand, 
 
 Confineless rapture overflow'd the bound 
 
 Of her full breast ; — no harbour then was found 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 THE CONVENT. 21 
 
 For home-bred thoughts, - - nor, soft-relenting, came 
 Sick tenderness tow'rd yonder faithful Band 
 In floods of lamentation drown'd. — 
 
 But Nature quick-reclaim'd her pow'r :— 
 Young Zeal, aspiring to a Martyr's name, 
 In her own furnace will herself destroy ; 
 
 Whilst old Affection, . . frozen for an hour, . . 
 Anon perceives the smother d flame 
 
 Rising anew, . . and weeps with mutual show'r. 
 Yea, very Love can breed annoy : — 
 
 Ah, now, behold her, like a broken flower ! — 
 Too soon that desert-feeling told its name, 
 Which haunts the bosom with departed Joy — 
 
 Too fast, endearing Visions came 
 Of Days . . . whose fond-remember'd light 
 Deepend the darkness of lone Sorrow's night ! 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Ere yet the Car begin to roll, 
 
 Once, - - and once more, - - and once again, she turns; 
 And long her faltring soul 
 
 Sits at the window of her eye, . . and mourns, 
 As taking an eternal leave of rest, 
 O'er ev>y Bird of that bereaved Nest. — 
 
i THE CONVENT. book i. 
 
 No more ! — Upon her dying heart 
 
 Strikes the loud signal to depart ! — - 
 
 Rapid as lightning, the touclVd Coursers fly : — • 
 
 Friends, . . Convent, . . All, . . fade vanish from her eye ! 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Blank, torpid Grief, unprivileg'd to weep, . . 
 Like some thick dream that weighs on sufFring sleep, . . 
 Long held her mute. — At length, recovering slow, 
 She found the spring of tears, - - and livelier woe 
 In struggling syllables began to flow : — 
 
 " Calm Scene of all my fairy childhood past ! - - 
 Asylum, in whose nursing bosom dear 
 I smil'd the hours away, — beyond whose bound 
 I guess'd no joy, nor fostered one desire — - 
 Where Kindness begg^ the heart I gladly gave, 
 And all was Love — where, far as memory shews, 
 These eyes have been familiar with the tear 
 Of deep delight, . . and lear^d from holy lips 
 
 To pay those drops in sacrifice to Heav'n 
 
 I leave thee ! — but, in min d, will leave thee never ! — 
 
 O Thou, whose motions bear me hence away I 
 Grant me to bow my body on the ground 
 Thine earthly Presence glorified — yea, there, 
 To see thy Soldiers vindicate from shame 
 
sooK i. THE CONVENT. 23 
 
 The sacred soil ; — then, to this lov'd Abode, 
 The Shrine of Peace, conduct thy Handmaid home ! — 
 There grew the Blossom; — gather, there, the Flow'r P — 
 Her heart discharg'd, - - the Vestal shook to air 
 
 Each frailer thought, . . and bent up ev'ry powV 
 
 To the high calling of the hour — 
 A Pilgrim's Part, thenceforward, all her care. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Keen-glancing Richard, ... as, with silent eye, 
 He tracked each varying passion o'er the face, 
 And mark'd how Christian Courage won the race, . . 
 Warm-vented, with a gallant grace, 
 
 Pride in the Virgin's royal constancy. 
 
 Nor less the Man of God, her Guardian-friend, 
 Upon his noble Maid 
 SmiFd fatherly approval, as he pray'd 
 
 Such op'ning might have answerable end. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Cheer'd by the praise, — rejoicing in the love, — 
 Nor dreading HeavVs rebuke, while these approve, — 
 She gazes round - - and, once more, distant sees, 
 Half-buried in a grave of solemn trees, 
 Yon Tow'rs : — Now, . . sunk for ever from her sight, . . 
 They leave her but the Shade of past delight. — 
 
24 THE CONVENT. booi 
 
 Turning, to fly those melancholy pains, 
 She. views, before, inhospitable plains : — 
 The Winds, are tyrannizing round, 
 While Desolation, riding in the sound, 
 Afflicts her sight with forests on the ground 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 At last, their travel stayed on a bold Steep — 
 
 Whence, full and sudden, on her eye, and ear, — 
 
 Unheard, unseen, till now, nor fancied near, 
 
 Broke, in tempestuous ire, the monstrous Deep ! — 
 Down sank the Maid, . . . astounding Terror's prey : — 
 She wist that, one time more, a rising God 
 Had calFd the Store of Waters, with his rod, 
 To swell on the green World, and wash Man's Race away !- 
 
 The Prince, and Patriarch, with confed'rate care, 
 Uprais'd her, . . and expell'd the strong Despair. 
 
 Anon, stout Richard the mute Maiden bore 
 Light on his arm, amidst the wild uproar, — 
 Conquer'd the rough descent, and on the marge 
 Of Neptune, posited his dainty Charge. 
 
 Here, Preparation toils from hand to hand :— 
 Let but the Storm repose - - they leave the land. — 
 Scarce, yet, the Winds have trump'd their final blast,-- 
 Ocean still troubling with the ferment past, — 
 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 THE CONVENT. 25 
 
 When tameless Richard mounts with all his Train : — 
 " Away !" — Th' obedient Vessel seeks the Main. — 
 Alas ! ere long, shall many a weary woe, 
 On that ungentle road, Matilda's peace o'erthrow. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 O who that in his manly bosom bears 
 
 A heart that beats for Woman, - - ay, and thrills 
 Responsive to her lightest ills, 
 Here suffers not the Virgin's painful cares ? — 
 She who, till now, saw rarely Nature's face 
 But scatt'ring smiles, or blushing into flowVs, 
 And took such tribute from th 1 Elysian hours 
 As bright-eyed Innocence may joy to trace — 
 She, . . sooth'd, and sanctified, by converse pure - - 
 Whose ear drew rapture, in yon chaste Retreat, 
 From prayV, made melody by voices sweet 
 What, now, did her sunk heart endure ? — 
 What sights, what sounds, with violation rude, 
 Profane, or terrible, subdued 
 Her shrinking softness . . and each powV opprest 
 With change unwelcome, and unblest !— 
 
 For whisper'd breath of Zephyrs fair, 
 That, stealing from the lenient West, 
 
 Fann'd her light slumbers with odorous wing, . . 
 And minister^ the music of the air 
 
 From birds that waken'd her to hear them sing, 
 
O THE CONVENT. book i. 
 
 For these, — in rugged strife combine 
 The gusty howl, and ever-vexing brine ! — 
 For all that smoothly flow'd, or fond-carest, - - 
 That lull'd her sense, or balm'd her breast, - - 
 
 The Seaman's rough, hoarse jargon to abide ! — 
 How doth yon barb'rous Rout, with shameless jeer, 
 Or bray'd blasphemings, harrow up her ear ! - - 
 
 Less harsh their many-noising engines gride. 
 
 Of mood more boist'rous than the winds that blew, - - 
 Forward, and fierce, in clamorous affray, -- 
 Still on her gentle spright they wreak dismay; 
 
 And oft she hides her from that iron Crew, 
 And for the land sits watching day by day. — 
 
 O may it be ?--- the blessed Land she spies ! 
 Light as a Sylph in airy play, 
 Bounding, she bears the word away ; 
 
 Messina !" they return, in shouts of glad surprize. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 The Galley moors, — when, lusting for the land, 
 Where Philip rang'd his Warmen, cas'd in mail, 
 Richard, and all his Host, like pouring hail, 
 
 Spring from the deck, and mingle band with band. — 
 
 The Monarchs, greeting, change the strict embrace, 
 
 Pledge of high Souls ! that binds them to the Cause : — ■ 
 RevYent, on either hand, the Throng withdraws, 
 
 Yon Chiefs conferring in the central space. 
 
ook i. THE CONVENT. 27 
 
 Each link'd with other in hope, hand, and soul, - - 
 
 Ardent, the rip'ning future they survey — 
 
 Conspire the Battle's menacing array, 
 And discipline War's Thunders, ere they roll. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Not yet for Salem's holy Tow'rs they bend : — 
 
 On Acra's billow-beaten Wall, 
 
 First, the pending stroke must fall : 
 There, crowd the Foes . . there, Syria's realm defend. — 
 For prompt embarkment sounds the word ; 
 Nor long, ere Gallia's Armies are aboard. 
 The Briton, monish'd of his Fleet's decay, 
 Restores it madd'ning at the dull delay. — 
 
 More patient, meek Matilda wears the time, - - 
 Longs to depart, . . . yet longs without a crime ; 
 Invokes Devotion's mollifying Pow'r ; 
 Leaves all with God, nor chides the laggard-hour. 
 
THE TEMPEST. 
 
 Strung for the course, at rest from ev'ry care, - - 
 
 Britannia clove the Flood with omens fair — 
 Fair, . . but perfidious ! — 
 
 Midway from the shore, 
 
 Where Isle, and Continent, were spied no more, - - - 
 Heav'n all the roof, and Ocean all the floor, 
 While not a passing air was heard to breathe, 
 Nor feathery vapour stain'd the Glass beneath, 
 But all within the charm'd Circumference lay 
 Calm, peaceful, bright, as on Creation's Day, — 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 At once the Mariner's presageful eye 
 Took knowledge of Disturbance threading nigh. 
 Kis'n from the guilty Seats of Hate, and Pain, 
 Man's ancient Foe prepar'd it, - - on the Main 
 Permitted, for a space, to roam at large, 
 And prove the Faith of HeavVs peculiar Charge. 
 With light's decline, the mutter'd harm came on : 
 
 Foul spots environ'd the descending Sun, 
 
 Awhile, impatient linger'd round his head, 
 And seem'd to scowl him down, till the last gleam was fled. 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 THE TEMPEST. 29 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 A mortal stillness held the shudd'ring Deep. 
 
 Heavy with Doom, — with lurid volumes hung, 
 Conglob'd in musfring masses . . heap o'er heap, — 
 
 Slow-labours the dark Load of Storm along. 
 That Load is pois'd: — That Darkness, like a spell, 
 Blinds all th r Abyss with Horror breath'd from Hell !— 
 At signal from a darted flash, the Sky 
 Groan'd thunder : — Expectation groans reply ! — 
 Again the quiVring forks out-fly . . 
 While with full burst the Voice, o'er-head, 
 
 Redoubling crack on crack, with boundless peal, 
 Roars at the World, as it would call the Dead ! — 
 
 Wide Nature, . . to her centre made to feel 
 
 The mighty shake, and from her basis reel, 
 With many a boom sends awfully around 
 Through all her jarring Realms big-rolling tides of Sound. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Whilst the quail'd Mariner forgets to steer, 
 Oft cow'ring, as the dismal-featur'd Height 
 Snatches a smile of murd'rous light, 
 
 (For, Light, and Dark, are names of Mischief here!) 
 Sudden, o'erburthen'd, the low-hanging Night 
 
 Breaks in a deluge down. < 
 
THE TEMPEST. book i. 
 
 Nor idle stood 
 
 The strenuous Winds : — Rous'd, in severest mood, 
 East, and South, and savage North, 
 With frantic rush come bellowing forth - - 
 Visit, in scouring flight, the worried Flood - - 
 Let loose their dreadful breath - - 
 And wheel, and riot, on their wings of death ! 
 Now, the fell Spirits, whom no pray'rs appease, 
 With ruffling shock discharge the blast 
 On flitter'd sheet, and snapping mast - - 
 In the wild hurry of their course 
 Tear up the boiling Gulf- - above, beneath, 
 Seek prey, . . and, as they please, 
 
 On many a shatter 'd Wreck, at mercy cast, 
 Dash into madding foam the Seas — 
 
 Take the proud surges with outrageous force, 
 And, bidding Chaos rule again, 
 Fling to the Firmament yon Mountains of the Mam ! 
 
 XL. 
 
 Amid this coil, confounding Earth and Heav'n, - - 
 
 Where, wand'ring Dove ! . . .Matilda ! . . . where art thou?. 
 Behoves thee all that holy calmness now, 
 
 In thy frail Chamber tost, and tempest-driv'n, 
 
book I. THE TEMPEST. 
 
 31 
 
 With billows thund'ring at thy bed of rest ! — 
 
 Ere through the liquid World they plunge thee down, 
 Kneel, suffering Saint, and pray for pow'r to drown ! 
 Yet, though secure to rise among the Blest, 
 Be, still, thy cares to living safety giv'n ! 
 O shroud thee close ! nor trust thy sense to know 
 Yon crazing Scene, . . above the guess of Fear 
 Angry, and loud, and terrible, and drear ! — 
 Such hurly, Sinners find in dreams of dying woe ! 
 
 XLI. 
 
 To thee no respite comes, afflicted Maid I 
 
 In thee, the Fiends would crush Religion's PowV : — 
 And are thy sublunary joys thus laid, 
 
 In one disastrous hour ? — 
 The Turbulence abates ! — Heav'n, bring thine aid ! 
 Awhile, in doubtful empire o'er the Main, 
 Rest, and alternate Molestation, reign. — 
 The lorn Matilda, (long shut fast below, 
 
 Shunning the sight of yon sepulchral Round,) 
 At length, . . each weak limb lifting slow, . . 
 
 From her sad shelter dares peep forth again. — 
 And does a gleam of blessed light 
 Shed comfort on her sight ? — 
 One solid Blot, from circling bound to bound ! . . 
 
32 the tempest; 
 
 book fct 
 
 As ev'ry cloud from ev'ry coast were driv'n, 
 To hide her from the gracious eye of Heav'n ! — 
 
 O hark ! • E'en now, Gehennah's rav'ning Train, 
 
 Unsated, wake their worst of ire, . . 
 
 And Hope hath beamed in vain ! — 
 Still, still, it works amain ! 
 The Skies look vengeance with a blacker frown — 
 Fierce, and more fierce, th' embodied Rains lash down :- 
 Rising stronger yet, and higher, 
 The blowing Furies of the Air, - - 
 The Waters, up in midnight-war, - - 
 The blinding flash . . the deaf 'ning split . . are there, 
 To all that life and reason keep, 
 Menacing hideous death where'er they sweep : — 
 'Tis mingling Ruin round, and Dissolution dire ! 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Angels that guard the Just from Godless Foes, 
 This heaving Wilderness at length compose ! 
 Our Ark deliver ! — There they rage 
 And revel . . there the whelming battle wage ! 
 Quell the ferocious blast, ere yet too late ! 
 It rears yon fulminating billow's weight, 
 One broad, o'er-beetling Sea, . . . whose fall is Fate ! 
 
book i. THE TEMPEST. 53 
 
 She lingers yet ; — but, pow'rless how she lies !— - 
 Keep watch ... or the poor yielding Victim dies ! — 
 Her light is lost — her government is gone — 
 To other climes her sails are flutt'ring on — 
 No more with breast of oak the storm she braves- — 
 Her guardian-helm betrays her to the waves — 
 O'er her strain'd sides the maniac-torrent raves — 
 
 Tormented, — stunn'd,— outworn, — she reels to sleep. 
 Her Souls, aghast at Memory's rushing crime, 
 With each wild moment, take their leave of Time, — 
 
 On growing Hills of Water hang sublime, 
 
 Then, . . . down, down, headlong pitch into the darkest Deep ! 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 What rugged Shipman, grown in turmoils grey, 
 Hath stood a brunt like this, . . or e'er beheld, 
 Wide-scatter'd o'er the frothy field, 
 A fleet so gallant, or an Host so gay ? — 
 Now are the Spirits prov'd ! — In this hard hour, 
 While grave on grave is op'ning to devour, 
 And one remorseless high Rebellion roars 
 From central Ocean to the quaking shores, - - 
 While Heroes hide in silence from th' alarms 
 Of Heav'n on fire, and Elements in arms, — 
 
 D 
 
34 THE TEMPEST. book i. 
 
 While very Britons, at such Terrors near, 
 
 Are half-constrain'd to try what Thing is Fear, 
 
 One Tow'r there stands, unmov'd amidst the roll 
 Of universal wraek : — That Tow'r . . is Richard's Soul ! 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Conversing with Destruction, England's King, 
 As the quick flash yon tragic sight renews, 
 Far round, his lab'ring Navigation views, 
 O'erborne . . or struggling on, while Fate pursues ; 
 Yet, once, e'en Richard's hand no help can bring l-r 
 Still, to his Own, that heart'ning voice is nigh, 
 To drown the Trembler's despicable cry, 
 
 To nerve the Strengthless, raise Dejection's head, — 
 
 And shew how Courage lives . . when Hope is dead : — 
 
 " Warriors, and Friends ! - - By ev'ry hostile sign, 
 Satan, and all his Legions, are abroad : — 
 So be ! — 'Tis yours to trample on his pow'r.— 
 
 Call'd forth to strike for God, we ride the Main 
 
 And God, though Devils disappoint the Deed, 
 
 Shall crown the Purpose. What, then, is your fear ? — 
 
 Nay, speak ! . . To part from life ? — Your cheeks reply: — 
 
 When to the calling trumpet first ye flew, 
 
 Each dar'd his chance ... to triumph, or expire. 
 
 If Death be here, - - still, Martyrs, here we die — 
 
 Welcome, alike, the sabre, or the wave."— 
 
book i. THE TEMPEST. 35 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Rous'd by the word, each Brother of the War 
 
 Shook sadness off, - - nor Danger seem'd a foe. 
 
 The Mariners with kindred fervor glow, 
 And hail in Richard's eye their polar star. — 
 Nor less that heav'nly Maid, of nicest frame, 
 
 And for those rude concussions all unmeet, 
 
 Which, through its fragile case, the spirit beat, 
 Draws hope from God's all-salutary Name. — 
 Now, prostrate Supplication's urgent cry, 
 By holy Wilhelm led, ascends on high, 
 
 To Him that wields the Universe, Alone : — 
 'Tis heard ! 'Tis heard !— The Voice that made the Sky, 
 
 Rebuk'd it, . . and bade Peace resume her throne. 
 The Demons to their burning Chains below 
 Are fled, through dark'ning, deep'ning Gulfs of Woe. 
 In surly silence, the grim Clouds retire 
 With tumblings wild, . . and quench their murky fire ; 
 All Winds, of persecuting Name, expire ; 
 
 Th' insurgent Waters to their place decline : — 
 And see where smiles a promissory ray, 
 Sent by the Prince of Splendor on his way ! — 
 Now, Pomps of golden Glory lead the Day ! — 
 Now, blazing like a God, forth breaks the Light divine ! 
 
36 THE TEMPEST. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 To peace, . . to joy, . . to praise, . . all hearts revive : — 
 They look, - - and fairer, dearer hopes arrive : 
 
 " Land ! Land ! Our noble Galley's yet alive !" — 
 
 Straight from her swilling Bulk the Brine they throw, 
 And intercept th ) invading tides below, — 
 Rudder, and plank, and canvass, half-restore — 
 Then, point the prow tow'rd yon discover'd shore. — 
 The remnant of the fleet, in piteous plight, 
 CrawPd after, . . and forgot th' infernal Night. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Now, — Palestine denied,— in Cyprus' bay 
 The mangled Armament reposing lay. 
 There, Man will sure be mild, though Storms be rude : 
 Not Man, of Cyprus born ! — O miscreant Brood, . . . 
 That, like the savage Kind, in wood, or den, 
 Left succourless the pining Sons of men ! 
 Sons ? — Charity forgive them ! - - But the blast 
 That on their soil Britannia's Valour cast, 
 Left on the cruel sands her Beauty's fame — 
 Her Beauty, . . lodg'd, with Goodness, in Matilda's frame. 
 
book i. THE TEMPEST. 37 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 On the same strand, hung drooping by her side 
 Lennore, - - Navarra's Princess, and her Pride. 
 From distant realms, (Devotion's force to prove,) 
 Each tending to the Pilgrim's Land of Love, 
 Safe had they saiPd, . . if Charms might move the Skies, 
 And refuge found, - - if Men had hearts or eyes : — 
 But no ! — sweet Woman at her last they see, . . 
 Nor listen to Compassion's melting plea ! 
 
 And is it thus ye 'scape the greedy Main ? — 
 As well be thrown to all the Winds again, 
 Brew'd up with hissing fire, and briny rain, 
 As, helpless, houseless, and deserted, lie 
 On that inexorable shore, - - and die ! 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 What stirr'd in Richard, as the lot befel, . . 
 Let Storm, or Conflagration, tamely tell ! — 
 Care, for himself, and for his hardy Bands, 
 Touch'd not his thought ; — their help was in their hands : — 
 But sweet Matilda, - - but yon stranger-Maid, - - 
 Unpitied, while in lamb-like suiF ranee laid ! 
 And must that sufTrance e'en to death endure ? — 
 No : — Strong the malady but swift the cure. 
 
38 THE TEMPEST. 
 
 BOOK 
 
 With burning haste, he left in trust awhile 
 Each lovely Charge — then, with denouncing smile, 
 CalTd high. His Myrmidons in brass appear : — 
 Trembles whole Cyprus at their fell career ! — 
 
 Her King began the shame ! — upon her King, 
 Where'er he lurk, our Lion hies to spring. 
 Hunted through ev'ry guard, . . 3 wall, trench, or tow'r, . . 
 The sceptred Caitiff meets Perdition's hour : — 
 His Population bleeds — his Throne is down — 
 Himself lies chain'd — and Richard wears his Crown ! 
 
 END OF BOOK I. 
 
39 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 THE CAPTIVES. 
 
 Hath ever Minstrel taught his jarring lyre 
 To slander Love ? — Yes . . I have heard a lay, 
 That calTd th' impassion^ Youth away — 
 That murmur'd at his joy, and told 
 Of tort'ring change from warmth to cold, - - 
 Of brittle Faith, - - of raptures that expirej - - 
 And all-untimely death by slow-consuming fire. 
 
 Oblivion on thy strain, unhallow'd Bard ! 
 Whose rash- intruding foot hath dar'd 
 Into the Paradise of Love . . . domains 
 Where smiling Captives hug their silken chains !- 
 What though the PowV, as evVy hope were lost, 
 Frown for a while, and in his alterM mood 
 (To chasten pride, or cool the feverous blood,) 
 Acquaint his Homagers with frost ? — 
 
40 THE CAPTIVES. book h 
 
 For, as again those cordial fires return, 
 With larger joy the bosom seems to fill : — 
 Good shines, by recollected ill, . . 
 
 And, of Disconsolation, Bliss is born. 
 
 What gladdens thee, when Spring lights up the World ? — 
 What but to see and hear 
 
 Young leaves, and fluting birds, and pleasant streams, 
 Welcome again the genial beams 
 Of the relenting Year ? 
 
 They, scatt'ring life and lustre as they come, 
 Gild a warm flowery scene, with dews impearl'd, 
 Where (as the widow'd Earth had lost her cheer,) 
 
 All Nature dormant lay, drear, dark, and dumb. — 
 If thou hast health, . . . what makes the treasure known ? — 
 Remembrance of thy sickness flown - - 
 
 To think upon the time, of comfort bare, 
 When Life was labour . . and each breath a groan. — 
 Varies the path to Joy with Love alone ? — 
 
 No : — Question all his Votaries, all shall swear, 
 
 It opens from the cavern of Despair. 
 
 Hear, then, Assassin of the Heart!— • 
 Hear, while the Muse Love's Triumph sings !■ — 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 THE CAPTIVES. 41 
 
 On that celestial day, 
 That renovates his golden sway, 
 When Fondness, breaking from her practis'd part, 
 Once, and for ever, hurls the mask away, . . 
 When banish'd Hopes come home on rosy wings, . . 
 And Doubt is flying, . . and Disdain is fled, . . 
 And Anger's nourish'd worm lies dead, . . 
 And Clemency her healing balsam lends, 
 
 And gently-chiding wiles begin their play, 
 
 Then, dove-like whispers moan delicious things, 
 And the tun'd sigh from deep contentment springs, 
 As the long Night of Separation ends :— 
 Then ! . . Love, with Love, in the home-kiss contends, 
 Till Nature thrill through all her feeling strings ! — 
 While Peace again becalms the ruffled brow, . . 
 Look how a smile can vow, 
 
 And sweetly be believ'd ! — A Cherub fair, 
 
 See Reconcilement revel in the eye, 
 While drops of tenderness are trembling there ! 
 Sent in those dewy glances, mutual fly 
 Meanings, too dear, . . too subtle for the tongue, — . 
 Unwritten language of the mind, 
 Copious, glowing, chaste, refin'd, . . 
 With nicer idioms for soft converse kind, 
 Known but to Love's Elect — held secret e'en from Song ! 
 
42 THE CAPTIVES. book ii. 
 
 Rebel, repent, . . and Love shall crown thy brows 
 With garlands culTd in Arcady! — Though late, 
 O'ercome thy weakness, or thy fate : — 
 From the cold arms of Apathy arouse ! — 
 Fool ! . . with Love's nectar at thy lip, to dream 
 fk poison lurking in the blissful stream ! — 
 Lurk though it may, and in each vein of thine 
 
 O'er-keenly tingle, - - yet indulge its flow 
 To thy rich profit — for the juice divine 
 
 Wherewith 'tis magically brew'd, 
 Shall antidote the bane, . . and, mantling fine, 
 Leave such a savour of beatitude, 
 As Monarchs might renounce their thrones to know I 
 
 But, pause ! — More solemn be my closing song ; — 
 To graver charges, graver strains belong : — 
 " The Lover owns a Deity of clay, 
 That snares him from The Living Pow'r away." 
 
 Attend the lofty leading of my Muse ; — 
 Then gather, as the wond'rous tale ensues, 
 How Love, - - with adoration fix'd on high, 
 Can scorn Possession, here, for Hopes beyond the Sky ! 
 
THE CAPTIVES. 43 
 
 I. 
 
 Ere yet the Sun that led him, cease to shine, — 
 Triumphant from his harrying war, 
 Amid the clang of trump and drum, . . 
 With looks that bear his all-puissant Line 
 Blazon'd in characters divine, . . 
 
 TowVd yon imperial Dames behold him come ! — 
 Descending from his lofty car, 
 Awhile he soothes to rest 
 Each palpitating breast, . . 
 Then to his conquered Court removes the Fair. — 
 Soon, frighted Peace returns again ; — 
 Refection, . . Hope, . . sweet converse, . . heal their pain- 
 Theirs - - not his own ! - - for at his burning heart 
 
 Was haughty Richard doom'd to prove, 
 How deep, . . how cureless, . . yet how dear, the smart, 
 When Pity lends her shaft to Love ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Oft, . . in such kind as Virgins dare with Man, . . 
 
 To her high Champion bright Navarra pays 
 
 The rich return of thankful praise, 
 (Though looks beamd eloquence, ere speech began.) 
 
44 THE CAPTIVES. book 11 
 
 And, lovelier in confusion, tries 
 
 The sweetly-failing note, --nor quite reveals, 
 Nor quite represses, all she feels, — 
 Or silence the reluctant word supplies. 
 With raptures ever new, 
 Her gazing, list'ning Hero deeply drew 
 
 The sparkling cup of Love - - ador'd the day 
 That, for an Angel's rescue, lit his ray - - 
 Cast all the Lion from his heart - - 
 Essay'd the Lover's milder part - - 
 And, like a soften'd Caesar, came — beheld — overthrew. 
 
 III. 
 
 - The Prince, with double glories on his crown, 
 Look'd on Lennore, . . and felt a double joy : 
 Much his content, a Tyrant to destroy, — 
 
 More, that his Queen, that Tyrant's Realm her own, 
 
 Shall rise upon the ruins of a Throne.- — 
 
 Scarce had the royal Nymph, with answ'ring eye, 
 
 And yielded hand, half-rais'd him to the sky, . . 
 
 When the loud trumpet through his palace told 
 
 A Warrior-King's approach, with pageant bold. — 
 
 Entrance accorded, — the renowned Name 
 Of Lusignan was heard, --and thus he spoke his claim : — 
 
THE CAPTIVES. 45 
 
 IV. 
 
 " Jerusalem, — the City, and the Realm, — 
 Confest, erewhile, my lawful governance. 
 From crown'd Sybilla, by a Husband's title, 
 To me the sceptre fell. E'en thus I stood, 
 E'er Saladine yet won, by lot of war, 
 The sacred seat. Yea, thus, erewhile, I stood - - 
 And thus, with Richard's aid, may stand again : — 
 Meantime, shall Conrad, forward still in wrong, 
 From Isabel, with vain pretence, derive 
 The dignity, . . and pluck my crown away ? 
 Sister to Sybil, . . but of later birth, . . 
 Right hath she none ; nor Conrad, e'en in thought, 
 Had dar'd aspire so high — but Philip's pow'r, 
 More prevalent, upholds th' audacious plea. — 
 
 Thus, Fate befriends him - - and I, Lusignan, 
 With arms unequal, vainly hope my Throne." 
 
 Riehard, with gen'rous indignation warm, — 
 Swift to resolve, and fiery to perform, — 
 Instinctive grip'd his hilt, and sudden swore . . 
 " Conrad shall riot in his hopes no more ! — 
 Love stays my hand awhile, . . and, stronger still, 
 Our fight for Christendom. The softer call 
 
46 THE CAPTIVES 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 Demands me ere the ruder : — Deign to grace 
 
 Our instant Hymeneal ; — then, in arms, 
 
 On Palestine together pour we down : — 
 
 Smile Conquest there and Salem calls thee King.*" 
 
 So spake the Briton, . . ever, at a word 
 
 From Right insulted, brandishing the Sword. 
 
 Enough was Justice ; — but Ambition came, 
 
 And, secret, prick'd him with a Rival's name. — 
 
 Though creeping Envy never touch 'd the Brave, 
 
 Keen Emulation calTd e'en Richard slave, - - 
 
 And Philip's arm, uplifted for the wrong, 
 
 Made Cceur-de-lion's, for the right, more strong. 
 
 . 
 
 VI. 
 
 Hail to the Day, when Richard, thron'd in bliss, 
 Prints on Lennora's lip the spousal kiss ! — 
 But while the God of Marriage proud displays 
 
 His brightest torch, and gives the pomp to blaze, 
 
 I watch, where Lusignan, retir'd apart, 
 At sweet Matilda looks out all his heart. — 
 111 can remembrance of the sacred hour 
 That bound him to Sybilla, hold its powV. 
 Sole fear of Richard keeps the boldness down, 
 That, else, would risk with love the Virgin's frown. 
 Speech he refrains — but, in his hidden soul, 
 Scarce may the prison'd Fury bear control — 
 
 , a 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 THE CAPTIVES. 47 
 
 Now, seems to sleep, till fav'ring time shall be - - 
 
 Now, clamours for the signal to be free : — 
 
 " Sybilla lingers on a mortal bed ; — 
 
 Live but Matild — and Heav'n receive the dead V 
 
 VII. 
 
 But Passion to a rougher call must yield : — 
 Richard can live no longer from the Field. 
 His darted Spirit kens the distant Foe : — 
 His Body springs to follow. — Burning so, . . 
 " Prepare for Ptolemais !" hear him cry : — 
 The hands of busy Mariners reply. — 
 
 To sail, enshielded by their mighty Lord, 
 With baffled hope the royal Dames implor'd. 
 What Love beseeches . . Love denies to give : — 
 " In your petition, learn what perils live, 1 ' 
 The Hero firm rejoinders ; — "Many a bark, 
 From this our Cyprus, to the Syrian shore, 
 Threatens with armed prow. Be mine to try 
 What dares the Sarazen : — His rage reprov'd, 
 Safe shall ye follow. Till I sound the call, 
 In Cyprus find fair shelter." — At the word, 
 A noble Train his vivid summons heard ;— 
 
48 THE CAPTIVES. book h 
 
 Stout Lancaster, with Lei'ster, and the Name 
 Of high Northumberland, obsequious came, - - 
 Consorted, each, with an illustrious Dame. — 
 One, from the gallant Chivalry of Gaul, 
 Amidst them flew, . . pre-eminent o'er all ; 
 Bright Montmorenci, - - first at Honour's call : — 
 On him had Nature lavish'd all her store — 
 Scarce yet a man — a Hero long before. 
 With these, hath Richard's all-providing care 
 Yon Pearls repos'd, of England, and Navarre. 
 
 Deep Lusignan, though Love's delicious fate 
 Seems proffer'd now, . . rejects the luring bait. 
 On Richard, still, his covert hopes depend ; 
 And Craft must work, to mould the mighty Friend. 
 Behoves him, first, a Warrior's lofty part : 
 Save this, . . no passage to the Briton's heart ! 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Such was the Force, that, rallying at the cry 
 Of these, forlorn, defied hostility : — 
 To sentinel the soul from direr foes, 
 In Heav'n's own strength, anointed Wilhelm rose. — 
 So fellow'd, . . guarded so, . . they strive to cheer 
 Their wintry state, ere brighter days appear. . 
 Alas ! Though Comfort's warmest words were there, . . 
 Comfort came not. — Let Patience bar Despair ! 
 
THE CAPTIVES. 
 
 IX. 
 
 49 
 
 But, truce with Woman's tender tear : — 
 
 Ye mournful Dames, adieu ! — 
 
 Severer Scenes are crowding on my view : — 
 As Palestine draws near, 
 
 The din of Battle, heard anew, 
 Brings harmony to Richard's ear. 
 
 With fierce attention starting round, 
 He sets his organ to the Sound, 
 
 And speaks fresh life into the lab'ring Crew. 
 Now swells the conflict in the breeze — 
 Now, silent seems amid the louder seas : — 
 " Lo ! Acra meets us, . . op'ning tow'r on tow'r ! - 
 Hear how she quakes before the Christian Pow'r V 
 
 As Richard's breath had filTd it, ev'ry sail 
 Struts bold, . . and tightens to the pressing gale. 
 
 X. 
 
 Swift was the landing of those Legions dread, - - 
 While shouted salutation on the shore 
 From Philip's friendly host, at ev'ry roar 
 Alarm through all the City spread. — 
 With light assault, and desultory rage, 
 The Franks had galPd, within their stony Cage, 
 
 E 
 
50 THE CAPTIVES. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 Yon Saracens, - - pausing, with prudent care, 
 (Though Europe, in her valiant Sons, be there,) 
 Till mightiest Richard come, to swell the War. — 
 Brief though the greeting, - - lengthen'd was the joy, 
 Amid yon Warriors of the Cross; 
 
 And evVy word and ev'ry glance that fled, 
 Ere yet the Battle bled, 
 
 Gave pledge of lustihood, through gain, or loss 
 
 Determinings high-strung, and compact to destroy. 
 
 "XL 
 
 Now, at his Post assign'd, each Monarch brave 
 Stood panoplied, and bade the pennons wave. 
 In orient view, before " Th' accursed TowV," 
 
 Behold with military pride advance, 
 
 Blazing afar, the Oriflamb of France, 
 Which, - - brought, they tell, by some celestial PowV, 
 In Charlemagne's victorious hour, - - 
 
 Stream'd like a meteor from his golden lance. 
 West, on the shore, see Britain's Hero-King : — 
 
 All Foes forbidding from the guarded strand, 
 He rises, like an Eagle on the wing, 
 
 If hostile sound, from Ocean, reach the Land. — 
 
 Yes — Danger threats from Sea, - - and dire the hand 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 THE CAPTIVES. 51 
 
 Whence it may come ! — E'en Richard, . . . tho' his might 
 Leaves him, till now, sole Sov'reign of the fight, . . . 
 May front a Foe, of hardiment to stand 
 His utmost, in the brunt of mortal strife. 
 
 Yes — Hadel is abroad, . . and stains the flood, 
 Where'er he roams, with noble Christian blood :— - . 
 In him, hath Asia's Quarrel, death, or life. — 
 
 XIL 
 
 Each heart is ready — But, on either side, 
 
 One Hero more is wanting to the Fray. 
 
 Still is redoubted Conrad far away, 
 Fending the walls of Tyre : — there, late, he tried 
 The Sultan, and impair'd his Battles' pride. — 
 Yet, though the Chief by many a Bard be sung, 
 A weightier loss on Ptolemais hung : 
 Not yet th' expected arm of Saladine 
 Comes, . . that the Crescent's darken'd horn may shine. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 " Be Conrad summon'd!" ev'ry Captain cries : — 
 The message flew : — Th' aspiring Chief denies : 
 " First give Jerusalem !" He brief replies. — 
 Then Richard, loud : — " Save Lusignan, I swear, 
 No living Wight her sacred crown shall wear." — 
 
52 THE CAPTIVES. book h. 
 
 Philip, incens'd, retorts the proud decree - - - 
 
 " Conrad shall hold that sacred crown from Me !" 
 
 Contention was awake : — Band, threafning Band, 
 Flew into faction, and let Rage command. 
 Discordant projects all their Counsel crost 
 Religious love in earthly hatred lost. 
 
 Ling'ring supine along the tented shore, 
 Yon severM Kings pursued the war no more. — 
 Richard, in jocund revels wore away 
 Long nights, and slumber'd through a deedless day. 
 The Soldier follow'd what his Lord began, . . 
 And through the Camp unfetter'd license ran. — 
 
 Crafty, and cold, Augustus held to scorn 
 His Rival, . . nor appear'd for pleasure born, — 
 
 Shunn'd, like a Saint, the soft voluptuous dream 
 
 Austerity, his practice, and his theme. 
 
 Some, rashly daring, . . careless of the Cause 
 That chain'd their Leaders, . . break th 1 inglorious pause, 
 And, rushing on remoter Foemen, wage 
 Wild battles, in a burst of predatory rage. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 What stirr'd contention on the Tyrian shore ? — 
 Thy Genius, Conrad, . . craving still to soar. — 
 Italia bare, and bred him. Nurs'd in strife, 
 He fought upon the Land that gave him life — 
 
 
jook ii. THE CAPTIVES. 53 
 
 To glory, by forbidden turnings, trod — 
 Wrote Christian, - - but ador'd an earthly God ! 
 Excursive in his rage as fire, or wind, 
 He left unfinish'd victories behind, — 
 Snuffing the scent of conquest from afar, 
 Sail'd wide, . . and, as he landed, call'd for War. 
 
 Anon, Ambition lent a loftier wing : — 
 " Jerusalem's broad Reign shall hail me King !'' — 
 Tyre, first, he threaten'd, . . Salem's ancient bound, 
 And lighting, with a Legion, camp'd around. 
 Occasion met him, - - half the strong array 
 That shielded her, to Acra drawn away. 
 Brief was the siege : — Ere Succour came to face 
 The storming Onset, — Conrad rul'd the place. 
 
 But Saladine drew on, . . . and, with a Pow'r 
 That shook the Victor e'en in Triumph's hour, 
 Turn'd Fortune. Many a Moon, hard-leaguer'd there, 
 Th' Italian stood, . . . nor parley'd with Despair. 
 The Foe, still fresh'ning, prospers by delay ; 
 While Conrad sees, on ev'ry darker Day, 
 The sinews of Resistance melt away.-^ 
 Force fails ; — but wily practice may restore 
 What Fate hath ravish'd : — Note the guise it wore : — 
 
 XV. 
 
 Found in the walls, - - of Saracenic blood, 
 But Christian, at the core, - - an Arab stood. 
 
54} THE CAPTIVES. 
 
 BOOK II, 
 
 Him, shewn sincere by many a tort'ring test, 
 In secret colloquy the Chief addrest : 
 
 " Hamed ! --Our sinking state before thee lies : — 
 Thy faith is tried. — Thy service is to come. 
 Pagan, thyself, of yore, . .thou bear'st a key 
 To Pagan hearts : — befriend us-... or we fall." 
 The cordial Arab leant with list'ning ear. 
 " Mark my device; and, if it please thee well, 
 To Saladine an arrow's wing shall speed 
 Thy missive - - -this the tenor, and the train : — 
 Move him with feign'd remorse, and lowly suit 
 For pardon : — swear, thy penitential eyes 
 Weep gall on thine apostate villainy. 
 In proof of thy sound sorrow, brand with curses 
 Me, Conrad :^-Me, with all our fellows here, 
 In seeming, to the Sultan thus betray : — 
 CTer-paint our need — our weakness magnify — 
 Slander our valour — drain us, in thy tale, 
 Of arms, . . of concord — let lean Hunger join 
 With Malady, to cram the general Grave : — 
 Then, whisper him, . . ' To-morrow, all that live, 
 In the dark dead of Night shall creep away 
 From fatal Tyre, . . and to the Sarazen, 
 Through her expanded ports, leave entrance free.' — 
 This be thy weighty charge : — The rest be mine.'" 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 THE CAPTIVES, 55 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Assent is giv'n : — The lying shaft is fled, 
 Feather'd with destiny. The weapon sped, — 
 Gay Conrad, with a sign his ready Crew 
 Convoking, gave the stratagem to view. — 
 Soon as the subtle mischief meets their eye, . . 
 Scarce can he dumb the bursting peal of joy! — 
 All stands prepar'd : — Head, Heart, and Hand, combine, 
 And but the spark is wanting to the mine. — 
 
 Unstain'd with guile, Arabia's noble Chief 
 Embrac'd th' enticing fraud with fast belief — 
 Welcom'd his Tyre again, - - and swore to save 
 UnsacrifiVd, yon Remnant of the Brave. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Long-waited Night is come, . . and, in her fall, 
 Dark as the destinated work, hides all. — 
 Tow'rd the mid-watch, a troublous, murm'ring sound 
 Of movements, hush'd in secresy profound, 
 Stole from the walls : — at length, 'tis heard no more. — 
 
 The semblance of escape thus acted o'er, 
 
 Like tigers, on the watch, yon Christian Band, 
 With all Offence provided, take their deadly stand. 
 
THE CAPTIVES. book ii. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Central through Tyre, a stately-rolling Flood 
 Merg'd in the Midland-Sea whereon she stood. — 
 Dim-lighted by the stars, at Night's black hour, 
 Arabia's Lord, . . with half his armed Pow'r 
 Embarking, . . enters with the refluent tide ; — 
 Half, scale th' unguarded Walls from side to side. 
 
 The floated Force, advancing, view'd around 
 Yon tomb-like City, . . without breath, or sound. — 
 Ere peep of dawn, by Saladine's command, 
 Each galley moors along the vacant strand. 
 Aloof, their Comrades, to the ladder'd height 
 Fast-rising, . . shift the cords for downward flight. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Hark ! — Rous'd, as from the Dead, their Foes combine, - 
 All ripe, and rising, for the close design. — 
 Down on the barks, huge rocky fragments drive, 
 Sinking whate'er they strike. Who 'scap'd alive, 
 In burning ire, or blank amazement, stand — 
 Then, mad for vengeance, hurry tow'rd the land. 
 
 Death meets them full : — Up-springing from the shore, . . 
 Like those from Cadmus' teeming field of yore, . . 
 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 THE CAPTIVES. 57 
 
 The Christians, ranked in battailous array, 
 
 Flash into sight, and thunder on their prey. 
 
 The Sarazens, inveigled, met the snare 
 
 With boldness, wrung from Fury, and Despair. 
 
 These, from the galley sprung, their armour's weight 
 
 Stopp'd short - - and in the stream they drank their fate : — 
 
 Those, toiling up the bank, and brave in vain, 
 
 Confus^, . . unshielded, . . succourless, . . are slain. 
 
 Death stops not here : — Their Fellows, from the Wall 
 
 O'er-speedily descending, rue their fall. 
 
 Some reach the ground but perish as they tread ; — 
 
 Part, sabred in the passage, tumble dead. 
 
 Throngs, . . panic-seiz'd, . . remounting, take to flight ; — 
 
 But, guided by the Moon's re-kindling light, 
 
 Sling, stone, or javlin, fetch them from the height. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Worse woes befel ; — but cover'd be thy shame, 
 False Conrad - - canker of the Christian fame ! — 
 The Soldan, without rest, ere Morn reveal'd 
 Yon piles of Murder, through the dusky field 
 Reap'd wide revenge, — and in a voice that shook 
 Whole Tyre, - - and with a desolating look, 
 That clear'd his course, - -invited, near, and far, 
 False Conrad to the close of single War. — 
 
58 THE CAPTIVES. book ii. 
 
 Fear stay'd not Conrad ; — but the tempest high 
 Of Rage, and Ruin, drown'd his Foeman's cry, - - 
 Or, 'hap, he prest in vain to labour through 
 The midnight-mell of onslaught as it grew.— 
 
 All, save his honour, to the Pagan lost, — 
 All by the Christian won ... at honour's cost, — 
 A broken Few, by Saladine led on, 
 Rush to the barks, . . . and from the shore are gone, 
 
 XXI. 
 
 He, .. ominously silent as the gloom 
 Of gathering vapours, red with Storms to come, . . 
 Rose from defeat, with new-created PowV, 
 And pour'd on Christendom an iron show'r ; 
 O'er Palestine diffus'd his black'ning Host, 
 While, to the Cross, Keels, Troops, and Towns, were lost. 
 
 Next, Acra claim'd his care, . . with wild alarms 
 Now menac'd, and a raging World in arms. 
 Thither, anon, he sped the Choice, and Pride, 
 Of Araby, ... . and Fate and Foes defied. 
 
 Richard assails ! — What brazen Hold may stand ? — 
 What Sarazen, within them, bear command ? — 
 Othman is he. Search wide Assyria through, 
 None mate his rage to dare, — his force to do. 
 
 Acra relieve, - - the Soldan, with his Pow'r, 
 To Salem bent his march, and strengthen^ evVy Tow'r. 
 
THE CAPTIVES. 59 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Fame-blighted Conrad, loathing, as of old, 
 The sleep of Peace, - - plague of the Fierce, and Bold, - - 
 His Tyrian Forts repair^, and in the flow 
 Of Fortune, sprang to re-assault his Foe. 
 But Solyma to heavier Force must yield 
 Than, yet, he gather'd. — Where to find a Field ? — 
 From Acra, shame forbade him ; for he gave 
 Denial proud, . . late courted by the Brave : — 
 A loftier shame hath sent him to her walls ; — 
 There, Princes are in arms : — There, plum'd Ambition calls. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 At length, great Richard, bursting from the chain 
 Of sensual rest, reignM o'er himself again. — 
 Though, long, his gallant barks have clear'd the Deep 
 Of enemies, and Peril seem to sleep, . . . 
 Still mourn the royal Dames in Cyprus"' Isle, 
 Unsuffer'd, yet, in his embrace to smile. 
 
 Touch'd into flame, he speeds along the tide 
 A tow'ring Vessel, arm'd from side to side. — 
 It blest their view, as on the shore they stood : — 
 That hour beheld them on the favVing Flood. — 
 
60 THE CAPTIVES. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 Elate, - - encompass'd with Protection strong, - - 
 They dreamt no danger, as they danc'd along ; — 
 Or, if alarms were heard, it gave them ease 
 To think the Friends of Richard scour'd the seas. — 
 
 Grave Wilhelm shew'd, the while, a boding brow : — 
 Whate'er befal^ he cried, " to HeavVs appointment bow !" 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 It comes ! The Terror comes at last ! — 
 
 Mark'd from afar, with winged force 
 
 Yon Galley drives her desp'rate course. — 
 With clasped hands, and looks aghast, 
 As all their dreadful doom were cast, 
 
 The Dames, abandoned of resource, 
 Rais'd Horror's feeble cry, 
 And felt Hope sicken at the heart, and die. — 
 Down from aloft, their Champions bore away 
 The fainting Fair - - then, turn'd a rougher way. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Ere yet arrive their savage Foe, 
 
 The Shipmen, gasping where they stand, 
 That flamy streamer know : — 
 
 Where'er it waves, . . Disaster is at hand f — 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 THE CAPTIVES. 61 
 
 From prore to stern, the dismal rumour grew ; — 
 " 'Tis Hadel !— Save us, Heav'n !"— The sound 
 In trembling accents falter'd around 
 Amid the heartless Crew. — 
 Of nobler souls, the Warrior-Train, 
 Guard of those Treasures twain, 
 Foretasting glory from an Hero slain, 
 
 To combat bolder flew. 
 What Knight shall from his top of Honour fall, 
 When Beauty to Religion lends her call ? — 
 Rous'd by the Galliot's fast approach, they run, 
 As now in threatful pride she comes full-foaming on. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Far-blazing at his Battle's head, 
 
 Arm'd as in thunder,— o'er yon hardy Slaves, 
 More savage than the sounding waves, 
 Terrific Hadel stands . . . and hope is fled ! — 
 Yet Courage, from the presage of Despair, 
 Took sprightlier life. Before the rest, 
 Young Montmorenci prest : — 
 
 Matilda's peril burning at his heart, 
 He longs to play a Conq'ror's part, 
 And, laughing at the mortal dart, 
 Breathes on his blade a Christian Soldier's pray'r. 
 
62 THE CAPTIVES. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 On either vessel's bending side, 
 The fronted Foes their doom abide : 
 With level'd weapons, . . hand to hand, 
 And eye on reddening eye, . . they stand. — 
 A moment sleeps : — a moment more, 
 Fury swells her wildest roar ! — 
 Galling pike, and thirsty spear, 
 Bicker and clash from van to rear - - 
 Their points impelPd with such a gust, 
 The barks half-drown at ev'ry thrust: — 
 Claymore, and Sabre, prompt as they, 
 In flashing circles fiercely play, 
 And oft the dripping blade could tell 
 Of a wife . . widow'd as it fell ! — 
 
 Now, join'd as one, the gallies He, 
 Fav'ring the sharp ferocity ; — 
 Dashing, now, the strife between, 
 Ocean's frothy tides are seen : 
 Nor shunning thus the death decreed, 
 Reacted by the missile shaft they bleed. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 But see where, foaming at the Fight's delay, 
 Dread Hadel, with resistless hand, 
 Compels the fluctuating barks to stand, 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
book ii. THE CAPTIVES. 
 
 And grappling keel to keel 
 With fangs of stubborn steel, 
 Beats the rebellious Element away : — 
 
 Sudden, as Wrath had made him wings, 
 Far on the hostile deck he springs. — 
 What follow'd, . . picture, ye that may, 
 
 That saw the sword, as in his hand it shook — 
 That mark'd Avengement, settling in his look : 
 He quarried, like a Condor, on his Prey, . . 
 And darker, as he came, appear'd the Day ! 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Whoe'er would time his fatal sweep, 
 
 Must catch it from the Lightning's leap ! 
 
 Long ere, yet, his Men of Might 
 Attend their Leader's fiery flight, . . . 
 Working ruin wide and far, 
 Himself, alone, performs the War, 
 While, at his feet, a rising flood 
 Measures the fall of Christian blood. — ■ 
 Where'er the dire Invader flies, 
 Courage recoils in stunn'd surprize : 
 Grim as the Bison, or the Bull, 
 When heady rage is at the full, . . 
 Beyond all record of the Muse, 
 He fells — he tramples — he pursues — 
 
64 THE CAPTIVES. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 Plagues, at their heels, the scatt'ring Sheep, . . 
 Or hurls them to the safer Deep ! — 
 
 Oppose his course ? — 'Twere better done, 
 Against the hurricane to run ! — 
 Nor Valour, here, nor flight, may save — i 
 Down go the Coward, and the Brave. — 
 
 Some hVd - - and many a lasting scar 
 Shall boast the luck that sav'd 'em there, 
 When helm, nor hammer'd buckler, stay'd 
 The swoop of his devouring blade. — 
 Philistia, thus thine armies reel'd, 
 When Samson mow'd the bristling Field! 
 
 XXX. 
 
 More firm, the Montmorenci stood : — 
 He, nobly prodigal of blood, 
 Repeats the disappointed blow 
 At Mahoun's Friend — Matilda's Foe : — 
 That Foe, magnanimous in ire, 
 Applauding, spares his youthful fire — 
 Hunts for his victims in the throng 
 Where fight the Stalwart, and the Strong- 
 Gives to great Vengeance all its room, 
 And marks the Mighty for the tomb ! 
 
 
BOOK II. 
 
 THE CAPTIVES. 65 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Hero, 'tis thine ! — Hard- writhing in their pains, 
 With absent limbs, and sever'd veins, 
 Linger the limited remains 
 
 Of Britain's, and of Gallia's prostrate Pow'r. 
 
 Warriors that ne'er had heard before 
 A Victor's voice, yield to the rigid hour;* 
 Force dies --and Conflict is no more. — 
 At once, the Master of the Ground 
 Calls from their task his reeking Lab'rers round : — 
 The dreaded mandate of their Lord 
 Charms, at its height, the lifted sword — 
 Not else, amid yon slaughter-loving Horde, 
 Had the stopp'd ear of Rage heard Mercy's melting sound. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 The Chief, whose very Name had wrung, till now, 
 Servility from ev'ry hostile Prow, 
 Seiz'd on the truth : — " Some precious Damsel bright, 
 In secret hoarded, hath inspir'd the fight." — 
 His thought confirm'd, . . with vague desire he flames, 
 And warns of his approach the Captive-Dames. 
 
66 THE CAPTIVES, e< 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 High-panting, recent from his angry mood, 
 While yet the fire of battle boil'd his blood, 
 He enter'd fierce, - - and suddenly survey'd, 
 UnveiPd, the Queen — eclips'd, the radiant Maid. 
 In the mute majesty of grief they stand, 
 And, shuddVing, wait the word of his command. 
 
 With lofty courtesy, the Prince declined 
 His op'ning brow, . . and all his wrath resign'd : — 
 But each had cast her eyes profoundly down, 
 Shunning the stroke of a barbaric frown. 
 That frown they fear, — yet apprehend, the while, 
 Far more, the sentence of . . . too kind a smile ! — 
 
 Hope still remain'd. Amid the Slaughter's rage, 
 Had Wilhelm's tongue (their suff 'ring to assuage) 
 Told Hadel's praise : — In that destroying Form 
 Dwelt Virtue, . . like an Angel in the Storm ! — 
 Once, ere the trump of Discord yet had blown, 
 By gentle deeds the deadly Chief was known ; 
 Though since, by the decree of wond'ring Fame, 
 " The Thunder-Bolt of Battle" is his Name. — 
 Such words in mind, — the Briton's royal Wife 
 Dares, first, behold their Arbiter of life. — 
 Disturbance fled ! — and, kindled in its place, 
 The flush of admiration lights her face. 
 
THE CAPTIVES. 67 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 The Chief advances, — and, with voice whose tone 
 
 Was terror, soften'd to a Lady's ear, . . 
 Like the fierce trump, to milder measures blown, . . 
 
 Thus banishes Lennore's returning fear : — 
 " What Hostages, fair Dames, in you I hold, 
 Your mien hath made me know : — But the rude hand 
 That causes, may redress your doom severe. 
 The Prince who, by a Sov'reign-Brother's right, 
 
 Commands my sword, renowned Saladine, 
 
 Shall, certain, hear my suit, while I solicit 
 For those who, late, adorn'd the Purple's pride, 
 All custom'd honour, and observancy, 
 Due to imperial Captives, won by me>— ■ 
 Meantime, be Hadel flatter'd by a trust 
 He knows not to abuse. In Gaza, nigh, 
 His Palace courts you. — There abide secure ;— 
 There shall obsequious homage wait your call, 
 Till ransom, or the lot of changeful war, 
 Proclaim you free, and to the Christian world, . . 
 Now darken'd, . . each illustrious Light restore." 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Thus while he spake, what felt the Vestal-Maid ? — 
 
 Shrouded in Modesty, — deep-sunk in woe, — 
 Victim of Horror, — and afraid 
 
68 THE CAPTIVES. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 E'en of the promise by a Pagan giv'n, — 
 
 She rais'd no look but, from all firmness driv'n, 
 
 Stood, with beseeching bend, before the Foe. — 
 Lennore, upbraiding mild th' ungracious fear, 
 Such comfort whisper'd in Matilda's ear, 
 As left the rose upon her cheek less pale. — 
 
 Slow-turning toward the Warrior, where he stood, 
 The Virgin wav'd her hand, in calmer mood, . 
 When from that shrine of Beauty Fortune snatch'd the veil ! 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Such ecstasy as lonely Adam knew, 
 When first perfection^ Eve entranc'd his view, 
 Through Hadel flasrTd electric, as the Maid. 
 Broke, dazzling, forth from the concealing shade : — 
 " What God from his embrace hath spared the Prize, 
 And dropped on earth yon Treasure from the skies ?" 
 But each wild word, imperfect-murm'ring, dies. 
 
 Still to that form devoting soul, and sight, 
 He gazes on, in eager fond delight - - 
 Love's ardor, purified with passive awe : — 
 She vanquish'd, ere her Captive yet she saw. — 
 Till now, his varying loves confest a mind 
 Without a Mate, . . . still chainless as the wind : 
 Gold stock'd his Haram with consenting charms, - - 
 The freest Fair most welcome to his arms. — 
 
book ii. THE CAPTIVES. 69 
 
 Here, first, his heart pays tribute to the pow'r 
 Of timid grace; which, . . . like the bashful flow'r 
 That shrinks at man's approach, and chastely grieves 
 If his rude hand attempt her conscious leaves, . . . 
 Wakes delicacy — ere he guess the cause, 
 Enchants, . . and, by retiring, stronger draws. — 
 His nature knows a change unthought before : 
 He loves ! - - a roving Ribauld, now no more. 
 His bosom breathes . . " Matilda, be my wife !" - - 
 And, from that hope, he dates his day of life. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Suspectless of her pow'r, - - unstain'd with guile, - - 
 Still to the ground Matilda vaiFd her look, — 
 Still held her ear from list'ning as he spoke, — 
 
 Nor cheer'd him with the prospect of a smile. 
 
 Close dwelt within her thought the dark disgrace, 
 Th' affrightment, and the woes, that must befal, 
 Should Christian Maid become a Pagan's Thrall : — 
 
 Danger, and Death, sure menace in his face ! — 
 
 Yet when, at length, with voice of gentlest tone, 
 Advanced he tenders that victorious hand, 
 (The gage of peace,) ere yet they seek the land, 
 
 She lets yon Heathen-Shape to her pure eyes be known. 
 
70 THE CAPTIVES. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Where, now, those boding horrors uncontroPd ? — 
 Where the petrific scowl, or glancing leer, 
 By Fancy conjuVd in wild starts of fear ? — 
 All fled . . . while, to her wond'ring sight full-told, 
 Sublime the Hero stood — e'en such in mould, 
 As he, whose echoing Name a Bard of fire 
 Shook through all Time from his tempestuous lyre,- 
 Pelides, — half a mortal, - - half-divine ! — 
 Yet, here, humaner graces fair-combine : — 
 High-thro^d in yon puissant Frame, behold 
 The Majesty of Strength, and front serenely bold! 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 While Grandeur, thus attemper'd, fills her view, 
 Th' astounded Maid prepares to make defence 
 Against th' o'er-pow'ring plea that gain'd her sense : 
 " A Pagan's mildness ! — Foul delusion, hence !"— 
 Yet, from within, a Voice reports him true. — 
 But now the Prince, . . confiding to his Train 
 Lennora's guidance, . . with a tend'rer care 
 To his proud bark transports the trembling Fair 
 (Leas trembling, for the Man of God was there) : — 
 
 
book ii. THE CAPTIVES. 71 
 
 To Gaza lies their course along the main. 
 Still at her side, he watch'd with keen regard 
 
 His heart's new Treasure, while unwonted sighs 
 
 Confus'd the word, whose meaning filFd his eyes : — 
 
 For Love, as bolder in desire, 
 
 More fears to vent the struggling fire, 
 Lest coldness kill the hope that burns for its reward. 
 
 XL. 
 
 Matild, profoundly musing, vainly sought 
 
 Th' abhorrence that behoves a Christian Maid, 
 To a wild Arab's hideous pow'r betray'd. 
 
 By her own calm to agitation wrought, 
 
 Thus, . . dreading mortal Sin, . . she pray'd : 
 
 " Forgive, sweet Heav'n ! . . thy Handmaid's fault forgive, 
 
 If, yet, this Unbeliever fail to raise 
 
 Within my virgin-breast the whole alarm 
 
 Thy will requires. Remove me from the reach 
 
 Of Satan's pow'r, if, now, - - as once of old 
 
 In Paradise, - - he lurk within a Form 
 
 Of lithe allurement, for a Woman's bane !" — 
 
 Long, thus, in troublous rumination wild, 
 
 Or hurried pray'r, with her own heart she strove, — 
 Then, (for she knew, nor dream'd, the name of Love, . . . 
 
72 THE CAPTIVES. book ii. 
 
 If Love her artless fantasy beguil'd,) 
 
 Afresh that Form perus'd, with timid care, ... 
 So to discover, and escape, the snare, 
 That threaten'd to destroy, yet, e'en in threatening, snuTd. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 They land : — The royal Captives bright behold, 
 Through large, luxuriant bowVs, their Pris'n of gold. 
 Under the Dome arriv'd, - - with fair accost, 
 (Himself a Captive !) thus their potent Host : 
 " High Ladies ! - - Holy Sire ! - - forgive this hand, 
 That, in the Battle's blinding violence, 
 Nought heeded, - - and your freedom still delays. 
 Meantime, in this your mansion deign to dwell : 
 Within these ample bounds, at ev'n or morn, 
 Walk, or recline ; and in their covVing shades, 
 Regale the sense with blossom, fruit, or flower : — 
 Within these bounds— O mark the warning well ! — 
 Howe'er seduc'd, . . beyond them dare not stray ! — 
 In yon death-shadow'd Vale, a Forest lies : — 
 There, hid for ages past, the Demon-Race 
 (Angelic, once, . . till, with audacious pride, 
 They rose on Heaven, and Alla's vengeance drew,) 
 Still hold their black Divan : — There, oft is found, 
 In serpent-form disguis'd, their damned King, 
 
BOOK U 
 
 THE CAPTIVES. 73 
 
 Old Skeithan. These beside, our Sages name 
 Ghouls, Gorgons, . . and such rav'ning Monsters more, 
 As Nature, mis-creating, fears to view ! — 
 Once more, imperial Strangers ! hear, and heed, 
 
 The caution prest. Within these verdant bounds 
 Dwell safely : — Worse than death beyond them lies ! — 
 
 Intrusion shall not find you. Here enjoy 
 Envied communion unrestrain'd : — Myself, . . 
 E'en to myself severe, . . shall wait the hour 
 Of willing invitation, nor be bold 
 To break upon your privilege repose.'" 
 
 He said — then, - - revVence paid, - - with princely grace, 
 And speed, preventing thanks, forsook the place. 
 
 XLIL 
 
 Yon bleeding Chiefs arrive . . . and greet a Friend 
 In the dread Captor, till their anguish end ; 
 While evVy noble Dame, that to the war 
 Her Lord companion'd, felt his fosfring care. 
 
 But gallant Montmorenci, o'er the rest, 
 The virtue of his Victor loud-confest. 
 With health and comfort in his pitying hand, 
 Oft by the wounded Youth behold him stand : — 
 " Be cheer'd I" he cries ; " each hurt shall give thee fame- 
 Hurts . . honour'd by Matilda's healing Name." — 
 
74 THE CAPTIVE?. 
 
 BOOK II, 
 
 Those barbed words exulcerate the harms 
 
 Of him - - best Champion of Matilda's charms : — 
 
 " Doth he, with conquest crown'd, the Nymph adore ? — 
 
 Her vanquish'd Knight . . no hope shall med'cine more !" — 
 
 Yet searching balms prevail'd upon his pains : — 
 
 Health, - - not content, - - the pining Youth regains. — 
 
 Ransom, anon, gives warrant to depart : — 
 Thanks on his tongue, and sadness in his heart, 
 
 He goes but, while he goes, in thought returns : — 
 
 Once felt, the nourish'd hope within his bosom burns. 
 
 END OF BOOK II. 
 
75 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 RURAL PLEASURES. THE DEMON-WOOD, 
 
 RURAL PLEASURES. 
 I. 
 
 Meantime, in light captivity abide 
 
 Those royal Dames ; and still their saintly Sire 
 Calms, with Religion's voice, the deep desire, 
 
 That much for freedom, — more for Richard, sigh'd. 
 
 Happy their lot on this enchanted Ground, . . 
 
 Might happiness, with vassalage, be found ! — 
 
 Yet lovely Nature, . . ablest to relieve 
 
 The loaded heart, and with pure joys expand, 
 Anon would vindicate her soft command, 
 
 And bid the labVing bosom cease to heave. — 
 
 Oft, ere the Tyrant-Sun in strength arose, 
 
 And oft, when lenient Evening brought repose, 
 They left their canopies of princely state, 
 Where bending slaves the motion'd will await, . . . 
 
 CalPd forth to meet the Zephyrs as they rose, 
 
76 RURAL PLEASURES. 
 
 JiOOK II] 
 
 Dispensing shade, and sweets, where Nature wild 
 Shakes her full horn of opulence around, 
 All trees, all fruits, and evYy flowV, abound. 
 Here, stoops her precious burden to the ground 
 
 Th** immortal Plant that once in Eden smil'd : — 
 
 Thence, from her breath ambrosial airs arise ; 
 
 Thence, flame her blossoms with cerulean dyes. 
 
 There, Lebanon, thy Cedar, - - during still, 
 
 Still heart-whole, when a thousand years and more 
 Have seen him stand, and heard his branches roar, - - 
 
 At blazing Noon, throws twilight round his Hill : — 
 
 When Summer shot the heats that kill, 
 
 Under his mighty wings they rang'd at will ; 
 Itself a Tree was evYy limb he bore. 
 Here, oft, Matilda, with her lov'd Lennore, 
 Together hiding from the furious Day, 
 In softly-pensive converse charm'd away 
 Their banish'd hours, — nor Hope withheld her store. 
 
 II. 
 
 Lo, now, . . oblivious of the Captive's pain, 
 As the cool hours their benison bestow, 
 
 With gentle pace yon breezy Height they gain, 
 (Xer-lording wide the Paradise below. 
 
 They turn : — Delight pours in at evYy vein, 
 
book in. RURAL PLEASURES. 77 
 
 While transformations ever new 
 
 The glist'ning sight suffuse with tender dew. 
 O to embalm yon beauties in my strain, . . 
 
 Warm with the golden blush of Ev'ning bland, 
 
 That, parting, smiles angelic o'er the land ! — 
 Rock, Wood, Lake, Mountain, purple Vale, - - 
 The cliff with tow'rs adorn'd, with cots the dale, - - 
 And spooming barks, o'er Ocean's endless Plain, 
 
 Bound with Magnificence their lofty Stand ! — 
 It was a View, Despondency to cheer, . . 
 
 Where Awful, Splendid, Savage, and Serene, 
 
 Made lawless harmony, — the daring Scene 
 There, bright with bursts of glory, - - shrouded, here, 
 In rude, romantic, shadows drear, . . 
 Whence, rising wild, a far-off sound 
 Told of the Torrent's course profound. — 
 At ev'ry look, they long to stray 
 Where Nature's free-born Children take their play ! . . 
 For ev'ry dell, with happy Things that move 
 Is living, . . . ev'ry secret copse with love. 
 And oft those feather'd mates that left their shades, 
 Where light seem'd lost in wand'ring through the glades, 
 Blithe-circuited their vast aerial Room ; 
 And ever, as the wanton Flights are seen 
 To catch the sunny sheen, 
 A thousand glancing jewels change from plume to plume ! 
 
78 RURAL PLEASURES. hook nr. 
 
 III. 
 
 Here finding oriental fables true, 
 They feel the vital fountain dart 
 Sprightlier currents from the heart! — 
 Exchanging many a vivid look, the while, 
 Where Adoration lightens in a smile, 
 Cer charm, by charm, with pausing, speechless view, 
 They wander, . . and the less'ning scenes pursue, 
 Crowded in rich confusion, many a mile, 
 To their last faint farewell in swimming distance blue. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Absorb'd they stood, - - while hours were on the race. — 
 At length, each fair Enthusiast, . . fal'n on roses, 
 
 To muse upon the marvels of the Place, . . 
 
 Her eye, still painted with the scene, reposes. — 
 
 Now Fancy waking, loose and free, 
 Holds intellectual revelry, 
 And o'er the willing, passive mind, 
 Weaves her etherial web refiVd, 
 Of images mysterious wrought, - - 
 The subtler elements of Thought, — 
 Up-calling fast in many a swarm, 
 Of nameless kind, and viewless form, 
 
book in. RURAL PLEASURES. 79 
 
 The light, elastic, mingling train, 
 
 That haunt the visionary brain. — 
 
 What nimble sight should here prevail 
 
 To seize the colours fleet, and frail, 
 
 As Mind, and Matter, . . . Truth, and Air, . . . 
 
 Shift into glitt'ring pictures rare 
 
 The golden scheme — the quick desire — 
 
 The purpose . . warm and wild as fire — 
 
 The flushing hopes . . without their fears — 
 
 The fairy-glimpse of infant years — 
 
 The magic, momentary gleam 
 
 Of joys, . . . uncertain whence they beam, - - 
 
 From former world, or earthly dream — 
 
 Joys . . on the lighted soul full-sent 
 
 In strange delirious ravishment ! 
 
 V. 
 
 Anon, upon the Trance intrude 
 Imagination's darker Brood, 
 That shade the melancholy mood — 
 The cloud of apprehended harm — 
 The Conscience, fertile in alarm — 
 The quiv'ring sigh of cherish'd woe, 
 Imprison'd long, . . escaping slow, 
 That in its passage breathes away 
 Each airy palace, late so gay — 
 
80 RURAL PLEASURES. 
 
 Entwin'd Affection's fond review, 
 
 That scarce the heart may dare pursue, 
 
 Of days, in tender counsel past, 
 
 (Elysian days . . too fair to last !) — 
 
 Scenes, lock'd in MemVy's moonlight-cells, 
 
 Where yearning, wistful, sadness dwells, 
 
 Recalling those that wake no more, 
 
 In killing freshness, as of yore, 
 
 And lingVing still o'er evVy grace 
 
 Familiar lov'd in form or face, - - 
 
 The living look, — the treasur'd smile, — 
 
 The talking eye, — the playful wile, — 
 
 The voice, restoring true, and clear, 
 
 Its long-lost music to the ear, — 
 
 The vivid spark, . . in moments kind 
 
 Struck by the touch of mind and mind, — 
 
 The confidence without control, 
 
 Unhoarding all the secret soul--- 
 
 These . . . Fancy's cheat ! . . . seem still their own ;- 
 
 But, ah, Death melts not at the moan 
 
 Of drooping Friendship left alone ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 Then livelier Forms come smiling on, 
 Of dear Ones, . . but in absence gone :— 
 
 
book in. RURAL PLEASURES. 81 
 
 'Tis now they feel the bosom rise 
 
 In lighter, shorter, - - thankful sighs ; — 
 
 'Tis here they learn, with sweet relief, 
 
 The true Philosophy of Grief : 
 
 To mourning Mortals, here below, 
 
 She sings . . " The same rough hand of woe 
 
 That tears one Fondling from the breast, 
 
 With closer tie should bind the Rest."" 
 
 By thee, poor Maid ! were felt severe, 
 The bosom- thrill . . th' unbidden tear . . 
 Eluding Duty's jealous eye ; — 
 Till, drowned in heav'nly musings high, 
 She caught, instead, the holy glow 
 That sublimated Spirits know. 
 Now, fiYd with transport more intense, 
 Her lifted soul expands immense, - - 
 With conscious buoyancy disdains 
 To linger in corporeal chains, 
 And seeks, with larger, loftier flight, 
 
 The unknown Upward Climes of Light 
 
 That mock the stretch of mortal sight, 
 With Hallelujah ringing wide, 
 From Saint and Seraph glorified ! 
 
% RURAL PLEASURES. book i 
 
 VII. 
 
 0'er-strain , d, at last, by that exalting hour, 
 They feel the high-turfd fibres drop their pow'r, - - 
 And through faPn lids, with desultory glance, 
 Behold th' Arcadian scenes in visual dance, 
 Now losing sweet, . . now sweet-possessing, . . 
 Pleasures, the languid sense caressing, 
 That heighten with ideal dyes, - - 
 Help with imagin'd harmonies, - - 
 
 Each lulling sight, and sound, from Earth and Skies. — 
 Slow-moving boughs, to vacant Fancy dear, 
 CTer-heard in swelling whispers with the gale, 
 
 Till, gradual, drowsing into silent rest 
 
 Clear Falls, that vanish down the dale, 
 Now secret-sunk, . . now in coy rills confest 
 Soft-warbled Minstrelsy, remote, or near, 
 From choicest birds, by gladness taught to sing 
 
 Through all the cloudless yea^s Idalian Spring, ! 
 
 Full many a rural note, from herd, or swain, 
 
 To the charm'd ear up-stealing from the plain 
 
 With genial airs, the tingling nerve to greet, 
 From off the sea fresh-blowing smooth and sweet, — 
 All, all, in Jubilee divine, conspire 
 To fill their hearts with joyance past desire, 
 While thus, with kindly lassitude opprest, 
 They feel the sylvan PowVs conspire to make them blest ! 
 
 
jok in. RURAL PLEASURES. « 
 
 VIII, 
 'Tis o'er ! — With creeping, balmy fall, 
 Forgetf ulness o'er- shadows all. 
 Dissolv'd in slumber as they lie, 
 The fainter traces gently die 
 Of things confus'dly known before, . . 
 Fears that sink, or hopes that soar, — 
 Nature, spread in all her prime, — 
 Earth beneath, and Heav'n sublime,— 
 Past, and passing, Place, and Time. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Thus mov'd along, - -now tranquil, now in pain, - - 
 The length'ning hours. From day to anxious day, 
 Their eyes inquire what Courier on the way 
 Calls them to dwell with Liberty again. 
 One dear desire Lennora's heart possest : — 
 " Give Richard, Heav'n ! — Thy will dispose the rest!" — 
 Matilda's bosom seem'd a dark'ning void ; 
 While fears, . . . yea very hopes, . . . her peace destroy'd. 
 What hopes ? — What fears ? — She dares not seek to know- 
 
 This, only, sure on either hand is woe. — 
 
 And is it sin to thank the genVous care, 
 
 That fans Captivity with Freedom's air ? — 
 
 No — 'Twere a sin, should Friendship not be there : — 
 
 But, though her breast for many a friend makes room, 
 
 These . . come, and go : — One still remains at home. 
 
84 RURAL PLEASURES. book hi. 
 
 Ah ! could that heart the lurking truth avow, . . . 
 Accusing drops had started on her brow ! — 
 Yet whence that One, in faithful mem'ry warm ? — 
 Whence, e'en in prayV, the still-returning Form ? — 
 Thus Conscience question^. Faltring, she replied . . 
 " Yon holy Sire, my earthly Guard, and Guide, 
 Hath warn'd of fearful perils that impend, 
 From Man, the worst. — -O shelter me, sweet HeaVn ! — 
 
 If Man I fear, then, Man, in Pagan form, 
 
 Should fright me more — this Pagan, most of all. > 
 Yes — graven here, his image let me keep, . . . 
 So practising to brave him, when he comes 
 With formidable graces, to adorn 
 
 Foul mischief whatsoe'er that mischief be. 
 
 His outward Shape ! — O 'tis the painted fruit 
 
 Warn'd of by Heav'n corruption all within ! — 
 
 If, through his darkness, Virtue seem to shine, - - 
 Such glimnTrings, oft, the 'nighted Traveller 
 Sees with glad hope, and follows on ... to death V 
 
 X. 
 
 Thus, on a day, Matild had searclVd her heart, . . 
 
 Yet undiscover'd left the rebel-part, 
 
 When, from Himself, a prostrate slave implores 
 Leave for his Master to approach the doors. — 
 The Queen, . . confus'dly pond'ring, . . bows assent : — 
 The Virgin stands, in dumb devotion bent. 
 
book in. RURAL PLEASURES. 
 
 With ardency control'd, the Hero came : — 
 One he addrest - - but watch'd another Dame. 
 Erelong, he mark'd Lennora's meaning eye, . . 
 Interpreter of many a deep-drawn sigh, -- 
 And to the silent question gave reply : 
 
 " Great Richard lives, . . with laurels on his brow. 
 What ills the Sarazen encounters, he 
 Plans, or inflicts. E'en now, to front his force, 
 I gather the recruiting strength of war. 
 Nay, startle not : — the Mightiness of Richard 
 Recks not the frown of Danger. — For yourselves, 
 High Queen !— Embellish'd Maiden !— HalWd Sire ! 
 Look for deliv'rance. Richard learns from me 
 Your fortunes, . . and shall soon rejoice again.'" 
 
 The Queen, with smiles of tearful rapture, shews 
 How genial at her heart the promise glows. 
 The Maid blush 'd praises on the Captor's deed, 
 And secret sigh'd, . . " Conversion be thy meed !" — 
 
 He parts - - and, parting, leaves a look behind, 
 Whence emanates, discover'd, all his mind. 
 Th' unerring glance yon tender Virgin found : — 
 So shrinks a rose-bud at the lightning's wound. 
 
 The Sage notes all, and, to defeat the snare, 
 
 Erects his mind, unyielding to Despair. 
 Taught by his eye, Lennora joins her powV, 
 To counter-work the perils of the hour. 
 
86 
 
 RURAL PLEASURES. hook hi. 
 
 XI. 
 
 " O Friends V the Father cries, u too sure I find 
 What ruin threatens here ; for I do know 
 Yon Arab, and his life. Once, in a pause 
 Of enmity, on me the fortune fell 
 To labour in the ministry of peace. 
 Yon Warrior was my Host ; and then I saw - - 
 These eyes the lawless Unbeliever saw, - - 
 Voluptuous revelling amid the spoil 
 Of Christian Beauty. Fortune crowned him still 
 In love, or battle :— Yea, the noblest Fair 
 Dropp'd all resistance at his conq'ring smile. — 
 
 Matild ! . . If thou dost think on bliss in Heav'n, 
 Read, here, thine awful warning ! — Shun the snare 
 Before thee, and thine innocence uphold." 
 
 So said, - - he left, aghast, the Virgin there, 
 And, for her safety, pour'd his soul in pray'r. 
 
 XII. 
 
 One sultry Morn, the Queen, and royal Maid, 
 
 Sate in the cool, beneath a favoring Shade, 
 
 When, at their feet, a breathless Nymph behold, 
 As from Pursuers flown. — By Grief made bold, 
 Hither, by secret ways, unknown she came, 
 And, mournful, thus addrest the nobler Dame : 
 
book in. RURAL PLEASURES. 87 
 
 " Great Queen ! A wretched Woman, - - Scorn of all, - - 
 Hopeless on Earth, and alienate from Heav'n, - - 
 To joy, to honour, to a Kingdom, lost, - - 
 Thy help implores. Exalted once I stood, 
 Mocking the shafts of Envy, — till the day 
 When Hadel found me, and, with serpent-art 
 Beguiling, . . . folded with a serpent's coil. — 
 Poison'd, yet pleas'd, the sickness of the soul 
 I felt — I nourish'd : — Loving my Destroyer, 
 I lov'd e'en my destruction. From that hour, 
 My throne, my glory, and my God, abjuring, 
 For sin, and shame, . . I have surviv'd my peace. 
 
 His transient love withdrawn, — from year to year 
 Condemn'd in yon polluted walls to pine, 
 I linger in despair, and slowly waste 
 By Mem'ry's mortal sting. All tongues proclaim, 
 
 To what Enchantress from these arms he flies 
 
 Britain's fair Princess : — lovelier than the morn 
 
 All tongues avouch her. — Pardon, if I err 
 
 Nay, sure, the Maid that meets my wond'ring view* 
 E'en now, alone may boast Matilda's name." — 
 Instinctive ris'n, a conscious flood ran o'er 
 Yon world of charms, and Agnes doubts no more. 
 
 Pausing awhile, then tow'rd the Vestal turn'd, . . 
 " Fame, who hath painted with a hand so true 
 That peerless form, gives lavishly, beside, 
 
88 RURAL PLEASURES. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 The guards, and graces, that make Beauty blest, — 
 Else would I fain be bolder than beseems 
 A Suppliant, . . and of Hadel bid beware !" 
 
 Then, to the Queen : — " Illustrious as thou art, 
 In virtue, as in blood, - - accord my prayer ! 
 Give shelter to my woes, till Heav'n shall aid 
 My longing hope, conceal'd in arms, to find 
 
 Some distant land there, in a convent-cell, 
 
 With bitter floods to clear my stain away, 
 And dedicate my silent hours to Heav'n." 
 
 Touch'd, as she heard, the pitying Queen complies : — 
 The Stranger to her safe asylum flies. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 'Twas Night. Matilda's dreams to visions gay 
 Transform'd the dark realities of Day ; — 
 When shrilling sounds of agony, distrest 
 Her slumber'd ear, . . and tore the bands of rest. — 
 From wretched Agnes broke the neighVring sound : — 
 Matild, with helpful speed, the sufferer found. — 
 Sweet Maid ! Thine innocence would trace in vain 
 Tormented Conscience through the round of pain ! — 
 Constant, as Midnight's lonely hour returns, 
 In Agnes" 1 breast the rousing venom burns. — 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 RURAL PLEASURES. 8 9 
 
 Ee'n now, she tost through Passion's ev'ry stage, 
 From stiffening Terror, to remorseless rage ; 
 While each tumultuous conflict full-betray'd 
 Her soul's recesses to the shuddering Maid. 
 Now, from her lips alarms of vengeance ring — 
 Now, on herself the Scorpion turns her sting. 
 On ev'ry* Name, her unconsid'ring ire 
 Darts execration . . while her eyes look fire ! 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Soon as the soft Matilda reached her view, . . 
 On her, full-driv'n, the loud revilings flew : 
 Nor Penitence, nor Fear, is now the mood - - 
 And, if she weep, . . . Hell's Furies boil the flood ! 
 
 " Ill-boding Pest !— Sleek Viper !— Is it thou 
 That dar'st be near me — thou, whose cunning spells 
 Have train'd that God — that Monster, from my arms? — 
 Blight on you both ! — For thee, . . thy doom is nigh ! — 
 Soon shall the glozing Traitor spurn thee off- - 
 While Agnes laughs at thy distraction. — Hence ! . . . 
 Nor with triumphant pity goad my madness, 
 That leaves its work to Hadel : — He, I bless him ! 
 Shall surfeit with rich banquets of revenge 
 This heart, that howls, and hungers, for its food ; — 
 If not, - - beware of harm ! — beware of Me ! — 
 Out, - - Sorc'ress !" . . at the word up-starting fierce, . . 
 
90 RURAL PLEASURES. book hi. 
 
 " Out ! - - lest the raging Devils that stir within me 
 
 Tear thee to shreds, . . and blast my fondled hope 
 
 To see thee lingVing ! — Fly ! . . but dread me still, - - 
 
 Nor think to find so dark a hiding-place, 
 
 E'en in the caverns of yon Demon- Wood, 
 
 But these deep-darted nails shall hook thee forth !— 
 
 Then, as I pull thee piece-meal, . . . thank thy Beauty ! — 
 
 Wretch ! Dost thou brave my rage ? Nay then I'll have the( 
 
 So said, - - the Maniac, like a tigress flown 
 At the meek Maid, all friendless and alone, 
 Each tender charm had harrow^ and defac'd 
 
 With wild assault but through infuriate haste 
 
 Prostrate she fell ... in death-like stupor cast. 
 
 XV. 
 
 While thus black Jealousy,— and scorned Love, — 
 And Hatred, up to foaming frenzy wrought, — 
 And conscious Guiltiness, . . the rack of Thought, — 
 
 With restless tyranny, their Victim drove, 
 
 Matilda . . voiceless, motionless, remain'd, 
 Her senses by confounding Horror chain'd. — 
 At length, to life restor'd by very dread, 
 She wakes, as in the Charnels of the Dead — 
 Starts off- - and, all-unconscious of her flight, 
 Wild-hurries from the Dome, and trusts her to the Night 
 
 
book in. RURAL PLEASURES. 91 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Rous'd by the noise of Rage without control, 
 Good Wilhelm came, with med'cines for the soul : 
 Weak, and more weak, th' uncertain sounds arise, 
 That guide him to the couch where Anguish lies. — 
 
 The Violence was o'er : — Her tiring Foe 
 Had left her, pow'rless, in the gripe of Woe. 
 Scarce on the Sage a languid look she bent, 
 As Life, through all its functions, flagged, o'erspent. 
 
 By old experience lesson'd, well he knew 
 To catch the fav'ring moment as it flew. — 
 Mild as an Angel borne on Pity's wings, 
 The balm of comfort on his lips he brings, — 
 But ere he point where hopes of health begin, 
 
 Probes deep the venom'd, rankling wounds within 
 
 Softens, by smooth degrees, the flinty part, 
 And steals confession from the laboring heart. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Each guilty secret in his ear confest, - - 
 With painful courage he performs the rest. — 
 Rapt as in embassy from Heav'n he stands, - - 
 And, raising tow'rd that Heav'n his awful hands, 
 Reveals how Judgment darkens in the sky, 
 O'er all, whose works Jehovah's Name deny, — 
 
92 RURAL PLEASURES. boc 
 
 Reads, from the Book of Life, what pains await 
 Unchristian love . . . and more unchristian hate, — 
 Paints her fal'n self, . . . now black in withering scorn, - 
 Erewhile, a Virgin pure, for Empire born — 
 Empire on Earth, . . and a celestial crown, 
 When God shall cast her tinsel Kingdoms down. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Thus through the Sinner's heart he strove to force 
 The salutary punctures of remorse. — 
 Long time, his apostolic toils were vain, . . 
 Nor, yet, came down Contrition's kindly rain. — 
 It falls at last ! — He hails the kindly show'r, 
 And hastens to apply th' atoning Pow'r — 
 Uplifts her soul, . . and opens through the skies 
 A shoreless Deep of Mercy to her eyes : — 
 Repentance is the Passage — Christ " the Door :" — 
 Whoe'er through Him, the " Great Reward" implore, 
 Bask in the smile of God, . . seen brightening evermore ! 
 
93 
 
 THE DEMON-WOOD. 
 
 Meantime, by glimpse of moon, Matilda fled, 
 Still carrying in her ear those ravings dread, - - 
 
 And like the dove, whose agitated wing 
 
 Would save her from the falcon's eager spring, 
 To some far shelter of concealment sped. — 
 
 Grave-suited Night ! Let Murder find thee dire, 
 'Mid spectres of th' untimely-parted Dead, . . 
 Or Shapes from Hell, set, punctual, round his bed, 
 
 Flashing their brands, and threatening penal fire ! — 
 With her, that knew no taint of mortal sin, 
 
 Alas ! too well thy cloking shades agree — 
 This, all her prayV : " Heav'n, send thy beams within, -- 
 
 Nor give yon Basilisk my path to see !" — 
 
 While Slumber lays the World in calm delight, 
 The Maid, . . pursuing still her devious flight, . . 
 
 In breath, or shadow, - - bush, or quiv'ring tree, - - 
 Views, hears, but Agnes, — oft, in frantic fear 
 
 Starting around oft, catching, on her way, 
 
 Herb, or wild fruit oft, sunk with toil severe, 
 
 Resting, perforce. — At length, ere dawn of Day, 
 Yon Wood she gains. ■ 
 
94 THE DEfaON-WOOD. 
 
 O seek not refuge there, 
 
 Sad Virgin ! . . nor forget the warning cry 
 That bade thy steps to fly 
 That Forest ! — Better meet thy raving Foe, 
 Than penetrate yon doom'd Recess of Woe, 
 That not the deep-retiring Owl dares know ! — 
 Be true, or feign'd, what Heathen-Records tell, -■-- 
 HeavVs Wrath, in times of yore, on all the Region fell.— 
 
 XX. 
 
 A Garden, once, it was, for pleasanee born^ 
 And, in perennial bloom, 
 Blest hills and vallies with perfume, — 
 Till Ribaulds, in reclusest bow'rs within, 
 
 Held their detested Orgies Rites of Sin, 
 
 Drawn through the night, . . nor ending with the morn.- 
 At length, supernal Vengeance burnt around 
 Against that Crew, . . and smote the guilty Ground. — 
 Behold it, since, a hagard bosky Wild, 
 
 Struck desolate where crooked paths beguil'd ! — 
 
 For lovely flow'rs, ... far other shoots are found : — 
 In squander'd heaps o'ergrown, and thriv'n in shame, 
 Weed, stifling weed, — stems, bristling high in'air, — < 
 All rank neglected beggVy, without name, — 
 Usurped the Place — thy heritage, Despair ! — 
 Minding the heedless Pilgrim to beware, 
 
 
book in. THE DEMON-WOOD. 95 
 
 (Should Fate mislead him to these Purlieus dread, 
 
 Where Heroes might forget their hardihood !) 
 Fang'd thorn, and many a ruthless briar, stain' d red 
 
 With blood, by Ruffians drawn, defenc'd the Wood. — 
 E'en Ruffians long had shunn'd th' unfriendly bound. 
 
 From age to age unvisited of Day, 
 
 All Nature, as in dark dejection, lay : 
 No human face is there — no earthly sound — 
 A dumb, dull, stagnant Horror . . buries all around ! 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Such was yon Holt — a Banishment unblest ! — 
 There the worn Maid arriving, . . dim-beheld, 
 Through hideous jungles, all disjointed forms, - - 
 As blown to wrack in some wild War of Storms, 
 Ere yet primeval Anarchy was quelTd ! — 
 Appal'd she stood : — The Warning smote her breast : — 
 But, at the voice of Agnes, heard behind, 
 ('Twas but a surly sough from the hoarse wind,) 
 Desperately shooting through a trackless glade, 
 With random-purpose, - - on, far on, she prest, 
 Where'er those villain-labyrinths betray'd 
 Her unacquainted feet, — still dreading rest, 
 And Heavn imploring still her cry to hear, 
 Wide-wander'd round through desert-walks of Fear, 
 Amid the creeks, and curves, of many a wildering shade. 
 
96 THE DEMON-WOOD. b< 
 
 XXII. 
 
 While thus Matilda far'd, ere yet were known 
 Her hapless wand'rings, — at the call of Love, 
 Great Hadel sought the Dome, - - his plea to move, 
 And make that unpeer'd Excellence his own.— 
 Ent'ring, he greets the Queen : — How tame the joy !- 
 In vain his eye demands another Form. — 
 The thwarted Chief, with disappointment warm, 
 Awhile, in silent pangs, endued th' annoy. 
 
 Obsequious to his look, that shew'd a storm, 
 Lennora sought the Maid. — Erelong, a scream 
 Of sharp affliction, broke his happy dream : — 
 " Gone ! Gone !" the Sister cried, in wild affright, - . 
 So taught by signs that mark'd Matilda's flight. — 
 The Warrior heard. Confusion seiz'd his brain, . . 
 And wide he searched, and loud he calPd, - - in vain !- 
 Good Wilhelm caught th" unquiet sounds from far ; 
 He came — partook the wonder, - - the despair — 
 Told of the Night's alarm, - - and brief confest 
 What Turbulence had late assaiTd his rest. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 
 Enough ! — The Lover's eye, with piercing ray, 
 Hath all discover'd. Bounding from the door, 
 His winged feet the large domains run o'er. — 
 
 FoiPd not subdued. " For yonder Wood away !" — 
 
BOOK 111. 
 
 THE DEMON-WOOD. 97 
 
 Yon Wood ! — No direr sound could strike his ear ! 
 The Wood of Demons ! — Thus Tradition old 
 Still breathes the name, - - with auguries, half-told 
 
 By Mage, and sacred Imauni. — Graven drear, 
 
 In words, to Hadel big with fear, 
 
 Thus runs the roll : — 
 
 " S&fcat timt, on fate's inevitable Sporn, 
 & Prince, of Saracenic lineage fcom, 
 pon moon &£ enter,— enr'ring, sljall erplore,— 
 Bg Demons met, %i 43II be founn no more. 
 Cen from tljat Ijottr, tfce jfortune, Prine, ana ifame, 
 £>f Gratis, - e t^e People, ano t&e j^ame, * - 
 <S>$att foane, ano tnit|er:— dietor? sfjall flg 
 %ty Crescent, . . ann tfje EeluCtoss foatoe on Ijis&." 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 And doth he know, and will he meet, his Doom ? — 
 He knows - - he dares - - all Destinies to come. 
 Look where he stands, yon fatal Wood before ! — 
 
 Hush ! Did her voice in distant tremblings die ? — 
 
 Led by the woeful music of that cry, 
 
 Through each forgotten path he scours along, . . 
 Tough stub and spiky bramble stamping down ; 
 Wide-ranging, where the mouldered cave cowls o'er, 
 
 H 
 
98 THE DEMON-WOOD. book hi. 
 
 Ahd where harsh brakes, and wrangling thickets, throng. 
 Old sturdy Growths, that here for ever frown. 
 In vain, from out their shadows brown, 
 Athwart his peremptory passage flung 
 Their breadth of arms uncouth, embattled strong : 
 As well with rushes bar th' o'erflooding Nile ! — 
 He, . . all of unsubmitting vigour made, . . 
 (Matilda's name loud-rung through ev'ry glade,) 
 Still drives without repose, - - devouring many a mile. 
 
 But see ! What fluttering gleam illumes the Place ? — 
 
 Love's Angel prompted, . . " There conclude thy chase !" — 
 Swifter than my recording verse he flies, 
 And lightens, like a Comet, on her eyes ! 
 
 XXV. 
 
 His look was ardent : — the high-flaming hue 
 Of ecstasy, that o'er his visage flew, 
 Deceiv'd her, . . . and the dire delusion gave 
 
 Thoughts that allow'd no refuge, but the grave !— 
 
 Though deaden'd by long hours of painful coil, 
 The terror-stricken Virgin starts away 
 With lighter speed, — more dreading such delay, 
 Than through those formidable shades to stray, 
 'Mid perils yet untried, and harder toil. — 
 Joy, crost with Anger, in his bosom strove : — 
 " This the requital of laborious love ?" — 
 
 hqa iadW 
 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 THE DEMON-WOOD. 99 
 
 Now Pride would linger — Love now follow'd warm — 
 His eye still constant to the flying Form : — 
 It vanishes ! — His doubts are lost in air ! — 
 Poor Trembler ; yield the contest in despair ! — 
 Beyond her, in a moment, sprang the Knight, - - 
 Then, turning, with a touch restraint her flight. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 With scatter'd sense,— o'er-wearied, — scar'd, — opprest, — 
 Scarce conscious of the thoughts that, without rest, 
 
 Pour'd through her mind, - - yet strong-remenuVring still 
 The PowV, whose Name was templed in her breast, 
 
 She caird for aid against impending ill. 
 The fragrant incense of that pray'r arose : — 
 Through her clear soul celestial comfort flows, 
 Nor weariness, nor terror, more she knows. — \ 
 Thus fortified, ... the Vestal turn'd a look, 
 
 Whence Virtue beani'd austere, against the brow 
 Of him, whose arm, audacious, twin'd her frame, — 
 Demanding, in her God's prevailing name, 
 
 Deliv'rance from his touch. — Behold him bow ! — 
 Such bidding, from his heart all firmness took. — 
 Recov'ring speech, he cries, . . . " Resplendent Creature, 
 With whom Perfection came from Heav , n to dwell, 
 And from that Sun, thy Soul, diffuses bright 
 
 O'er thy sweet body, gifts without a name, 
 
 What spell encircles thee, whose wondVous powV 
 
100 THE DEMON-WOOD. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 Disarms, . . controls, . . enthrals me, as I gaze ? — 
 
 Nay — stand not thus in rooted Majesty, . . 
 
 Nor damp, with looks of Horror, Love's pure fires !" 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 " Pagan, avoid me !" . . awful she replies, 
 " Nor wound a consecrated Virgin's ear 
 With thine unhallow'd speech. — What 6 fires' are those 
 
 Thou dar'st to name ... I may not, will not, know 
 
 Lost Agnes knows too well ! 
 
 Yet, since thou hast not made me feel, till now, 
 A Conq'ror's pow'r, - - in Richard's noble name 
 I thank thee. — For myself, I value not 
 The terrors . . true, or fabled, . . threat'ning here, - - 
 Nor what worse purposings thy lawless thought 
 May weave against me. Innocence hath Friends 
 
 Thou dream'st not of yea, One, whose very Name 
 
 Hath made thy Demons tremble, . . and whose breath 
 Can thee destroy. — Him would I have thee know; — 
 To Him, Who, late, hath heard me, thus I pray : — 
 May Christian Truth, vouchsaf d thee from above, 
 Shine on thy soul, and light thee on to bliss ! — 
 No ! — Not to me thy worship, - - claim'd alone 
 By Him, whose Grace . . to ask, is to receive — 
 Whom all the Sanctities of Heav'n adore. 
 
 If I may trust thee now, direct my feet 
 In safety hence, . . and, if thou canst, unravel 
 
book in. THE DEMON-WOOD. 101 
 
 The tangled windings of this fearful Wood. 
 Restore me to the Queen, whose bitter tears 
 
 Bewail my loss and, chiefly, give thy care, 
 
 That Agnes, and Matilda, have their place, 
 Where Neither may behold the other more." 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 The Prince, . . a forward Slave to her desire, 
 
 Vow'd full obedience, — then, with anxious mind, 
 Full-turning to the moment, left behind 
 
 All richer hopes, till Time, and Fate conspire. 
 
 Now, having won her hesitating hand, 
 No longer he delays, 
 
 But, as the wary Pilot shuns the sand, 
 
 Leads back the Maid, by safer-seeming ways, 
 
 Though oft, in rude obstruction found, 
 
 Wildings perverse, and splintery stunts, abound. — 
 
 At evVy turn, his hand is there, 
 
 Her undetermin , d steps upholding still, . . 
 
 While boisfrous boughs before the sabre fly : — 
 O'er plash, or plain, or up the breathless hill, 
 His happier arms, . . though long denied their will, . . 
 
 Beauty's reclining Form triumphant bear. — 
 As weariness return'd, her patient eye 
 Sought succour from Above, — and succour still was nigh. 
 
102 THE DEMON-WOOD. book hi. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 While thus, with heedful pace, they mov'd along, 
 The Warrior flash'd his glow'ring eyes around, 
 If damage dar'd approach, in sight, or sound, — 
 Collected stood, and grip'd his falchion strong. 
 E'en so, of yore, in Colin's witching song, 
 While spotless Una pierc'd the gloamin-shade, 
 Where many an eldritch Form her spright affray'd, 
 Fast by the Nymph her Savage-Guardian stood, 
 Rousing the horrors of his dang'rous hair 
 At Beast, or grinning Satyr, couchant there, - - 
 And oft his wakeful wrath went roaring through the Wood. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 
 By darkening dells, and tracts that never smile, 
 They progress'd. — Hope sustain'd the Maid awhile, . . 
 
 And Woman's trust in Man for guidance true 
 
 Till Mem'ry told no longer, whence they came ! — 
 In all their vagrant course, fresh hindrance grew: — 
 
 Help fail'd : — No trodden path, . . no rural Dame, . . 
 To Man's abodes inviting, blest their view ! — 
 And oft, those moody Solitudes behind, 
 
 Lay slugging, gross and dank, a deathly fume 
 
 From quags fallacious, regions all unkind, 
 
 Swart moor, and sedgy fen, that still repin'd, 
 Since Judgment on each fertile field of bloom 
 Her malediction wrote . . . nor e'er hath ras'd the doom. 
 
book in. THE DEMON-WOOD. 103 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Recoiling thence, . . . through flexures intricate 
 
 They double without end — false paths pursue-— 
 And seem inextricably maz'd by Fate : 
 
 Search, no remission finds Escape, no clue ! — 
 
 Behold them ent'ring yonder streight, — ? 
 
 A Gap, where over-meeting bank, and brow, 
 
 Protuberate, with all their leafy store. 
 Advancing still, those rugged roofs below, 
 The Wand'rers, cumber'd sore 
 By many a crazy bough's impending weight, 
 
 Probe the drear Pass. O, there, Perdition lies f— 
 Some yawning, Hell-mouth'd Pit may snatch them . . . ne'er to rise ! 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Nor Sight, nor Caution, here avails ! — 
 E'en now they reach, as HeavVs last glimmer fails, 
 A lurking chasm abstruse, . . with caldron'd linn 
 Deep-boiling, as from Earth's Tartarean womb ! — 
 Just as they totter on its treach'rous bound, . . . 
 Under the shaken soil a doubtful din 
 
 Betrays th' Abyss, — a hollow, struggling sound, 
 Low-heard - - like smother'd groanings from the tomb — ! 
 
104 THE DEMON-WOOD. book hi. 
 
 They flee : — but whither flee ? — While thus they roam, 
 When . . where . . shall brighter signs begin ? — 
 
 Darkness, in league with Danger, shuts them round, . 
 And, through remoter parts within, 
 
 Where never foot of Mortal marked the ground, 
 Snares them away tow'rd Horror's inmost Home ! — 
 If Pagan Seers tell true, 
 
 The sorc'ries, hatch'd and brooded there, 
 Would fright the Sun with deeds of blacker hue 
 
 Than tongue may syllable ! All question fly, . . . 
 
 Nor let surmising Fancy dare 
 To sound the secrets of yon damned Mew ! — 
 While, in vain travel, These their steps pursue, 
 Lost in yon Wood, of reach untold, - - 
 
 Coves, of ill omen, louring far and nigh, 
 Crowd into denser shades tenfold. 
 Still, fainter gleamings, through the pitchy air, 
 
 Those blind, embrangled avenues relume : — 
 Yet Hope, contending with Despair, 
 
 Trains them along, e'en in the jaws of Doom, 
 To seek, with reekless hazard, . . here, or there, . . 
 What vestiges may guide them back to Men. — 
 
 Absconding, now, from Day's o'er-umber'd face, 
 They dive into a deep'ning, wizard-glen, 
 
 Down the dark bowels of that Stygian Place, 
 From depth to depth - - - at each profounder pace 
 
 
book in. THE DEMON- WOOD. 105 
 
 Descending still through shrouded crypts of Death, 
 To those forbidden Vaults . . . far, far beneath ! — 
 Look downward, Heav'n ! — With helpful grace, 
 Upraise them from yon pris'ning den, 
 And lead safe thence to Light and Life again ! — 
 
 They, . . as the shagged rifts afford a space 
 Where sight may pry, . . or the pent limbs force room, . . 
 Close-hiding nooks, and dismal delves explore, — 
 Inveigled, and confounded, more and more, . . . 
 Till, grim with worse than Midnight, scowls the blackening gloom. 
 
 XXXIIL 
 
 Sweet One ! . . That penetrating moan forbear ! — 
 Who fornrd thee . . speaks no pardon to Despair. 
 Yon Chief, thy strenuous Champion here below, 
 Hath puissance from Him Who sees thy woe. — 
 
 Her Soul, once more exalted, sate in state - - 
 Less fearful of the Body's meaner fate, 
 While, with uplifted look, she still descried 
 The might of Hadel towering at her side. 
 
 'Mid wasteful Woods, - - in Battle, or in Storm, - - 
 Danger, to him, oppos'd an empty form ; 
 Nor may Despair that lording Spirit kill, 
 Which, in all fights with Fortune, conquer'd still. 
 Fears, born of Earth, attempt him all in vain ; — 
 And if prophetic scrolls perturb his brain, — 
 
106 THE DEMON-WOOD. 
 
 BOOH III. 
 
 If old Ostent, and Presage from the Dead, 
 
 Shew- Demons prowling in the paths they tread, 
 
 Religion sanctifies the solemn dread.-^- 
 Yet, in this darkest hour, his heart beats true : — 
 Bound up he stands, . . to suffer, as to do : 
 Nor aught shall drive - - though evVy Fiend be there - - 
 The colour from his cheeks-Matilda from his care. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Oft as the sigh of rising Terror stole 
 From her that held him in her soft control, 
 Such tones of heart'ning courage he addrest, 
 (While tender pity wrung his manly breast,) 
 As, with sweet magic, lull'd her mind to rest. — 
 So rais'd, — but most by comfort from Above, — 
 She points him forward - - and again they move. 
 
 Swerving, oblique, from that precipitous way, 
 Anon, with happier course, they climb the Grove. 
 
 Sight seems returning ! — Hadel bids be gay, 
 
 And cheerily salutes yon glint of Day. — 
 But soon the Maid, with desolated mind, 
 
 Up-gazing stands, in tribulation new :— 
 
 Through the dun mist she seems to view 
 Stupendous Walls, that, rising unconfin , d, 
 
 Full-stop their progress, and their hopes make void — 
 Walls . . . such as Man built never, nor destroy'd ! — 
 
book in. THE DEMON-WOOD. 107 
 
 Threat'ning aloft, . . in gaping rents torn through, 
 Stood Rocks to Heav'n ! — Such pinnacles I ween, 
 The rash-advent'ring goat ne'er yet hath crown'd ! — 
 Inhospitably barb'rous, Pine, and Yew, 
 Stout-anch'ring in the stony Solid, grew 
 
 Athwart, or prostrate. — 'Mid th' unruly Scene, 
 A thousand Forms of Peril seem to stalk around ! 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Where yonder Cliffs present them, stern and steep, 
 
 Forth stands a vet'ran Rock, by Ages min'd, 
 Should'ring the piles behind. 
 
 Reared in the midst on his unstable throne 
 In giant-sov'reignty, - - like some proud Keep, 
 
 The meaner tow'rs above, - - yon mighty Stone, 
 
 Far-beetling, over-clouds the savage gloom 
 With darkness all his own. — 
 To that sole Tor, Matilda's eyes are grown :— 
 " Heav'n shield me ! . . Can it move ! . . or does my fear - 
 It moves. Awaken'd from its iron sleep, 
 As by the viewless hand of Doom, 
 Still . . still . . the Bulk declines, with direr frown ; — . 
 Look ! - - From the base disparted sheer, 
 
 It comes in whirlwind and in thunder down ! — 
 With one horrendous crash, (Destruction's roar !) 
 
108 THE DEMON-WOOD. book hi. 
 
 Woods, Rocks, and Hills, in vollied ravage fly ! — 
 As War's whole Enginry had storm'd the sky, 
 The wild reverberations roll away 
 To distant lands, that, wondVing, feel their sway, - - 
 Bounding from realm, — from shore to shore ! — 
 
 Through these domains of darkness and dismay, 
 The slow-expiring sounds . . as, deep, they fell . . 
 
 Swung like departed Nature's closing knell ! — 
 
 Silence, at last, - - more dreadful than the noise, - - 
 Reigns o'er the ruin'd Scene, in everlasting poise. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Pre-monish'd by her ear and eye, 
 
 Matild, ere yet the sundered Rock was down, 
 Had gather'd force to fly 
 What seem'd a loos'ning Pillar of the Sky ! — 
 Hadel, . . to meet some danger sudden-grown, 
 Then, first, had left his precious Charge alone. — 
 Meantime, still hunted by affright, 
 The Maid, . . all reckless whither tends her flight, . . 
 By rambling difficult ascents hath flown 
 
 Up towVd the peaks of yon cloud-clapping Height ! — 
 There, - - scarce within the reach of sight, - - 
 
 Rock-Mountains hang their pond'rous heads, and lean, 
 As from some loftier world unknown, 
 
 O'er heights beneath, and many a sunk ravine, 
 
book in. THE DEMON-WOOD. 109 
 
 Breach'd into gulfing hollows more profound — 
 
 A Wilderness abrupt ! each headlong Ground 
 
 Freighted with Woods, that shew their tops below 
 
 Half-lost in distance deep, . . or plunge, unseen, 
 Down the blank fathomless Obscure ! — 
 
 Yon thundVings heard, the Prince, in passionate woe, 
 
 Flies round ; until, by Love directed sure, 
 He finds, aloft, th' exhausted Maid, 
 Prone on a pendent ledge unconscious laid. — 
 
 Trembling, he lifts her from that frightful sill, 
 
 Yet in each fibre feels her peril still, 
 
 Lest his rude hand its own rash help deplore, 
 And Life maintain her feeble hold no more. — 
 To see them at yon giddy brink of death, 
 False to the foot . . with emptiness beneath, 
 Makes the heart sink, and th' aching sinews thrill ! — 
 With gentlest heed behold his precious Charge 
 Safe-rested, where the brow spreads wide and large. 
 E'en as a Miser, when the thief comes nigh, 
 
 Broods on his hoard, thus he, with moveless eye, 
 
 Stands watching for the blest return of sense, 
 While pale and still she lies, with lost intelligence. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 In prospect wide, below the beaked Mound, 
 Spreads a Cimmerian vale. — Peruse it round ! — 
 
110 THE DEMON-WOOD. book hi. 
 
 
 There, Vegetation's lamentable race, 
 Of baleful berry or shade, their destin'd place 
 Inhabit, . . and, malignant, curse the Ground. — 
 From the high verge, bend down thy view 
 Straight through the heart of yon funereal space, 
 On ev'ry side by cragged barriers bound : — 
 
 There, . . hung with heaviest boughs, of bronze-like hue, 
 Sullenly pining at their perish'd green, 
 Lies a mysterious Pool. Obscurely seen, 
 It sleeps . . and sleeps . . in one broad- whelming shade, 
 Which hath not mov'd, or chang'd, e'er since the World was made 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 At length, slow-rising from her swoon, the Fair 
 With joyless eye, prophetic of all ill, 
 Hangs o'er the doleful Water, . . black, and still, 
 
 Where Thought conceives no bottom. — Harbour'd there, - 
 
 As ancient Sires reveal in falt'ring tone, - - 
 
 Are Spirits, from their nether torments flown, 
 
 Of Natures passing all, or fear'd, or known, 
 
 Of this dread Place! -— _ 
 
 Matilda, . . look not long ! — 
 
 
 Be warn'd, that whoso shall that Lake behold, 
 When Twilight throws around her sombrous fold, -ite^ 
 Some fatal fascination binds him strong ! — 
 
 
uook in. THE DEMON-WOOD. Ill 
 
 As Fancy takes the strength , ning charm, 
 Trouble, and anxious Care, and vague Alarm, 
 Involve him round :— Mirth, Dance, and Song, 
 The Loves, and Sports, and Smiles, . . a chirping Flight ! . . 
 Are gone — and the Soul droops, forgetting all delight. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 The sieging Terror now begins to swell ! — 
 Erelong, through ev'ry nerve and vein, 
 
 A rush of unimaginable dread, 
 Felt sudden, throngs his whirling brain 
 With bodements . . darker than he dares to spell ! — 
 Long works the Tempest at its height : — 
 Follows a horrid Calm. By Day, by Night, 
 Still brooding o'er that melancholy Well, 
 
 Sunk in strange, wild'ring drearihead, . . 
 While vapours gath'ring, shoal on shoal, 
 With denser condensation seem to roll, . . 
 He suffers on, deplorably resign'd, 
 As mournful Madness dungeons up the mind ! — 
 He wakes no more. — Held in that murky stound, 
 Till his long-ling'ring fate is found, 
 The stricken Wretch, self-hurl'd, 
 Falls to the gulf beneath - - - an Outcast from the World ! 
 
112 THE DEMON-WOOD. 
 
 XL. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 But now the Maid, as Twilight's witching hour 
 
 Draws o'er the welkin, in her captive mind 
 Receives, without resistance, heart, or pow'r, 
 
 Th' insidious influence, - - musing on the Mere 
 In lorn disconsolation undefin'd. — 
 On Hadel, fairer signs appear : — 
 He, from the lofty station searching round 
 As with an hundred eyes, not distant sees, 
 Amid yon sable multitude of trees, 
 Light's path, . . . and seems to hear some human sound !— 
 Deep in his breast he chain'd rebellious Joy, 
 Nor gave the hope . . whose falsehood might destroy.— 
 Turning, to raise her from yon rocky ground, 
 He view'd his Love, as in the form of woe 
 She sate, still poring on the Lake below. 
 Her sorrows are his own : — With tender fear, 
 
 Lest Night come on, with terrors yet in store, 
 He bears her down the jagged steep severe, 
 To rove (so Heav'n decree !) those rueful scenes no more. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Though foul disorder had perplex'd all trace 
 Of living haunt, yet, Life was in the Place ! — 
 
 
book in. THE DEMON-WOOD. 113 
 
 Here, in dark ambush, Things I freeze to name, 
 Of pois'nous tooth, fierce tail, and loathly frame, 
 Were moving, — spawn'd in corners, 'mid the slime 
 Of yon dead Lake ; and, now, the dusky time 
 Whispered them forth. Whatever crawl'd, or clung, 
 Hating God's light, - - all hissing Plagues unsung, - - 
 Secret and fell as Death, out-stealing prest, 
 From wicked hole, and ugly-swarming nest ! 
 
 XLII. 
 
 A moment hath he left her, to explore 
 
 The track, bright-opening on his view before. — 
 
 O mercy, Heav'n !— Fly, Hadel ! — Fly to save ! — 
 The Serpent comes ! — Fly . . or she breathes no more ! — 
 
 (The Serpent ? In that shape, his warnings told 
 
 Of Skeithan, here at wait ! — ) Behold ! 
 See where the Pest, from his abhorred cave, 
 Through subtle coverts deep, 
 With huge and heavy-rolling sweep, ■ .. . ~ 
 
 Advances ! — Mark him where he winds along 
 The rustling brake ! - - now, slinks, with softlier creep ! - - 
 Now, near . . and nearer yet . . by sly degrees 
 Is gliding through yon dingle, mask'd with trees ! — 
 That dingle's thickest shades among, 
 The lone Maid sudden sees 
 
114 THE DEMON-WOOD. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 An eye, all blood and fire, with glance that stings, 
 At her keen-pointing its infernal aim ! — 
 
 Stone-still with horror, then down-sinking slow 
 
 Before the trailing Miscreant as he came, 
 
 She died within. — No help her Champion brings ! — 
 
 Proof to her agony, th' erected Foe 
 Long o'er her head in cruel disport flings, 
 
 Twining his limber volumes to and fro : — 
 Now, gathering up his billowy length below, 
 He shrinks into the coil that gives him wings, 
 And, busy with his lightning-tongue, 
 
 Distends his throat, as mischief heaves and swells 
 Through all its angry-working cells ! — 
 Bloated immense, and like a Fiend up-sprung, 
 He darts: ! 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 But ere the flitting moment go, 
 
 An arm, by Love's energic rage possest, 
 Hath visited that hateful crest, . . . 
 Though dizzy vengeance half-defrauds the blow. 
 ExaspVated, the Felon turns : — 
 
 Black-fest'ring malice curdles at his heart, 
 And in concentrate venom longs to flow ! 
 
book in. THE DEMON-WOOD. 115 
 
 Shifting on ev'ry side he burns, . . 
 And sharping all his deadly wisdom, learns 
 What, surest, nimblest, wile may crown his part. 
 In vam !— Defence is all he may :— 
 Fiercer and faster flash and-play 
 
 The strokes that whistle round his head . . . 
 By craft eluded still ;— yet hard-bested, 
 Scarce can the Monster- Worm, 
 Though all his art, and all his force, he tire, 
 From that relentless persecution wheel : — 
 
 In treasur'd fury, mix'd'with dread, 
 The sabre's windy flight he seems to feel,— 
 Seems with hot gaspings to respire,— 
 And, vast-convolving, labours with the storm. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Anon, worse rancour plotting in his eye, — 
 
 The Dragon, . . sworn to kill, or die, . . 
 
 For one dread sleight assembles all his frame. — 
 That shriek ! — Insensate Maid, from thee it came ! — 
 
 Love turn'd, instinctive, at her cry 
 
 When suddenly the Snake, with curling swing, 
 Clasp'd in a living chain, of spire on spire, 
 Th' unwary Foe . . and churn'd up all his ire ! — 
 
 Ye Pow'rs ! The Knight has catch'd, with lion-spring, 
 
1 16 THE DEMON-WOOD. book 
 
 Yon Devil by the gorge . . . nor slacks his hold, - - 
 Though the strained Reptile tightens evVy ring, - - * 
 Till, by that rigid gripe control'd, 
 Out-burst the sight-balls, and their flames expire ! 
 
 Stung into madding life by rage and pain, 
 Longtime, with twistings dire, 
 
 Self-knotted, . . self-untied, . . he fights amain :— 
 But Death, delay'd no more, his meal demands, 
 
 Gradual relaxing fold from writhing fold.- — 
 Sound from his exploit, the calm Victor stands, - - 
 
 Like some high-tow^ing Cedar bold 
 By noxious climbers bound, --and, with his hands, 
 From each herculean limb unlinks the scaly bands. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Lives the sweet Maid, to bless her glorious Friend ? — ■ 
 
 She would not die- — but from her place beneath, - - 
 Fix'd like an Image in one cowering bend, 
 With eyes aghast, and with convulsive breath, 
 Palms clinch 'd intense, and the last hues of death, - - 
 Watched all the struggle, to its wond'rous end — 
 Then, while her quiv'ring lips commerc'd with Heav'n, 
 Fell smiling . . . like a Saint that dies forgiv'n !-^ 
 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 THE DEMON-WOOD. HT 
 
 What looks were chang'd, when HadePs fost'ring care 
 
 To second life recalVd his dormant Love, . . 
 No Bard may chaunt, that breathes terrestrial air : — 
 Such mystic raptures of the Brave, and Fair, 
 Are haply doom'd angelic Souls to move, 
 And ring upon the golden lyre above ! 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 The Warrior harks aside : — A hailing cheer, 
 From well-known voices, fuller strikes his ear ! — 
 
 Responding, with a shout that filTd the sky, 
 He tells the Virgin of deliv'rance near, . . 
 
 And, bearing his heart's Treasure, seems to fly : — 
 Nor speed may tire, nor obstacle withstand, 
 Till he hath johVd, at last, yon heav'n-conducted Band. 
 
 END OF BOOK III. 
 
119 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 THE SIEGE BEGUN. 
 I. 
 
 At length, emerging from yon den of gloom, 
 Just as the Sun elanc'd a parting ray, 
 They caught the smile of comfortable day : — 
 And see ! — Lennora, to redress thy doom, 
 Fair Nymph, hath sent, in bright array, 
 The Car of Hadel. — Charioteer, give room ! — 
 A nobler burthen the proud seat sustains, -- 
 And, as the coursers, conscious of their Lord, 
 Fly at his all-commanding word, 
 He takes in hand the empire of the reins. 
 Now, homeward as they bend their social way, 
 
 What thoughts the bosom crowd with joys, and pains ! 
 Thoughts, without words, - - - or words that little say. 
 For her, . . still pondring, with no thankless care, 
 On him whose prowess her deliv'rance wrought, 
 And with the rage of love more hardly fought, 
 
120 THE SIEGE BEGUN. book 
 
 What can she, but redouble pray'r on pray'r, 
 That Verity divine his darken'd heart 
 May visit, and the Christian's hope impart ? - - 
 " He rescu'd me from Death ; — him rescue from Despair IV 
 
 II. 
 
 Nor pray'r was all. Persuasive accents hung, 
 As Heav'n had tun'd them, on her tongue : 
 " Poor Pagan !" . . and she view'd him with an eye 
 That brighten'd with sweet hope of victory, . . 
 " Deluded Prince ! Where now the Demon-League 
 For thy destruction ? — Where thy confidence 
 In Seers, fore-naming this thy day of doom ? — 
 Shall proof be heard ? — hear it e'en from me !— 
 In yonder Wood, as thy Religion tells, 
 
 Fal'n Spirits wait thyself their destin'd Prey : — 
 
 If this be false,-- the Prophet, and his Imaum, 
 Are nothing, . . and thy Faith a cheating dream ; 
 If true, — a stronger Hand hath chain'd the Foe.. 
 Forswear thy worship, then, as blind, or vain : 
 Bow down before the Cross, . . . adoring Him 
 
 Whom / adore Who, at the fervent pray'r 
 
 Of my poor self, his humblest worshipper, 
 Hath watch'd us, and safe led through all our way." — 
 Here paus'd the Maid, . . expectant of a sound 
 From Hadel ; — but his Thoughts no passage found. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 THE SIEGE BEGUN. 121 
 
 Her words fell heavy on his labVing soul, 
 
 Which, born in fetters, dar'd not to be free : — 
 Truth shakes him strong — but, spurning the control 
 
 Of Christian truth, he will not bend his knee. 
 Still sate the Virgin, as intent to hear : — 
 He spake not ; - - yet the silence pleased her :— fear 
 Of stubborn loud repulse had pained her most, 
 Nor all is, yet, in desperation lost. 
 With govern'd zeal, she struck the tender string 
 
 No more but in his mem'ry left a sting. 
 
 Hope rais'd her heart ; while oft a warmer pray'r 
 Told of her brave Protector's hit' rest there. 
 
 III. 
 
 Such thoughts, of heavily kindness, beam confest 
 From eyes, whose liquid languish makes him blest. — 
 Those years are his, when all the PowVs conspire 
 
 To Man's perfection : — Suns, of torrid flame, 
 Strike him with all the rays that hatch desire ; 
 Nor e'er the God of Passion borrowed fire 
 
 From beauty such as lights Matilda's frame : — 
 Yet, though he melts at each etherial grace 
 
 More subtly flowing o'er that form of love 
 Than e'en Love's quick-pursuing eye can trace ; — > 
 
 Though, mute, or speaking, - - active, or at rest, - 
 
 As Nature plays in accent, look, or move, 
 
122 THE SIEGE BEGUN. book i v. 
 
 She breathes enchantment, . . and full sweetly steals 
 The Hero from himself, — yet, yet, he feels 
 But love, . . . that never touch'd the baser breast. 
 Thence the firm spell that e'en his will restrains, 
 And rules the madding torrent in his veins : — 
 Round Vestals pure, such virtued influence reigns ! — < 
 He, that ne'er blench'd from aught below the sky, 
 
 Deep-marvels at himself, — but marvels more 
 
 At her, whose high ascendancy he bore : 
 E'en while he gazes, - - that pernicious eye, 
 
 Whose glance made vet'rans crouch behind their shields, . . 
 
 To a weak damsel, unresisting, yields : — 
 
 That voice, which in the mell of bloody fields 
 Call'd with a trumpet's tone to victory, . . . 
 Forgetting, now, all usage of command, 
 Scarce breathes a Lover's wish in whispers bland ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 While thus, with restless heart, though slumb'ring tongue, 
 The Warrior bears his precious Charge along, — 
 
 He through the nameless perturbations tost 
 Of potent Love, with all his wayward throng 
 
 Of troubled hopes, in distant shadows lost, 
 
 She, all suspectless of the toils that wound 
 
book iv. THE SIEGE BEGUN. 128 
 
 With treach'ry, . . soft, yet sure, . . about her heart, 
 Nor thinking, as for him she prays to Heav'n, 
 That e'en the pray'r may need to be forgiv'n, — 
 Wak'd from the dreams of Thought, they start 
 At voices, with glad welcome in the sound. 
 
 From Wilhelm . . from the Queen . . those greetings flew, 
 As, from a turret's top, that held them bound 
 All day, and till another night came round, . . 
 Restor'd as from the Dead, Matilda's form they knew. 
 
 V. 
 
 Scarce the wild words of gratulation cease, - - 
 Joy's lively tumult soft'ning into peace, - - 
 When, darted through the Lover's mind, returns 
 Matilda's charge, late giv'n. At once he burns 
 
 Against her deadly Foe at once he flies, 
 
 Demanding where th' infuriate Woman lies. 
 
 But fear, or nobler shame, her course impels, 
 
 Or Vengeance, hiding near, prepares her spells. — 
 
 The search incessant plied with fruitless care, 
 
 Sadd'ning, he hath to tell his toil's despair. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Time travel'd on — yet Agnes came no more ! — 
 While yet the hapless chance they ponder'd o'er, — < 
 
 Far-heard, the steps resound 
 Of a fleet horse — now panting at the door. 
 
124 THE SIEGE BEGUN. book iv, 
 
 His youthful Rider, clad in War's array, 
 Bright as Apollo, and as gay, 
 With feather'd foot salutes the ground, -- 
 
 And through the wid'ning mansion flies along, 
 Till, . . Hadel, and the captive Dames among, 
 In Montmorenci's form he gazes round. 
 
 VII. 
 
 As when the Leopardess, . . whose Infant-Care 
 The Lion, late, hath hurried to his lair, . . 
 Mad with a mother's love, pursues the trace 
 That leads her to the Tyrant's biding-place, 
 Nor fears its horrid Master to behold, 
 Imagin'd slaught'ring in some distant fold, - - 
 Then starts, confounded, sudden to descry 
 The den, deep-lighted by his glaring eye, — 
 So thou, Morenci. 
 
 Hadel stern demands, 
 
 What brings him ? — Soon recovering, where he stands, 
 
 The Youth, - -by Fortune, not by Terror, qUelTd, - - 
 
 Gave back the lordly look, and pride with pride repel I'd. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 " Warrior !" he calm returns, " thy brief demand 
 Calls brief reply. Yon wond'rous Maid behold, - - 
 Then, if thou may'st, thy question urge again. 
 Fame gave thee absent, and resistless love, 
 
ook iv. THE SIEGE BEGUN. 125 
 
 Me, as thyself, with daring hope inspir'd." — 
 
 " Enough !" the genVous Arab quick replies — 
 " I praise thy gallant rashness, and repent 
 Mine ignorance, that blindly hath reprov'd 
 Matilda's Champion. — But, in me behold 
 A Knight, as thou art - - and a Knight prepaid, 
 Against all Undertakers, to proclaim 
 This earthly Goddess : — Hugo the renown'd 
 My spurs of Chivalry set on. — Revolve 
 What Hadel hath pronounc'd : — He adds no more." 
 
 IX. 
 
 Morenci, at the word conceiving fire, 
 Gather'd a brave reply ; and thoughts of ire 
 In each were kindling — when the Tyrian Sage, 
 With solemn step advancing, check'd the rage : — 
 
 " Warriors ! The charge ye proudly litigate, 
 
 Yon holy Virgin to defend, / claim. 
 
 Not in an arm of flesh, but in the pow'r 
 Of godliness, her strong protection lies, - - 
 And Wilhelm is her Guard, assign'd by Heav'n. 
 With Hadel, by the rugged right of arms, 
 Awhile she dwells, — till He that balances 
 The scales of War, shall bid her thraldom end. — 
 Thou, Montmorenci, — Christian if thou be 
 
126 THE SIEGE BEGUN. booi 
 
 In spirit, as in name, — remember well 
 
 Who arms thee now; nor desecrate the sword 
 
 Rais'd for thy Saviour, in a mortal cause. 
 
 Young Soldier ! By the Cross upon thy breast 
 
 I charge thee, from Augustus claim again 
 
 Thy forfeit ransom, - - and again be found 
 
 Where God requires thee. So — or dread His ire f!' 
 
 X. 
 
 He ceas'd ; — and, as when the great Light above, 
 In blessed radiance coming, wins his way 
 
 Between two sulphVcus clouds, that frowning move 
 To meet in thunder, . . . then, with potent ray 
 Scatters their gloom, and pacifies the Day, — 
 
 Thus hoary Wilhelm ruFd the fierce debate. 
 
 E'en Hadel paus'd — while, self-reproving, sate 
 
 The Christian, . . as each word were seaFd by Fate. 
 
 Deep rev'rence locM his tongue — but the meek brow 
 
 Gave promise - - and his virtue kept the vow. — 
 With kindly warmth, each amicable hand 
 
 Leaps forth, . . and their accorded hearts expand. 
 
 The noble Dames, . . late throbbing with alarm, 
 
 Joy to behold the dissipated harm. 
 
 Thus friendship stands confirm'd ; — yet not the more 
 
 Ceas'd either Chief one Idol to adore :■ — 
 
book iv. THE SIEGE BEGUN. 127 
 
 But Hadel thrives on hope, and freely warms 
 In the full sun-shine of Matilda's charms ; — 
 His Rival, doom'd a Pris'ner, still must prove 
 Absence, with jealousy the Iron Age of Love ! 
 
 XI. 
 
 While thus the great Arabian learn'd to feel 
 
 What Passion triumphs o'er the heart of steel, 
 
 Now starting, in the pangs of secret shame, 
 Oft as the trumpet's angry summons came, 
 Now, as the Tyrant, Love, ruTd unconfin'd, 
 Surrendering the proud Kingdom of his mind, — 
 With steady watch, yon holy Sire pursued 
 The mischief . . still suspended — still renew'd. 
 Then, lest the Child of his paternal care 
 Catch the contagious flame, and perish there, 
 At once through ev'ry mazy fold he winds 
 Of her young heart . . . and all the frailty finds. — 
 
 The dark discov'ry made, — with look severe, 
 And speech, whose terrors tingled in her ear, 
 He bar'd the dangers of the path she trod, . . 
 Far devious from the Hill that leads to God — 
 Shewed Agnes, - - once upon her course to Heav'n, 
 Till from that course by Passion desp'rate-driv'n : — 
 " Matild I' 1 . . with alter'd countenance he cries, 
 While trembling Expectation clos'd her eyes, . . 
 
128 THE SIEGE BEGUN. book iv. 
 
 " Hast thou forgot, when with no friendly voice 
 Yon ruin'd Wretch prophetic sang thy doom, 
 Close-foll'wing on her own ? — That shaken frame, 
 That bloodless cheek, make signal thou remember'st. — 
 Mercy o'er-shadow thee ! — From me receive, 
 And treasure deep, one solemn warning more : — 
 Henceforth, from yonder Pagan firm withhold 
 (His visit's mark,) thy presence, - - till myself, 
 Observant of occasion, set thee free. 
 So swear, --and hov'ring Angels be thy Guard !" 
 
 Fast from her eyes, — for sorrow chok'd her voice, — 
 She pour'd the vow that sacrihVd her choice. 
 Hard was the task ; — but for Eternal Life 
 She fought . . . and rose victorious from the strife. 
 
 XII. 
 
 -: ■ 
 
 The Confessor,— his thanks to Heav'n addrest, — - 
 Lodged all his counsel in Lennora's breast ; 
 Reveal'd what snares beset the sufF'ring Maid, 
 And calTd a Sister's duty to his aid. — 
 The call was heard :~Her glancing eyes, apart, 
 Had read, - - but read not all, - - Matilda's heart ; 
 Had blam'd, . . yet lov'd her more, - - and, rashly kind, 
 Sate silent, while the Virgin mask'd her mind. — 
 Now, in alarm, she view'd with keen remorse 
 The full-grown danger, . . and arous'd her force. 
 
,ook iv. THE SIEGE BEGUN. . 129 
 
 Then, thus the Sage : " To guard her, be thy care : — 
 Man, . . fierce to man, . . yields homage to the Fair. 
 When Hadel next approaches, find the mean 
 To temper him . . and save the Maid unseen.'" 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Erelong, Occasion rose. Th 1 arriving Chief 
 
 Lennora found then sought his love's Relief. — 
 
 The bliss withheld, — his eye, with kindling pride, 
 
 Told how a Hero feels, ... his will denied : — 
 
 But, instant, in his order'd look was seen 
 
 Remember'd revVence tow'rd a Captive-Queen. 
 
 Yet warm expostulation took the place 
 
 Of proud Authority, and sued for grace. 
 
 Disguis'd no more, the Lover stands display'd : — 
 
 " I pine, I perish, for the glorious Maid ! — 
 
 Queen ! fear me not : — That Purity divine 
 
 Hath made me pure, - - nor dares my heart approach her 
 
 Save with such hopes, as holy rites confirm. — 
 
 Unbroken to repulse, and born to rule, 
 
 I struggle in my chains, and fear to think 
 
 Whither Despair may whirl me : — Ne'er, till now, 
 
 Love's frenzy shook my soul, or left me doubtful 
 
 Of mine own strength. O give her to my eyes, - - 
 
 And she will melt away the mutiny 
 
ISO THE SIEGE BEGUN. book iv 
 
 Of mingling Passions that now stir within me ! — 
 Place her - - again I crave it - - in my view ! — 
 Then — then — if thou hast wishes unfulfiU'd, 
 Ask with her tongue . . . and Hadel grants them all ; 
 
 Yea, though the boon be freedom for herself, 
 
 Let her but smile, ... or seem to make petition, . . . 
 And, trust me, I do feel that, rash as fire, 
 I shall betray my charge — myself betray — 
 And madly give my soul's rich treasure from me !* 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Lennora silent heard his piteous pray'r, 
 And, parting, left the suppliant Hero there. 
 On the deep-wounded bosom, well she knew 
 To drop Compassion's medicating dew : — 
 But, more : — his words had flash'd upon her heart, 
 E'en now, the proffer'd blessing ... to depart. — 
 Yet, though she long'd, in ev'ry glowing vein, 
 To clasp her Lion-hearted Lord again, — 
 Alone she saw, . . or strove alone to see, . . 
 Her Sister-Friend, from Love's enticement free, 
 At peace with Heav'n once more. — Forgetting now, 
 Though recent-heard, Matilda's awful vow, - - 
 Alive with joyous hope, she found the Maid, 
 And all the rising prospect full display 'd. 
 
THE SIEGE BEGUN. 1-31 
 
 XV. 
 
 Ill-omenM was the time :— Yon saintly Sire 
 Had breath'd upon her soul Devotion's fire. 
 Her vow is at her heart, - - and all in vain 
 Shall mortal hand essay to loose the chain.— 
 Refusal firm went forth, in word, and look. — 
 Wilhelm, inform'd of all, the Queen bespoke : 
 
 " Princess ! From young Matilda deign to learn 
 What Virtue hath not shewn thee : Mortal love, 
 Still alien from divine, hath stain'd thy heart, - - 
 Thy reason blinded : Win the grace of Heav'n 
 By penitence, . . nor tempt the Maiden more. — 
 If Hadel wait thy coming, — iterate, 
 With affirmation strong, my sentence past : 
 Yon Virgin, consecrate to God, remains 
 Commissiou'd to my hand, by Earth, and Heav'n : — 
 At his soul's peril let him wrest her from me !" 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Discountenanced, Lennora sad returns, 
 Where, on his eager watch, the Lover burns. — 
 
 Heart-struck he hears, yet, master of the throes 
 
 That torture him, a tranquil aspect shews — 
 Commands his tongue to silence — tow'rd the Queen 
 Bends rev' rent, - - and, majestic, leaves the scene 
 
132 THE SIEGE BEGUN. book iv. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Soon from the dominance of wrath set free, 
 He seeks the Sire, . . and, op'ning his decree, 
 Thus, absolute, determines, what shall be : 
 
 " Father, it irks me sorely to behold 
 Yon royal Dames, long pining, with thyself, 
 In the restraint of hard captivity. — 
 One course remains. To Richard's camp repairing, 
 My words deliver : — ' Each illustrious Fair 
 Must linger still in durance, till the Christian 
 From Ptolemais' Wall his Force retire.' 
 Thither Morenci, ransomed once again, 
 E'en now returns. By him, with HadeFs Guard, 
 From danger shielded, fearless take thy way." 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 N 
 
 The Sage opposes ; — but that voice commands, 
 Whose peremptory bidding none withstands. — 
 Patient in spirit, . . yet surcharg'd with gloom, 
 Yon Maid he found, and shew'd the rig'rous doom — 
 Printed his holy Counsels o'er and o'er — 
 Warn'd of the Wolf that hunger'd at the door- 
 Humbled the confidence of Man to dust, . . . 
 And told how Satan thrives, when Self we vainly trust. 
 
THE SIEGE BEGUN. 13S 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Obedient as the bulrush to the wind, 
 Matilda, list'ning, all her soul resign'd — 
 Foster'd the goodly pride that rose within 
 Against the galling tyranny of sin — 
 Shut Hadel from her heart, and fill'd the shrine 
 With orisons, and images divine. 
 
 XX. 
 
 While thus, with Christian courage, . . meek, yet bold, 
 Yon Virgin purified her mortal mould, - - 
 Long sate the Sire, in contemplation drown'd : — 
 At length emerging bright from Thought's Profound, 
 With renovated hope, he claim'd her ear : — 
 
 " Daughter, attend ! — Long pond'ring on thy fate, 
 I seem to catch, as by a ray from Heav'n, 
 What course, in this dark hour, shall 'stead thee best. — 
 The ruthless hand of Hadel, thou hast heard, 
 Prepares to drive me hence, nor suffers, more, 
 These watchful eyes to track his wily way. — 
 Yet, look for comfort. — With reluctant speed, 
 
 Our Captor joins the war thyself, be sure, 
 
 With Richard's Queen, still destin'd here to dwell. 
 Occasion giv'n, - - full soon shall he return. 
 Fair tenders, with beguiling words, and vows, — ■ 
 
1#4 THE SIEGE BEGUN. book iv. 
 
 Rank poison, dulcified with wicked skill, — 
 
 Shall steal on thy defenceless heart. — Matilda ! 
 
 To hear that tongue, with passion'd eloquence 
 
 Richly abounding, . . . and to risk reply 
 
 From thine own counsel, - - - were to yield thy soul !— ■ 
 
 Now, give me all thy heed :— On th' utmost bound 
 
 Of yonder Desart, East, that intervenes 
 
 'Twixt Araby, and Egypt, — honour'd far, 
 
 An Eremite there dwells, from Man retir'd, 
 
 And Man's devices once, the willing slave 
 
 Of wrong desires, and studied in the snares 
 That draw th' unwary Virgin down to ruin. — 
 Contrition came at last : — His earthly store 
 Casting into the lap of Want, he flew 
 To yonder cave, - - where many a circling Sun 
 Hath view'd his holiness austere, and heard 
 His constant voice in penitence, and pray'r.— 
 
 What follows ? — Hadel gone, . . . thyself remove, 
 And, guarded by Britannia's noble Band, 
 Who share thy prisonment, that Hermit find. 
 Arriving, shew him all thy trouble, — crave 
 His guidance thro 1 the maze that would confound thee, — - 
 And, waiting God's decretal, . . rest in peace, 
 Till ransom, or the lot of changeful war, 
 Place thee beneath a Brother's wing once more. — 
 Doth Conscience, . , doth Religion, . . chain thee here?- — 
 
book iv. THE SIEGE BEGUN. 135 
 
 They warn thee hence, - - and fearful were thy sin, 
 To stay. This Pagan hath relax'd the bond 
 That holds a Christian Virgin, when with love 
 He stains her ear, . . and, with unhallow'd hand, 
 Her ghostly Friend, and Father, tears away.— * 
 He that inspir'd my thought, shall able thee 
 To act it through, . . and bless thy head from harm." 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Here, Wilhelm ceas'd to speak. The godly Maid 
 Assents, - - though peril in her path be laid. 
 The Sire, with tender blessings, join'd her pray , r 
 To Him who takes the Helpless to His care, 
 And promises a refuge from Despair.— 
 
 Now, heavy on their hearts the moment fell 
 That bids exchange the falt'ring word . . . Farewell ! — 
 Their parting o'er, - -he breathes upon the Queen 
 Fresh benizons, - * - and softens at the scene, 
 While to the Partner of her life she sends 
 Long histories of love, ... or in devotion bends. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 But, list ! — Morenci calls ! — Yea, while his heart 
 Springs to Matild, as with a dying start, 
 He bravely sounds the signal, to depart. 
 
136 THE SIEGE BEGUN. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 That Morn, his eyes had look'd a last adieu : 
 Thus, oft before, they told his fondness true ; — 
 But ne'er, till now, Love's broken groan confest 
 The slow, deep, fire, he fed within his breast. 
 
 And must she, then, with cureless grief requite 
 One . . late her sufFring Champion in the fight ? — 
 She must : — In him while Passion bled, and burn'd, 
 The Maid, - - unequal recompense ! - - return'd 
 I Thankful applause, for service nobly done, 
 And pity . . gently pour'd in Friendship's tone. 
 Yet, from her lip, so sweet the tribute flow'd, - - 
 An instant, he forgot to feel his load : — 
 
 That precious, cheering, vital moment o'er, 
 
 Joy visited his lonely heart no more ! — 
 
 ' XXIII. 
 
 What shall he do ! — 'Twere anguish to remain, - - 
 His loss redoubled by a Rival's gain : — 
 'Tis past. The Warrior, with a desp'rate force 
 To Heroes known, . . dares Fortune to the course : 
 " The Battle calls me : — Death ! be ready there, 
 To crown me, glorious, from my brief career !" — 
 To his pale cheek, Despair hath lent the bloom 
 Of Hope, . . and, sadly smiling, points him to the tomb. 
 
book iv. THE SIEGE BEGUN. 137 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Now, full-equipp'd, and with a gallant Guard 
 Of Arabs, by the princely Foe prepared, 
 Behold, Morenci, gracefully serene, 
 
 Lifts to the lofty car yon bending Sire. 
 
 It were a sight for Angels to admire ! — 
 
 Ne'er hoary Sanctitude, and youthful Fire, 
 Combin'd in fairer fellowship were seen. 
 Each, in the other, priz'd a Christian friend : 
 
 Here, fathering love . . there, filial rev'rence, view ! 
 
 Nor, as the Pair their social way pursue, 
 Doth gloom, in Age, . . or pride, from Youth, . . offend. — 
 While, now, along the shore, their progress draws 
 To God's own Land, and minds them of the Cause 
 That arms wide Christendom, — their hearts engage 
 In higher converse, . . . and full oft the Sage, 
 
 As o'er yon heights they travel, shews afar 
 FaTn monuments, . . in many a distant age 
 
 To fav'ring Heav'n up-rais'd with pious care 
 
 By Saracenic vengeance long left wreck'd, and bare. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Now, on the very Ground of Palestine, 
 
 Th' associate Friends, descending as they meet 
 Each martyr'd relick, -- with religious feet 
 
 Frequent those awful solitudes divine. — 
 
138 THE SIEGE BEGUN. e 
 
 Whilst holy sorrows from the Patriarch flow, 
 The Red-cross Warrior, with untemper 1 d heat, 
 Loud-threatens on the crest of Saladine, . . 
 
 Author of sacrilege, . . a Christian's blow !— 
 Here, a torn Temple, — once, Devotion's pride, . . 
 
 Now, sunk in desolation, — seems to mourn 
 Its perish'd glory. Mould'ring, far and wide, 
 God's Altars he, by old Oblivion worn : — 
 Yet further on, the blessed Cross behold, 
 Spurn'd into fragments by the furious hate 
 Of Mahoun's Crew, . . . that may deplore, too late, 
 Each hostile stroke laid on with violation bold ! 
 
 XXVI, 
 
 Morenci, all beholding, gnash'd with rage. — 
 Wilhelm, in watchful sadness, mark'd the fire 
 In his fierce eye, and heard the mutter'd ire — 
 When thus the Sage : — 
 
 " Soldier of Heav'n ! Thy holy Charge resign, - - 
 Or break thee to its yoke. e The wrath of Man 
 Works not the righteousness of God/ Beware ! — 
 
 Anger hath warrant in the Cause of Right 
 
 Rage, never. On the crest of Saladine 
 Thine edge may fall ; — yet let it weep to harm 
 The Sinner, while it aims to strike the sin. 
 
 Love, . . e'en in sacrificing, love, thy Foe 
 
 Or lose thy part in Godlike Charity ! 
 
book iv. THE SIEGE BEGUN. 139 
 
 But, me, perchance, ! . . th' anointed Messenger 
 Of Peace, . . with light regard thou hear'st usurping 
 Upon a Warrior's theme ? — So : — Give thine ear ; 
 And from the rites of armed Chivalry, 
 (Whose honours touch thee with ambition,) learn 
 To sanctify the work of murd'rous War : — 
 On th 1 Eve of Installation, — all alone 
 Within God's House, in prostrate piety, 
 Th' Aspirant, ere his hand presume to touch 
 The sword of Knighthood, ... to the God of Peace, 
 And Loving-Mercy, consecrates his toil, - - 
 Wearing away the solemn hours of Night 
 In tears for sin, and spirit-breathing pray'r. — 
 Not yet accepted, nor of worthiness 
 To bear his high commission, - - he receives, 
 With awe profound, those mystic Elements 
 That feed the heart with holiness, and bring, 
 By christian Faith, on christian purposes, 
 Rich blessings, and unfading glories, down ! — 
 More yet : — In symbol of such purity 
 As Heav'n demands, — the Champion, ere he part, 
 Must plunge into the living stream, . . to rise 
 
 Immaculate then wear the hallo w'd stole, 
 
 Whose whiteness may record him clean within. 
 
 His ordeal of purgation o'er, — confiding 
 In Him who reigns above, he takes the sword, 
 
140 THE SIEGE BEGUN. book iv. 
 
 Keen-temper'd, as from th' Armoury of God, - - 
 Faith's buckler bearing, and Salvation's helm. 
 
 So panoplied, He, with his Brethren bold, 
 Walks forth to Victory, — sublimely calm 
 As Heav'n's destroying Angel, smites the crown 
 Of Satan, in his earthly Worshippers, — 
 And from the brazen bonds of tyranny 
 And ravage, vindicates a groaning World." 
 
 So spake the Sire : — With chain'd attention sate 
 The youthful Warrior, . . and rebuk'd his hate. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Mute they return, . . and, mounting, roll again 
 Tow'rd the proud Walls of Acra, distant far - - 
 Walls, menac'd by the zeal of Holy War. 
 Near, on the West, they skirt the Midland-Main, 
 While, Eastward, as they press their varying flight, 
 Stream, Town, or Mountain, animate the sight 
 With objects, memoriz'd in Hebrew Song, 
 
 Or Christian joy, with sadness overhung. 
 
 At length, beyond sweet Sharon's flowery vale, 
 And further, where old Carmel's rocky steep 
 Aye frowningly rebuffs th' insulting Deep, 
 A wond'rous Plain appears, whose verdant ground 
 Far-spreads beyond th' Horizon's ample round : — 
 This conquer'd, - - fear, nor mischief, shall assail. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 THE SIEGE BEGUN. 141 
 
 Some Spirit good o'erlooks them as they go : — 
 Through many a chilling dew, and scorching ray, 
 And many a danger of the length'ning way, . . 
 Storm in the air, or ambush of the Foe, . . 
 
 They move unharm'd along; till now, at last, -- 
 Yon broad Savannah's bound securely past, - - 
 They spy the Christian tents, in doubtful show, 
 With gleams of steely light, that scare the peaceful Day. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Soon may the forward-darting Youth behold, - - 
 His eye still bright'ning at the sign it sees, - - 
 Gaul's mounted flag, . . that, open'd by the breeze, 
 
 Wide-flings its undulating flame of gold ! — 
 
 His heart . . it seems to laugh and sing, 
 
 As now the martial echoes bring 
 
 Shout, and rattling trump, that ring, 
 In glorious tumult gay. 
 
 Deep-shakes the many-trampling sound 
 
 Of Horse, . . whose thrilling cries rebound 
 
 From clamYous battlement, and mound, 
 Chiding the fight's delay : — 
 
 Touch'd by the keen-remember'd chear, 
 
 That startles up the catching ear, 
 
 His fervid Coursers quiver as they hear, 
 
142 THE SIEGE BEGUN. b 
 
 And, all broke diverse, seem to take the sky ! 
 Wide-scatt'ring their redundant manes 
 From necks that rule the reins, 
 
 They breathe hot clouds, . . and, true to ev'ry cry, 
 Pour back, with frantic force, a torrent of reply ! 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Fear for his rev'rent Partner seiz'd the Gaul. — 
 The storm of danger passing, - - at his call, 
 A smoother seat, with milder steeds, are there, 
 And safely to the Christian camp they fare. — 
 
 Arabs— Dash'd be all your trust ! 
 
 Here, e'en the Lawless join the Just: — 
 
 See, camp'd along their cavern'd Wood, 
 
 Yon brazen Bandits, wild of mood, 
 
 With hot carousal chafe the blood. 
 
 Propp'd on the spear, or loosely flung, 
 
 They vie rash feats, with hand, and tongue, 
 
 While Acra's fall, in chorus high, 
 
 Swells the ferocious revelry. 
 
 Still, as their helmed heads decline, 
 
 To quaff the circulating wine, 
 
 Gorget, and casque, and battle-pole, 
 
 Sparkling and dancing in the bowl, 
 
 To hardier challenge fire the soul, 
 
book iv. THE SIEGE BEGUN. 143 
 
 And give the riot life ! — 
 But what new Spirit through the plain 
 Wakes the Christian sword again ? — 
 Lo ! Band with band by starts engage, 
 And, simulating hostile rage, 
 War, in its ev'ry motion, wage, 
 
 Till real seems the strife ! 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Now kenn'd the Chief, with nearer sight, 
 The Sons of Fame, severely bright :— 
 Array'd by many a Captain bold, 
 Their banner'd Ranks in order told 
 
 What Princes gave them law. 
 One fiery Form he still descries, 
 The mark, and centre of all eyes : 
 Where'er it moves, . . a Host attends; 
 Whene'er it points, . . Obedience bends ; 
 It signals . . and disorder ends ; — 
 'Twas Richard's Form he saw ! 
 Morenci smiles . . forgetting ev'ry care : — 
 The giddy wheels, as glowing life were there, 
 Cool never, till they reach yon Carnival of War ! 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Gazing, all greet with reverential pride 
 Their Saint return d . .and hail his valiant Guide. — 
 
144 THE SIEGE BEGUN. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 But Britain's Hero, . . ardent o'er the rest, . . 
 CompelPd them to his tent, and loud-confest 
 The hopes . . the doubts . . that battled in his breast : — 
 " My Queen ! . . Matilda ! . . Give me bliss, or bale."— 
 Straight, (though his eagerness oft break the tale,) 
 Whate'er had fal'n, - - save HadeFs ani rous rage, - - 
 Was full disclos'd ; — nor lost the faithful Sage 
 What fondest words Lennora left in charge, 
 To Richard's thirsting ear deliver'd large. 
 
 While now he felt as cherish'd Husbands feel, 
 The Sire his harder message dares reveal : 
 " Thus Hadel bade me. say — c If thou dost love 
 
 Yon Captive Dames, and would'st again behold, >/.£ xxf 
 
 At once from Acra's threaten'd Walls retire.' " 
 
 He heard no further, . . but releas'd the fire 
 That burn'd within him, in a burst of ire : 
 
 sei bnA 
 XXXII. 
 
 " I thank thee, Prince ! — Let Acra thank him too ! - - 
 For, by the God who made me what I am, 
 
 And hears me word my vow, I will not slumber, 
 
 Till I have set my foot on her fal'n tow'rs. — 
 
 Too long between great Philip, and Ourself, 
 Unchristian feuds have reign'd. Well boots it, now, 
 To harmonize our Quarrel : — Then, proud Arab, iodW 
 Thou shall be answer'd !— Ere this hour be past, 
 
 
book iv. THE SIEGE BEGUN. 145 
 
 Will I convoke the Chiefs, - - and we shall rouse 
 Yon Sarazens, ere Dawn. — Thou, holy Sire! 
 Bring us thy sanction, . . and inspiring Heav'n 
 Attune thy tongue to peace ! — Meanwhile, attend me, 
 And briefly, by the way, shalt thou be told 
 Of our untimely ferments."" 
 
 While he hears, 
 
 The Hierarch assents, with holy tears, — 
 Lauds the good zeal, . . and meditates to show 
 What blessings from accordant counsels flow. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 In Fancy's ear, the Battle roars again ! — 
 I see, I hear it rave along ! — 
 Caught in its course, I tremble strong — 
 I find its fever in my song, 
 
 And feel it busy with my burning brain ! 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 The summon'd Powers are met. The holy Man, 
 With solemn port up-rising, thus began : 
 " Imperial Captains, whom, in prosp'rous hour, 
 Once more I hail assembled, — entertain 
 With fav'ring ears th' Ambassador of Heav'n ! — 
 
 For You, - - proud Lords of Britain, and of Gaul ! 
 Whose jealousies have gender d rankling hate 
 
 L 
 
146 THE SIEGE BEGUN. book 
 
 In pious hearts— of you I make demand, 
 
 In the dread Name of Him whose Cross ye bear, . . 
 
 Is it for this the Nations have out-pour'd 
 
 Their armed Strength, by Christian Thrones led on, 
 
 That ye should waste your hallow'd Force away 
 Before yon Babylon, while 'tis debated, 
 If Lusignan, or Conrad, best deserve 
 Ambition's toy, a crown ? — I add no more. 
 
 Thou, Lusignan, — thou, Conrad (whose return 
 Gives omen of advantage), — hear me still : — 
 If ye be Christian Soldiers, and would see 
 The Cross exultant, and the Crescent fal'n, 
 Lay down your difference, till this War divine 
 Be over, . . and in worthier strife contend, 
 Which, first, shall plant on yonder battlements 
 The standard of The Highest. 
 
 Warriors all, 
 
 Be One, - - and Ptolemais is no more ! — 
 Occasion's hour is come : — Their Battle's Boast, 
 High Saladine, and greater Hadel, still 
 
 Hold them away But soon shall they be here, 
 
 With vengeance fraught. Meantime, the Sarazen, 
 Safe in your discord, thinks not to defend 
 His quiet Walls. — Your gestures add the rest : — 
 Break on his dream — and the Lord fight before you !" 
 
THE SIEGE BEGUN. 147 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Thus Wilhelm, gifted with Persuasion's lore, 
 
 All hearts combin'd - - and strife was heard no more 
 
 So have I seen a Master of the lyre, 
 
 Prelusive to his potent lay, 
 Dispose to concord ev'ry jarring wire, 
 
 And steal their dissonance away ; 
 With jealous ear, and with inquiring hand, 
 
 He prov'd the gradual ranks of sound, — 
 
 Th"* unsocial string relax'd, or wound, — 
 And reconciTd the chords with nice command ; — 
 Then, link'd in union sweet, through each degree, 
 Stood all the loving Tribes of Harmony. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Richard, elate with gen'rous fervor, prest 
 Gaul's rival Monarch to his bounding breast. 
 " To-morrow ;" loud he cries, " let Acra fall !" — 
 Glad shouts return the courage of his call. 
 
 Awhile, one Lord, whom other cares employ, 
 Stood off, . . . retiring from the gen'ral joy. 
 'Twas Lusignan : — Sybilla freshly dead, 
 He broods on Empire, and a dearer bed. 
 For these, longtime the wily Chief had tranVd 
 Frank Richard, . . and eternal friendship feigned. — 
 
148 THE SIEGE BEGUN. book iv. 
 
 Yet, though ambitious pride, and winding art, 
 Engross'd him, - - well he knew the warrior's part. 
 Richard to please, that part behov'd him now : — 
 The clouds of thought he scatter'd from his brow, - - 
 Smil'd on the Prince, with fabricated zeal, 
 And menaced Acra with his quiv'ring steel. 
 
 Who front him in the battle, need beware : 
 Save Cceur-de-lion, . . not a Soldier there 
 Or better plied a sword, or launch'd a spear. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 The royal Chiefs, rejoicing as they go, 
 
 Speed through the Camp — and this their welcome strain : 
 
 " To-morrow, Friends, be brave again ! 
 Let the same Sun, whose morning-beam shall glow 
 On yonder Walls ... at eve behold them low !" — 
 
 Through Ptolemais heard, th 1 acclaiming din 
 Awakens evVy Pagan heart within. 
 They of the Red-Cross, touch'd with keen delight, . . . 
 All staunch, and throbbing for the promis'd fight, . . . 
 Each to his tent, wide-scatter through the field. 
 
 Exchanging glance, and gesture, as they fly, 
 These hurry them in arms to dress 
 Their limbs, fatigued with idleness ; 
 Those for the mounted ensign press, -- 
 
 To Valour's call their hearts apply, 
 And handle the neglected sword and shield. 
 
 
book iv. THE SIEGE BEGUN. 149 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 The Captains, . . charg'd with an austerer care, . . 
 
 Marshal their Legions on the brazen plain. — 
 Nor light the task that bids prepare ! 
 
 Stern work to come, and Labour's hardest pain, 
 Rise on their souls, as they behold around 
 
 Gate, spik'd with death, broad battlements that lour, 
 
 Bulwark, and Fortalice, and flinty TowV,— 
 Holds, on the native crag rude-grown, 
 That seem to vegetate in stone. — 
 But mark where, huge up-rear'd o'er all the ground, 
 Yon central Height commands in air, 
 
 So crowri'd, as to discourage force, or toil : — 
 There, the grim Keep, fast in his iron soil, 
 
 Bold-buttress'd, and with subject-walls thrice bound, . . 
 Through Time, and Tempest, Fire, and Siege, and Snare, 
 Stands, built of Strength — perpetual Rock of War ! 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Safe in their mural bounds, the prison'd Foe 
 Sound a rough welcome to the gather'd Swarms, 
 
 And hurling threats of woe, 
 
 Provoke them to the bloody brunt of arms. — 
 
 Disdaining taunt, or challenge from below, 
 
150 
 
 THE SIEGE BEGUN: 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 The Chieftains of the Cross, untouched with fear, 
 Before the Host advancing, view them near, 
 And calm peruse, with scrutiny severe, 
 Those massy rampires, throng'd with many a row 
 Of dark-brow'd aspects, truculently drear, 
 
 With eyes that, through the morion's glooming shade, 
 Like torches glar'd. — Nor leave they unsurvey'd 
 Crenelle, or turret, or high platform strong, — 
 Where, piTd in menacing display, appear 
 What stores of cruelty to Paynim rage belong. 
 
 IOC" 
 
 XL. 
 
 Not idly stood yon horrid Crew, 
 Nor tamely bore the hostile view : 
 
 At ev'ry Form that ventured nigh, . 
 
 In vollies from on high 
 Hard messages of vengeance flew ; 
 
 And oft the rilling blood made known, 
 How stong an arm had slung the stone, 
 Or twang'd the shafted yew ; 
 While he that boasted to have wrought th' annoy, 
 Itoar'd out a barbarous laugh of joy. 
 
 ' 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 THE SIEGE BEGUN. 151 
 
 XLI. 
 
 The strict observance over, all on fire, 
 
 The Chiefs from Ptolemais' > walls retire. — 
 Conven'd for close debate, in ordered course 
 They parle, . . and destinate the Battle's Force. 
 
 Each enterprize adjusted to its hour, — 
 And evVy donjon doom'd, and ev'ry towY, — 
 Through the wide Camp they call the burning Bands, 
 And issue, as from Heav'n, the last commands. 
 
 The busy day was done ; — yet not an eye 
 But watches, to salute the dawning sky : — 
 " Down with the godless Hordes !" in waking dreams they cry. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 It gleam'd at last . . the Morning's welcome ray : — 
 
 True to the signal, down from Hill, and Scaur, 
 
 In dark, broad masses, mov'd the Sons of War. 
 
 Still, as the fervid Sun exalts his car, 
 Bright, and more bright, the diamond-sparks of Day 
 On arms and armour touch in dazzling play. — 
 Where frowns the vanward casque in air, 
 
 Arcft'd with a crest of tossing hair, 
 
 Each King-led Armament behold, - - 
 
 Their acts in solemn Story told. 
 
 Forth-marching, . . fraught with evVy powV 
 
 By Force employ'd in Battle's hour, 
 
152 THE SIEGE BEGUN. book iv. 
 
 And all that in the Brave inspires 
 Loftier hopes, and livelier fires, - - 
 Harness, clanging full and fast, 
 Shook by the tread of legions vast, — 
 Clarions, with courageous breath 
 Shrill-publishing their tunes of death, — 
 Gong, that with rebounding beat 
 Ratifies the trumpet's threat, — 
 Gonfalons, that, flourish'd high, 
 Now shew . . now ravish from the eye . . 
 
 Their proud chivalric blazonry 
 
 The Armies of the Lord, out-pour'd amain, 
 In lightning, and in thunder, sweep the lab'ring Plain ! 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 WalTd up in iron boss'd with burning gold, 
 And bearing on his helm's imperial height 
 Britannia's crown, • • a Treasury of Light ! 
 
 Richard, — like some dread Militant from Heav'n, 
 That fought on Satan's Crew of old, — 
 
 In peerless glory brings along the War. 
 Athwart his breast, behold ! 
 
 The Cross, (thy conq'ring signal wond'rous-giv'n, 
 Great Constantine !) beams rubies from afar. 
 Wide-flashing, as he turns, a gorgeous flame, 
 Himself illumes the Field ! — 
 
 
book iv. THE SIEGE BEGUN. 153 
 
 Proud of his Name, 
 
 The British War-men, hardWd in alarms, 
 One Soul of never-fainting courage warms. 
 Fast-lock'd in solid Coats, the Forge's pride, 
 Whose tempting turn'd the sabre blunt aside, 
 Good blades they brandish^ : — Richard for their Guide, 
 They dar'd the World, . . . and, living on his look, 
 With peals of dire delight th 1 aerial Concave shook. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Next in command, as next in martial fame, . . 
 Leading his Gallic Force, Augustus came. 
 
 Less fierce of mien, yet with a Warrior's heart, 
 He knew, the turns of Battle to descry, 
 And weave the scheme that catches victory, - - 
 With wary skill attempting Valour's part. 
 In hauberks, link'd with triple mail, they throng, 
 
 Each breast with hidden cuirass guarded strong 
 
 The curtlax, and the deadly arcublast, 
 
 For close, or distant fight, behind them cast. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Next follow , d Montmorenci, . . on whose brow 
 Dark sorrow, gilded with a smile, reveals 
 What staid content the Hero feels, 
 
154 THE SIEGE BEGUN. I 
 
 When Life is pain, . . . and he beholds the Foe ! 
 Yon Gallants, in habergeons bright, 
 That free the sinewy arm for fight, 
 With jav'lin, partisan, or bow, 
 
 Eager for use, . . Morenci's rule obey : — 
 Unfix'd their portion of the dread Mellay — 
 But, sure, the dauntless Boys to fame shall find a way. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Behind, stern Lusignan his troop led on : — 
 
 Glitt'ring in brigandines of brass, 
 
 With scale on scale compacted, loud they pass, - - 
 The Choice of Salem's Reign, for bulk and bone. 
 
 With many a weapon's weight they strike the Foe 
 
 Chief, the dread mace, . . . that deigns no second blow. — 
 Impetuous Conrad, - - Troubler of his throne, 
 
 And Rival of his darings, - - in the van 
 
 Of his bold Tyrians came — a hardy Clan, 
 With haquetons defenc'd. The deadly stone 
 
 They slang, with shunless aim, at Beast, or Man. — 
 With these, had many a Nation sent beside 
 Her Children, - - zeal-inspir'd, or touch'd with Honour's pride. 
 
 
book tv. THE SIEGE BEGUN. 155 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Ripe for the work of that remember'd Day. 
 
 Whose lingering hour was come. - - around the walls, 
 That stood like Fate, th 1 embattled Squadrons pour, 
 Intolerant of ev'ry step's delay : — 
 
 Ere yet they strike, the Town in fancy falls. — 
 The Sarazens, on manv a loftv stand 
 Swarming, make scorn of ev"rv Christian Band : — 
 They mark not where a Drift, unfelt before, 
 Is menacing, . . . erelong to shake the Land ! 
 Engines of death prepare to meet their view, 
 That, long, in ominous concealment grew : 
 Wond'ring, they soon behold, in broad array. 
 
 The brazen-fronted Ram. — the trav*liii£ Tow'r, — 
 Balista huge. . . ArtilTry's mightiest Pow'r, — 
 Petrary, Trebuchet, and Espringell, 
 Scorpion, and War- wolf, and dread Mangonell, — 
 Wide round, like Monsters fell, 
 Calfd from their dark retreat, and drawn in open Day. 
 
 xlviii. 
 
 Regard where, speeding to his Post assign 'd, . . 
 NerVd as with steel, and must'ring all his Mind, . . 
 Each Leader glories ! — Foremost, England's Lord 
 Brings the tall Tow'r. with various Terror >tor , d, 
 
156 
 
 THE SIEGE BEGUN. book iv. 
 
 'Gainst the main Fort, at East, . . his chosen Care : — 
 
 Seek Danger's place, - - and thou shalt find him there ! 
 
 Roll'd on an hundred wheels, the Fabric dire 
 
 Groans on its way : — such the deep-rumour'd sound, 
 When subterranean thunders rock the ground. 
 
 Stage above stage, threefold, its rooms aspire : — 
 
 Under the lowest roof, in potent sling 
 Depending, with vast motion to and fro, 
 The balanc'd Ram premeditates his blow :• — 
 
 O'er-head, Balista to the charge they bring, 
 Commission'd for a City's overthrow : — 
 Loftiest, and last, one Chamber fronts the Foe, - - 
 And they that whirl the sling, or pull the bow, 
 
 Or drive the length'ning pike-shaft, thither came. 
 
 Hence, . . fearful Isthmus ! . . from the high-built Frame 
 To the Wall's adverse top, at will descends 
 A narrow bridge, whose frail contexture bends 
 'Neath fierce Invaders bold, confronting death for fame. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 'Tis up ! — Red Havock starts his prey ! — 
 They storm at once into the fray ! 
 
 From bristling tow'r, and quaking ground, I 
 
 All rings and reels around . . 
 While, without rest, War's thousand Engines play ! — 
 
book iv. THE SIEGE BEGUN. 157 
 
 Such deaf 'ning discord swells the roar, 
 That e'en while Ocean, heav'd at hand, 
 O'er-tumbling, bursts and bounds along the Land, 
 Each heavy-thund , ring surge but seems to kiss the shore ! 
 
 Mark where Balista, gath'ring might, 
 Threatens amazement through the fight : — 
 Yon sturdy Warriors, - - their whole force combin'd, 
 The level beam's resisting coil back-wind : 
 Now, full before the lock'd, retorted Tree, 
 That, groaning, strains, and stretches, to be free, 
 A crag, of pond'rous bulk, impatient lies : 
 The stop remov'd - - away it flies ! 
 Down in scatter'd ruin fall 
 Man, and battlement, and wall ! 
 Not swifter, as the trump was blown, 
 Jericho, thy Tors were thrown ! — 
 Soon fohWd, with a swirling blast, 
 Another and another cast, 
 Ere yet the Foes, with ire distraught, 
 Recriminating vengeance brought. — 
 
 The pause is past : — With aim secure, 
 From lancet-loop, and embrasure, 
 
158 THE SIEGE BEGUN. book iv. 
 
 Venom'd shaft, and quarrel-head, 
 
 Accumulate the Christian Dead ; 
 
 While ready hands, that mock despair, 
 
 Breach, and fissure, fast repair, 
 
 And other walls, by magic rais'd, are there. — 
 
 Nor here, alone, — On ev'ry side, 
 They rage . . . defying, and defied. 
 
 Hark to the shocks perpetual giv'n 
 
 Shocks, returned from echoing Heav , n ! 
 
 LI. 
 
 Westward, the Gallic Prince, with all his host, 
 
 Beleaguers hard yon adamantine TowV : — 
 Fearless of all he dares, - - with brutish boast, 
 Its terrible Defenders brave his PowY. 
 At Philip's voice, far-heard along the shore, 
 Yon Catapult releas'd the darts it bore :— 
 Wing'd with curses, back they came, . . 
 Twice wet with hostile gore. 
 Each feather'd flight sore-struck the Pagan Brood : 
 They, . . firm as rooted cedars of the wood, 
 
 Nor shrank, nor hung the head, for blow, or maim: — 
 Albeit the heavy-mailed frocks they wore 
 Oft yielded, - - ev'ry wound but rous'd them more. 
 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 THE SIEGE BEGUN. 159 
 
 LIL 
 
 HarmM, yet invincible, see Gallia's King 
 
 With other arms the stubborn Tow'r assail ; — 
 The Mine may triumph, though the weapon fail. 
 
 Down the steep trench his Warriors take their spring, 
 
 And solid trees, and delving tools, they bring : — 
 
 The name of labour stands in scorn, . . 
 
 And hope in ev'ry throbbing breast is born. — 
 
 The secret work began. With strenuous care 
 From the strong Fortress they remove 
 
 Its deep foundations, - - propping it, the while, 
 With balks, . . . from under the precarious Pile 
 To sink in flames ; — when sudden, from above, 
 Dart, shaft, and stone, in vollies dire, 
 
 AssaiPd with unexpected War : — 
 
 Now, furnaces, that breath'd a baleful steam 
 
 From naphtha, with bitumen's lurid gleam, 
 
 Pour'd on their heads a flood of fire, — 
 
 While masses, of portentous mould, 
 Beset with quenchless flames all o'er, 
 
 And on the Catapulta's roof down-rolTd, 
 
 Through plank, and wheel, and beam, their passage tore. 
 
 Under a shelving roof of tortois'd shields, 
 
 They brave the burning Storm, though oft it whelm 
 Whole ranks at once - - on targe, and riven helm, 
 
 Shot ruinous : — yet life, not spirit, yields. 
 
160 THE SIEGE BEGUN. book iv. 
 
 Fast as they fall, to the deserted space 
 
 Fresh heroes run ; and many an eager hand 
 Pursues the task, at Philip's high command, 
 
 And shall pursue, though Demons guard the place ! 
 
 Oil. 
 
 Not unreveng'd, those noble Christians die : — 
 
 Chance-led, Morenci's ardent Band, 
 All prim'd for hard attempts, auspicious fly 
 
 Where Gallia's Miners may scarce more withstand 
 The torrent, still descending from on high. 
 Their Chief, . . as Paris fair, — as Hector bold, — 
 
 The God of Battle, and of Love, might seem ; — 
 
 But rage had banish'd ev'ry softer theme, 
 Nor e'en Matilda's Image kept its wonted hold. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 His Gallic brethren left forlorn, 
 By savage Paynim crush'd, . . o'erborne ! — 
 Tamer than his the heart must be, 
 Whose pulses, here, beat steadily. 
 His FollVers, to their Captain true, 
 Rally for vengeance at the view : — 
 At once, unwaiting for command, 
 From each invigorated hand 
 
book iv. THE SlfeGE BEGUN. 161 
 
 Twangs the bow, and parts the sling, - - 
 Not flying serpents heard to fling 
 More fearful whirrings from the wing ! — 
 How oft their missiles hit the mark, 
 Was counted by the frequent spark 
 Struck from the steely plates they tore . . . 
 Sparkles, quencft'd with sallying gore ! — 
 Infested by the darts that flew, 
 Ere yet their enemies they view, 
 This way and that, the Pagans turn, 
 With eyes that for avengement burn, - - 
 While quicker fled, and deeper stood, 
 The points that tasted of their blood : — 
 Unchilded bears, or tigers fell, 
 Gaird by the secret Foe, thus gnarr, and swell ! — 
 When, at the last, yon Troop they spy, 
 Whence th 1 invetVate arrows fly, - - 
 Bolt for bolt, and dart for dart, 
 Clashing in air, asunder start, 
 Or quiver in the pulseless heart ! 
 
 LV. 
 
 Acra, meantime, on th' Eastern side afar, 
 Felt the severer violence of War. 
 
 M 
 
16£ THE SIEGE BEGUN. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 Where " The Accursed TowV o'er-frowns the land, — 
 His battlements against all hostile shock 
 Made sure with girding iron, and with rock, 
 His gates with bossy knob, and brazen bar, — 
 
 The rolling Fort maintain^ its dreadful stand. 
 Fast by the Fabric shines confest 
 
 He of the lion-heart, . . with vivid call 
 Directing Devastation where to fall. 
 Oft as he sounds the loud behest, 
 
 His eager Britons, under several roof, 
 Bring their Machines of death to proof, 
 Disploding many a Tempest on the trembling wall. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Where the pois'd Ram, before the Gate below, 
 With ever-fresh assault alarms the Foe, 
 'Tis Richard's nod that governs ev'ry blow. 
 An hundred Heroes join their straining hands, 
 Back, through its utmost range, to bear along 
 
 The pond'rous Pillar, swung in hempen sling ; 
 Then, with a rush, the full-returning Bands 
 
 Its butting front against yon Portal fling : 
 The stubborn brass rings out a jarring song. — 
 Such force to break, the Foes, with boist'rous joy, 
 
book iv. THE SIEGE BEGUN. 163 
 
 Before their Gate extended fleeces hang, 
 That, yielding, mitigate th' astounding Bang 
 
 Of yon dire Head, returning to destroy. 
 
 Others, - - the fatal engine to annoy, - - 
 
 With forceps, op'ning many a cubit wide, 
 
 Seize its unwieldy length, and wrench aside. 
 
 More yet, with massy beam, dropp'd sudden down 
 By chains, alternate lifted and let free, 
 
 Repeat Cyclopean strokes upon the crown 
 Of that remorseless Ram, encount'ring Tree with Tree : — 
 
 E'en thus, where India's warring Monsters dwell, 
 What time the horn'd Rhinoceros assails 
 Libbard, or Boar, — ere yet his force prevails, 
 
 The Elephant, approaching huge, and fell, 
 
 With stout proboscis working from on high 
 Lays load on his unmindful enemy : 
 Stunn'd, yet secure within his barky scales, 
 
 The Savage oft his baffled stroke repairs — 
 
 As oft, the trunk's descending strength he bears. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 Impetuous Richard, brooking now no more 
 
 Such hindrances, . .amid them springs : — 
 
 All-reckless of an angry storm that sings 
 Round his bold head, (while at his peril sore 
 
 Hard Vet'rans quake,) a Lion's help he brings. 
 
164 THE SIEGE BEGUN. book iv. 
 
 Already hath he cleft each cord in twain 
 
 That held the fleecy shields, - - and flat they fall. 
 Thence tur^d, his Gloves of Battle off he flings, 
 And, while yon wond'rous Tongs the Ram detain, 
 Firm-gripes them, . . and, at one puissant haul, 
 Tears down the frame from Acra^s wall : — 
 Shunn'd in their dire descent, with strange amaze, 
 At once th' enormous Bars clang to the ground. — 
 
 The frighted Conflict pauses round, 
 
 While, with an agonizing burst of sound, 
 Their iron Music, as from Chaos, brays ! — 
 At such wild prowess grand, the War-Field rang with praise ! 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Yon vast-impending Beam alone defies 
 
 Force to destroy, or project to surprize. 
 
 The PowV, still moving on by fated laws, 
 With gravitating sway, and measur'd throw, 
 Comes down upon the rival beam below : — 
 Sound-rising from the shock, at ev'ry blow 
 
 Th' indignant Ram with frowning front withdraws - - 
 
 Then, while the Giant-Hammer stays up-hung, 
 With windy sweep advancing, drives along, 
 Inflicting heavier thunder than before : — 
 Fast as Olympus, the victorious Door 
 Each mighty knock repels with repercussion strong. 
 
book iv. THE SIEGE BEGUN. 165 
 
 LIX. 
 
 Thus foiPd below, they joy to hear o'er-head, 
 
 From the wheeFd Structure's middle stage, the beat 
 Of toiling hands, and of tumultuous feet. 
 There Lei'ster bold, relentless in his heat, 
 With other engines taught the Foe to dread : 
 There, like the Minister of Death, 
 With active arm, and cheering breath, 
 He mingles with his Warriors fell, 
 That ply the potent Mangonel, 
 Whence leap, as from Vesuvius thrown, 
 Piercing shaft, or battling stone, — 
 
 While many a fragment, in its' murd'rous fall, 
 And many a crash, and many a groan, 
 Are heard along the hard-contested Wall. 
 Where, at its height, yon Fabric meets the sky, 
 
 Confronted full with Acra's top-most TowV, 
 
 Slung at the Foemen, clust'ring nigh, 
 
 Crags, from the Matafunda, still offend ; 
 And still th** unerring Bowmen send 
 From off the started string an arrowy showV. — 
 Nor can the Minstrel, nor the Muse's powV, 
 Image what frenzy fir'd the Pagan breast, 
 While thus great Richard galPd them without rest. 
 Hither, from far, in horrid Throngs they prest, 
 
166 THE SIEGE BEGUN; book iv. 
 
 With grins of hate, and eyes of death, 
 
 And curses, poisoning ev'ry breath. 
 
 Here grew the stress, and moment, of the Strife : — 
 
 It seem'd the very Walls had life, - - 
 
 So tempested the hideous din, 
 
 Above, around them, and within — 
 
 So fast, and furious, went, and came, 
 
 Pernicious things, of ev'ry name, 
 
 To break, or gash, or sear, Man's quiv'ring frame ! 
 
 LX. 
 
 But Night is in the Sky, and o'er the ground 
 Slow draws her all-concealing mantle round. — 
 
 Nor Sleep delays, her healing balms to bring 
 
 Nought waking, . . save the Spirit of Britannia's King. 
 
 END OF BOOK IV. 
 
167 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 
 
 Lives there a Chief, whose tiger-heart 
 
 In mockery holds the throe, 
 
 That sympathizing Natures know, 
 When his flesh'd Warriors act their tragic part ?- 
 Forbidding from the sacred rolls of Fame, 
 Thus let me hail his name : — 
 O thou, in whose congenial breast 
 The fire-eyed Furies make their nest, 
 Aye musing, in thy calmest mood, 
 On Ruin, Horror, Groans, and Blood ! — 
 Unchained Dragon of the Earth ! — 
 Black-soul'd Murder's blackest Birth ! — 
 Here, in fancy, take thy stand, 
 
 Where Death, enrob'd in gory shroud, 
 
 And yelling from his charnel-throat aloud, 
 In Gorgon-Majesty bestrides the Land ! — 
 
168 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. book v. 
 
 Yet is yon King of Terrors the bound Slave 
 
 Of Him on high, . . nor strikes, but at His call. — 
 Hath Heav'n predestin'd Acra's fall 
 
 Under the Christian, as, of yore, 
 
 " The Lord remember'd David," when he gave 
 To his young hand the Philistine's huge glaive, 
 Making Gath tremble ? — Off he tore 
 From the fal'n trunk her Giant's head, . . and bore 
 Triumphant round the field the ghastly Ball : 
 It seem'd a Talisman, to save 
 Embattled Salem, and her Legions brave. 
 
 " Philistia, hail thy King !"— 'Twas David's call :— 
 Her Strengths were tott'ring on the shore, - - 
 Nor long ere she beheld Saul's conq'ring banners wave. 
 
 E'en thus may Ptolemais fly, . . 
 Mosque, and Minaret, and Dome, 
 And ev'ry Wall, and ev'ry Tow'r, . . 
 Before the Storm of Engin'ry 
 
 Turn'd, in God's Right, against unhallow'd Pow'r ! — 
 And if, by sentence from the Sky, 
 Thou sink like Pagan Rome, 
 
 Proud City ! not alone in this rude hour 
 
 A Briton from thy wreck shall rise to fame : — 
 The Bard, . . himself a Briton, . . with an eye 
 Kindling at his own prophecy, 
 
 Sees, through a long Millenium, Days to come, 
 
aooK v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 169 
 
 When England, still the same, 
 
 With labour shall bring forth a Name, 
 
 Here to be laurel'd with a wreath 
 
 So dazzling bright, . . nor Time, nor Envy's breath, 
 Shall pale its verdant Immortality ! 
 
 Then, siege-renowned Acra ! shall thy Wall, — 
 By Britons warded, . . not assail'd, as now, — 
 Behold another Unbeliever bow 
 
 Before another Christian's Heart, and Hand ! — 
 Shall miracles obey thy call, 
 
 And make thee stoutly stand, 
 
 Great Sydney ? Else, what pow'r, above the height 
 
 Of mortal valour, . . mortal force, . . 
 May keep thee bold and busy, Day and Night, 
 While, ever on the watch, thine aching sight 
 
 Shall twice attend the Moon through all her course ? — 
 And, could thy sinews falter, or thy frame 
 Ask food, and rest, in Nature's name, — 
 Toils, and Alarms, and Foes without remorse, 
 And all the raging Demons of the fight, 
 
 And thine own Soul's indomitable flame, 
 Should grant thee scarce an hour to press the crying claim ! 
 
 More marvels yet ! — Though born to lead 
 Britannia's Battle round her Ocean-Reign, - - 
 Yet, call'd from off thy native Main, 
 
 At Asia's utmost need, 
 
nO THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 It shall be thine to strike the Foes 
 In their own Empire, - - Land. 
 Piercing Futurity, I see thee stand 
 Where Acra once in tow'ring pride arose, . . 
 And take the tumbled ruins in command. — 
 And dost thou full-perform the perilous Trust ? — 
 Yes — (Ter the hurly rings thy heartsome tone, 
 
 Through each immortal hour, . . 
 As round thee still those perish'd walls were thrown, 
 That stood for ages. Shelter thou hast none 
 From those wide-throated engines, as they pour 
 Without a pause — no shelter, save the dust 
 At evYy tube's infuriate roar 
 Plough'd into mounding hills . . . while stone from stone 
 In scatter'd ruination blown, 
 
 Leave nought to be defended ! — Nought ? The Life 
 
 Of that good Quarrel thou hast made thine own ! — 
 I see them turn — I hear them groan- — 
 Your balls are death — your sabres rash them down — 
 Victoria ! — Bring the palm ! — In brass record the strife ! 
 
 Nor he alone an hundred Worthies more 
 
 Carry our Name, at once, to ev'ry shore, . . . 
 Brethren in high Exploit. — Britannia ! Say, 
 Shall pang, on pang, at each heroic Birth, 
 
 Exhaust thee ? — Shall no second ARTHUR spring, 
 With boundless Empery to sway 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 171 
 
 Thy Realm of Glory, as her Battle-King ? — 
 O for a Conq'ror, Fame's whole trump to fill, 
 Marching in arms o'er all the Earth ! . . 
 Prompt, at the cry of Countries far away, 
 
 To draw yon ranging Serpent's venom'd sting 
 
 To seek, and crush, th' Enslaver, . . potent still, 
 And of unmaster'd will, 
 Though bruis'd, and cursing Trafalgara's Day ! — 
 
 And must the Muse let down her soaring wing ? - - - 
 No transcendental Briton summon her to sing ? 
 
 Hero of Heroes, hail ! — 
 
 From the dark shades of Time, stand forth to light ! — 
 For once enduring praise, lay by 
 Thy shield of Modesty, 
 Adorning, . . . not protecting thee from sight. 
 And though thy tongue suppress the Tale 
 
 That ne'er could finish, - - deign to take the crown 
 A kneeling Nation brings to thy renown ! — 
 Demigod, stand forth to light ! — 
 Now I behold thee . . haloed by a Throng 
 
 Of Captains, round thy burning sphere 
 
 Each like a tributary flame, 
 
 Rous'd by the breath of him that speaks thy name ! — 
 I mark yon Servant-Soldiers, in the rear . . . 
 Their meanest worthy of a Song 
 
172 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. book v. 
 
 E'en by obedience to their Leader's word 
 For then must blood come out ! — But he, whene'er 
 The forward Spirit of his high career 
 
 Wants danger, and demands the laboring sword, 
 Shall teach them ignorance of fear, 
 Till they do kiss the track of their death-daring Lord ! 
 
 Thou, Thou art He, . . . foredoomed, ere Time begun, 
 
 To march abroad in glory, - - brightening still 
 Through the wide course thou hast to run, — 
 
 Sublimer in resolve, and mightier far 
 In " Labours," than Alcmena's mighty Son, 
 With Gods high-seated on Parnassus 1 Hill. — 
 Bellipotent ! Begin thy round ! — 
 Purge the great Globe, from bound to bound, 
 Of Pest, and foul Pollution, all the air 
 Loading with virulence, of pow^r to kill 
 
 The Soul of Man, — affliction, worse to bear, 
 Than Hydra, Lion, or Hel?s trinal Hound ! — 
 Red Moloch — Mammon — Belial — meet my view, - - 
 Inflaming all th 1 infernal Crew, 
 
 Led by their horrid King. In human form 
 
 I see them, . . wielding earthly sword and fire^ . . 
 Fall on the Nations, in devouring swarm, 
 And blast the fields, (or give them blood, for dew,) 
 
 And rase the Town, the Temple, and the Throne !■ 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 173 
 
 Ere all be ravag'd by the scouring Storm, 
 
 Rise, Champion of the World ! — In vengeance dire, 
 Put on thine arms anew, - - 
 And, to the Godless, make the God of Battles known ! — 
 
 He, storing in thy breast His waken'd ire, 
 
 With Counsel, to pursue, . . 
 
 And all-subduing PowY to crown, . . 
 
 The purpose of His awful frown, 
 
 Delivers the dread Bolt into thy hand alone ! 
 
 Below thy foot already gasping lie, . . 
 Or flee to some protecting shore, . . 
 Each prime Commander, by tli* Arch-Enemy 
 Sent rashly forth to try 
 
 Thy prowess. — Gnashing, with insensate rage 
 E'en by that heart unfelt before, 
 Thy very self he dares engage, 
 
 And stand thy rush, ""mid yon re-bellowing Plain. — 
 No more shalt thou demand in vain 
 To front him in the flush of all his powT, 
 And strike for more than life whole Kingdoms for a stage ! 
 
 The golden Morn shines out at last, 
 Consummating thy weary wishes past ! — 
 Yet must the Muse leave all-untold 
 
 In her Sybilline Song, 
 
 That bears me with diviner force along, 
 
174 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. book v. 
 
 The Fates of that astounding Day : — - 
 
 Nor gifted Bards to come, 
 
 Though etfry Muse on the Mseonian lay 
 Breathe flames, . . and all, in aspiration bold, 
 
 Would shake with Paeans the celestial Dome 
 
 At Victory's great hour, shall safe behold 
 
 Yon Plain, — or, wwbeholding, dare essay 
 To light with Fancy's idle ray 
 A Triumph . . down the stream of endless ages roll'd ! 
 
 Comet of War ! - - Bright Sun of Peace ! - - Farewell !— 
 Thy proud Corrival in the dazzling Field 
 Of Britain's Honour, . . like thyself on fire 
 To vindicate the Cross, . . reclaims my lyre : — 
 I hear his trumpet's angry swell, . . 
 And the hurl'd rocks that fly from his resounding shield ! 
 
 I. 
 
 The Sun returns, - - - but, long ere yet he rose, 
 Had heard, unseen, the fresh-contending Foes. — 
 While fiery Richard still drove on the War 
 
 Against yon stubborn Fort, - - and, from the plain, 
 With onset, thund'ring far, 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 175 
 
 On Gate, and Battlement, and Tow'r, 
 Those dread mechanic Forces plied in vain, . . 
 
 Though many a track of mischief told their powV, — 
 The sieged Arabs, ris'n to fiercer pride, 
 With loud, opprobrious tongue his Host defied, 
 Still pouring damage down, from hour to hour. 
 Full oft the Christian, pausing from his toil, 
 Dealt stern regards among the lawless Crew, 
 As, from aloft, with insult ever new, 
 They fflTd the spaces of that hostile coil. 
 
 II. 
 
 Tow'ring o'er evVy Giant-Form around, - >. 
 Where Slaughter thrives, there glorying to be found, 
 One Sarazen in foremost place there stood, . . . 
 Antagonist of Goodness, and the Good — 
 Othman — by sov'reign destination, first 
 In rule, . . and, with pre-eminence accurst, 
 Of Mahomed's blaspheming Brood, the Worst. 
 
 His trunk, and massive magnitude of bone, 
 Squared into rugged strength, as he were Stone, — 
 His brows low-bent, with over-shadowing frown, 
 As thickets hang their shaggy horrors down, — 
 His cavern^ eye-balls flashing fell despite, — 
 He bans all Christians, and the Cause they fight. — 
 
176 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. b< 
 
 While oft his arm goes up, as for a blow 
 To fall in thunder on the general Foe, - - 
 Clanking his hauberk, through its furious rings, 
 Death, on his tongue, and in his port, he brings. — 
 
 With front of brass, big stride, and kimboed hands, 
 Forging a smile, the grim Goliath stands : 
 His Bulk bold- stretches towVd the martial Crowd, . . . 
 And thus, hoarse-bellowing deep, he scoffs aloud : — • 
 
 III. 
 
 " Ho ! Pygmy-Babblement r by fits, he cried, 
 Back-hurling still the darts that pierced his hide, . . 
 " Urchins of Knighthood ! Damsels of the Cross ! 
 What makes you here ? — It pains me to behold 
 Your weak unsheltered softness all-exposed 
 To the rough blast of Battle. Cease, for pity, 
 Your man-like toils ! — Yet, Women though ye be, 
 Stand ye so long, with these uncounted Swarms, 
 Before one crazy Tow'r ? — In ages gone, 
 'Twas hardy Stuff, and baffled e'en the Bold ; — 
 Now, . . yonder sea-gull, with his passing wing, - - 
 Nay, by the Crescent, Ye,-- might brush it down !- 
 And is it thus ye keep your valiant vow 
 To Europe's trusting fools ? - - thus march to fame ?- 
 If death ye seek, vile Vagrants ! better far 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 177 
 
 Crawl to jour graves at home, and rot in peace, 
 (Peace best beseems you !) than stand ling'ring here, 
 To feast our curs, . . or with your carcases 
 Pamper the soil, once fatten'd by your Sires." 
 
 IV. 
 
 While thus he raves, or jeers, without control, 
 His greedy vengeance will be stay'd no more : 
 Deeds are his meat, . . . and frothy words are o'er. 
 Wrought up to boundless turbulence of soul, 
 With fangs that grind, and eyes that roll, 
 The Monster, from his castled stand, 
 Hurls crag, and block, on many a cowering band. — 
 Anon, . . employing arms unknown to war, . . 
 Down tow'rd its mark he reaches yon huge bar, 
 Ending in form of a colossal hand : — 
 The jointed claws, contracting round their prize, 
 Catch, with close gripe, a Warrior by the waist, 
 In all his armour, - - then, up-drawn as fast, 
 Have borne him, . . struggling 'mid the skies, 
 In giddy wild amaze, confus'd with ire, . . 
 To the TowYs height, with elevation dire ! 
 Less quick the talon'd Eagle bears away 
 Kidling, or lamb, - - less firmly pins her prey : 
 The wond'ring birds fled screaming as he past. 
 
 N 
 
178 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. book v. 
 
 While yet the Christians doubt their lifted eyes, 
 
 A stranger portent strikes their view ; 
 Shot by an engine down, returning flies 
 
 Yon captur'd Wight, among his brethren true : — 
 The human Weapon strikes !— A human victim dies ! 
 
 Richard ! Thine eye beheld the hideous deed : — 
 Enough : — Extermination is decreed ! — 
 
 " Ladders !" he cries - - and, at his call, 
 
 Their hooks are in the mortis'd wall. 
 
 " Friends ! Pursue a Soldier's way !" — 
 
 'Twas Richard spake— they shall not stay ! — 
 Lords of the sword, and shield, 
 
 That need no trumpet's wak'ning blast, - - 
 Each bosom with Britannic valour steel'd, 
 And God's own Region for a Battle-Field, - - 
 
 Now, make your Memories outlast 
 
 Ambition's loudest Names . . to come, or past ! — 
 Though plough'd in Sculpture's page, 
 
 These have their date: — Ye, thron'd among the Just, 
 Shall wear your crowns through Heav'n's enduring Age, 
 When Adamant hath fail'd, and Pyramids are dust ! 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 179 
 
 VI. 
 
 His lifted iEgis grappling hard, - - 
 The nobler hand for fight prepar'd, - - 
 With the fell speed of climbing flame, 
 And borne as on the wings of Fame, 
 Their Monarch, mounting tow'rd the Foe, 
 Left his keen FollVers far below. — 
 
 Sudden, his targe, that like a rock 
 Had stood through many a sounding shock, 
 Rude-warns the Briton, hous'd beneath, 
 It scarce may fend him, now, from death, . . 
 Such pomTrous masses, downward driv'n, 
 Beat on its roof like bolts from Heav'n ! — 
 Proof, to the core, the constant shield 
 Flings them from its brazen field. 
 Nor hope, nor pow'r, nor purpose, lost, 
 He keeps, unmoved, his fearful post: — 
 When such a trying hour hath been, 
 Then, Richard, thy great heart was seen ! — 
 
 A moment's pause : — Aloft he flies ! — 
 His fortune in that moment lies ! — 
 Now, now, he gains the destin'd bound, . . . 
 Its height presenting a broad ground, 
 Where ranged cars have room to roll : 
 Stern battlements o'er-crown the mole. — 
 
180 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. booi 
 
 Spurning his frail support he stands, - - 
 Nor turns his eye, nor bends his ear, 
 To learn what friendly step is near, - - 
 Arriving, like a Plague, amongst yon grisly Bands ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 Not long he stood : He came not so, 
 To gaze, or parley with the Foe:- — 
 With forward shield, and flying sword, 
 Leaping forthright on all the Horde, 
 Prom side to side he smote amain : — 
 Who felt him . . never breath'd again ! 
 
 Hast thou beheld what spirit throws 
 Th' insulted Lion on his Foes, 
 When he hath challeng'd all the Wood ? — 
 Thou may'st conceive of Richard's mood ! 
 
 DashM with amaze, though vengeance boiPd, 
 One stride the barb rous Rout recoiPd : — 
 That stride precipitates intense 
 Their loud-returning violence. 
 His Orb, to ev'ry weapon's fall 
 Presented, seems a circling wall, 
 Whence, innocent of dint, or wound, 
 Their shivered scymitars rebound. 
 
 Full soon, requiting their accost, 
 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 181 
 
 He greets, again, th' invited Host, . . 
 Nor, yet, exerts him to the most. 
 Not yet ? — Are heavier strokes in store ? — 
 Kneel, Sarazens, and bleed no more ! — 
 Nay, bolder at his life they flew : — 
 His Doings with the danger grew : — 
 The torrent of his wrath, swoFn fast, 
 Hath reach'd its foaming height at last ! 
 Teaching the Terrible to fear 
 His insupportable career, 
 And wid'ning, as he swept along, 
 His proud Ascendant o'er the Strong, 
 He soartf above the loftiest flight of Song ! 
 
 VIII. 
 
 So trivial seem'd the charge to wield 
 The weight of his Vulcanian shield, — 
 So rear'd his chest . . a bulwark bold, 
 Their hardest length of siege to hold, — 
 With such a thundVing Storm of Might 
 His arm rebu^d them in the fight, — - 
 Such wild and ghastly wreck betrayM 
 The whirlwind of his viewless blade, — 
 And, as they struck with fiercer cry, 
 Such withering flashes left his eye, 
 To blast their dreams of victory, — 
 
182 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. book v 
 
 Lennora's self might watch the strife, . . 
 Nor tremble for her Hero's life, 
 Whilst he with all their Battle strove, 
 As, with the Titans, dreadful Jove ! 
 
 Thus far'd the wond'rous Combat long 
 
 Till, hither drawn, the Pagan Throng, 
 Came pouring down, from Wall, and Tow'r, 
 
 To crumble and o'erwhelm his Pow'r. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Soldiers of Heav'n, that, erst, with eager force, 
 Were seen, attendant on his tow'ring course, . . . 
 What stays your needful presence ? — Wing your speed, - 
 Or see the Master of the Battle bleed ! — 
 
 They linger'd hot : — Blame Fortune's cruel wrong ! — 
 While each with vent'rous foot ascended strong, 
 The lab'ring cords (their frailty known too late,) 
 Broke short — succumbing to th' unwonted weight. 
 
 The body's harm unfelt amidst the pain 
 Their souls endur'd at courage prov'd in vain, — 
 More anguish'd at the perils threat'ning hard 
 Their princely Chief (himself his only Guard) — 
 They burn with haste. Upon a firmer stay, 
 Stem Lusignan, with Conrad, lead the way : 
 All mount by loud'ning clamours guided to the Fray. 
 
THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 183 
 
 X. 
 
 They find the noble Richard, whirling still 
 
 His trenchant sword, from point to pommel dyed, 
 And spilling life, at many a crimson rill, 
 From veins, that England's royal Fountains fill, - - - 
 Yet flourishing in all his valour's pride !— — 
 The heart still serv'd into the fainting hand 
 Fresh virtue ; — -stoutly did the Hero stand 
 On weary feet, . . and all their Pow'r defied.— 
 As when the Tree of Jove, that single stood 
 Robust in planted state, . . himself a Wood, . . 
 Assail'd, at once, by the whole Force of Heav'n, 
 Wind, and hot Thunder-ball, and rifting levin, 
 Inflexibly bears all — till, gather'd vast 
 About his reeling top, th 1 incumbent Blast 
 Hath tried his root, . . and, straining all his length, 
 With might condens'd weighs down his wrestling strength ; 
 Yet, if the Fury but a moment tire, 
 He springs upon the Storm in ruffling ire, 
 Scatters the Winds, and braves the cloud-shot Fire, — 
 So Richard : — stagger 'd, now, and bending low, - - 
 Now, loos'd outrageous on the broken Foe, - - 
 He rises unsubdued from each contunding blow. — 
 
184 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. boo 
 
 Thus jeopardied, he views with kindling eye 
 These timely Succours — while the rest contend, 
 Inspirits them, - - and, vowing to defend 
 His brave Defenders, till each vein be dry, 
 Stops for new pow'r to kill, ere yet he chuse to die. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Yon Britons have redeem'd the time at last. 
 
 The costly blood of Richard seem'd to pour 
 From their own vitals, --and his danger past 
 
 Gave prowess, to themselves unknown before. 
 At their head, . . Lusignan, and he of Tyre, 
 With dreadful industry conspire 
 
 Perdition's work, — Yet not religious fear 
 For Europe, menaced in her Chief, struck fire 
 
 From either heart, nor edg'd the swords they drew. 
 Venom , d with civil hate, they come to do 
 
 Brave deeds, for envy :— both would overbear 
 A Rivals worth, and snatch his laurels due, . . 
 While, as their weapons prey'd, 
 It seem'd as each at th" > other airn'd his blade. — 
 Now, Lusignan assaults, with daring hand, 
 
 Omri the fell, - - Arabia's foremost Name, 
 Othman except, of all on Acra's Height : — 
 
 But Conrad, greedy for the noble Game, 
 Will rob the Hunter, - - and with fierce command 
 
 • 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONXLUDED. 185 
 
 Bids the stout Pagan turn : — He, black as Night, 
 Hath answer 'd with his falchion's tongue : — 
 But, wedg'd within the buckler hung 
 
 The harmless blade while Conrad, with a blow 
 
 Of mortal vigour, from his foe 
 
 Struck the grim head, . . that from the lofty wall 
 Descending, loudly told its pond'rous fall : — 
 More loudly was th' achievement sung 
 In many a plausive shout up-sent below. 
 
 Sounding his own exploit, the Tyrian warms 
 At Emulation's flame : — His eye's keen dart 
 Shot Lusignan askance, . . and with a glow 
 Of triumph, sought in ev'ry part 
 New prizes, on that giddy stage of arms. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Conrad, beware ! — On his helm's ringing steel 
 A stroke from yon huge Arab drives amain, 
 Forcing his knee to bend . . his brow to reel : — 
 
 The swift-returning sabre thirsts again 
 
 When Lusignan, by hatred led to save, 
 Caught up the stalwart Foe, and to the plain 
 Down-hurl'd him. — Rescued from the grave, 
 And rising, at his proud Preserver's call, 
 
 Whose rancour borrow'd kind Compassion's part, 
 Conrad up-stood, — then (poison to his heart !) 
 Heard of his life so giv'n, - - and curs'd the Pagan's fall. 
 
186 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. book v. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Scarce had the fresh Contention mingled warm, 
 Ere to the savage Othman, where he fought 
 On yon high Tow'r, and wide destruction wrought, 
 
 Flew tidings of Invasion's wild alarm. 
 
 The tale half-heard — by frantic vengeance caught, 
 
 He scour'd away, - - unhalting till he came 
 Where, by the precipice of Acra's wall, 
 
 Christian and Pagan play'd War's bloody game, 
 Nor loos'd the grappling hold, e'en in their headlong fall. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 What joy the sanguinary Vulture knows, 
 
 When, hovVing o'er the foughten Field, she spies 
 Where, scented from afar, her Quarry lies, - - 
 Such fierce delight remorseless Othman shews. 
 Lock'd in his formidable gripe he bare 
 
 A clubbed Oak, made deadlier, from the mine, 
 With load of craggy bulbs, . . lead, ir'n, and brass, 
 Whose lift might seem all strength of Man to pass 
 Thy strength except, Alcides — yea, but thine I — 
 Th 1 enormous trunk he swings in air, 
 Light as the Shepherd waves a willow-spray : — 
 Death waits its fall, . . . and takes his mangled prey. 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 187 
 
 XV. 
 
 Announcing by the sledge-work of that hand 
 
 His baleful presence, with infuriate look 
 
 He saw, predominant in prowess grand, 
 With Lion-port, and gorgeous trim, 
 And buoyant energy of limb, 
 Doom-dealing Richard . . . and all else forsook. 
 " Caitiff V he cried, (and pierc'd the warring Throng,) 
 " Make boast that Othman deigns to lay thee low !" — 
 He added not, - - but, while his glorious Foe 
 Quick-turn'd him to avenge the wrong, 
 
 His heav'd battoon with stormy force brought down : — 
 Driving aslant from England's royal crown, 
 The shoulder's wide-extended ridge along, 
 
 It pounds upon the shatt'ring wall below. — 
 Then, first, fell Richard, by the might of Man — 
 
 Nor then had fafn but many a toilsome hour, 
 
 And many a goring blade, had quelTd the pow'r 
 That reign'd within him when the strife began.- — 
 
 Sunk prostrate, like a slumb'ring God he lies, - - 
 Yet struggling oft on slacken'd limbs to rise, - - 
 Till faithful hands have borne him from the stour. 
 The rest, on Othman, with confed'rate powV, 
 Like hounds on Eremanthus , Boar, full-ran. 
 His Friends rush in : — All aidance he derides, 
 And, scornful, in his own self-centred strength confides. 
 
188 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 But lo ! . .controlling weariness and pain . . 
 Richard, by rage reviv'd, erect again ! — 
 Eager he found, amidst the vulgar mell, 
 Where yonder Mace, deep-clogg'd with carnage, fell : — 
 Anger's whole Furnace kindling in his eye, 
 Thither he trails along, . . and, ere he die, 
 One stroke for Othman saves — proud passport to the Sky ! 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The Sarazen, amaz'd, upon his Foe 
 
 Breathes fury, . . and with huge two-handed sway 
 Stirring his death-club, machinates a blow, 
 
 Portending to whole Christendom, dismay. 
 
 But ere th' uplifted weight pursue its way, 
 The sword of Richard, rapid as his thought, — 
 
 All Richard waking in the hand that wrought, 
 
 Hath marr'd him : — Down, through cloven brass, and bone, 
 
 And through the stubborn-textur'd gambeson 
 
 O'er his brawn'd shoulder, . . . thence, with trench profound, 
 
 Op'ning his side, by the steel plastron's bound, 
 
 The rav'ning edge grides on. Down cumb'rous falls 
 
 His lopp'd right arm, — support of Acra's walls. — 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 189 
 
 A smile of sated vengeance lighted gay 
 
 The face of sinking Richard — whilst a cry 
 Of torture, yelTd in raving blasphemy, 
 From the fafn Monster, echoed far away ; — 
 But, ere yet ceas'd the sound, ... in dumb, still, death he lay. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 What fall was there, . . that with immediate roar 
 Shook to its firm foundations all the shore ? — 
 
 'Twas GalhVs Deed :— Then tumbled Acra's pride ! — 
 From yonder Tow'r, that many an age had stood, 
 Mocking the siege of Battle, Blast, and Flood, 
 Had Philip drawn the solid Base, before, 
 And upright beams with secret art supplied. 
 Soon, - - to the Victims all unknown, - - 
 Consuming fires, by many a breath strong-blown, 
 Embrac'd the timbers round. — On evVy side 
 
 The Miners fled for life when, with a shock, 
 
 Dire as the downfal of a mountain-rock, 
 The pile, with all its iron-cumber'd Host 
 Of Infidels, in headlong ruin lost, 
 Clang'd thunder, as it broke into the Deep : — 
 There, till Earth's final hour, yon welt'ring Crew shall sleep ! 
 
 3 
 
190 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. book v. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Tremendous as the wild-invading Sea, 
 
 When, slighting ev'ry bar, it hurries on, 
 Overwhelming Life and Land, - - the Chivalry 
 
 Of Gallia through the yawning breach is gone, — 
 Arm'd Europe follVing in. — The Pagan Brood, 
 With hearts that give no harbour to Despair, 
 (Nought but the Wolves of Rage are there !) 
 Welcome the fatal chance, and issuing all 
 From Ballium, Turret, Bartisan, and Wall, 
 With frenzied eagerness, - - their Prophet call — 
 In fancy rend their Prey, and howl for blood ! 
 
 XX. 
 
 Man threatens — but the Battle is the Lord's. 
 Like foaming Oceans met, the desp'rate Foes 
 Plunge deep in death, - - while ev'ry vein that flows 
 
 Reddens the flash of thousand quartVing swords. 
 Look where join in mounting strife 
 Yon Leaders, flush'd with fervent life !— 
 Look again ! — Pale clods they lie, 
 Spurn'd by the Crowds that trample by !— 
 In hurtling fury torn, or prest, - - 
 Their shields dash'd back upon the breast, - - 
 RepelPd — rebounding, — shoaFd aside, — 
 They reel, they toss, in struggling tide, . . . 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 191 
 
 Suck'd in the vortex of the Fray, - - 
 Or flung in fragments far away ! — 
 None stop to pant; — no thought is here 
 Of wound, or weakness - -flight, or fear: — 
 As Battle were a festal game, 
 On all, the mortal Madness came ! 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Lo ! Suddenly, meridian Day seems Night ! — 
 All, still unsated, feast upon the Fight, . . 
 Nor mark where, dense and deep, the Storms of air 
 For Man some heavy Blast of Wrath prepare ! — 
 Strange broken grumblings, inly rolTd, 
 
 As from infuriate Pow'rs, controPd, 
 
 Their dread commission half-unfold: — 
 
 Now, cloth'd in whirls of fiery gloom, 
 
 Yon Ministers of Wrath are come ! — 
 The Seas, blown in with battering shock, 
 
 In froth return from tow'r and rock, - - 
 
 While ev'ry surge that flies the Deep, 
 
 More fiercely rises at the steep, 
 
 To deluge all with drowning sweep. 
 
 The bold Bands pause. — And will they stay, 
 
 Undaunted by the ruthless Day ? — 
 
 Louder, and stronger, soon returns 
 The Hurly, . . and Revenge thrice hotter burns ! 
 
192 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. book v, 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Spirits, that call upon my Voice to pour 
 
 Battle, and Tempest, in contending roar, 
 
 Nerve me with iron for the ventfrous aim ! 
 Give other tones, . . and turn my soul to flame ! — 
 The swell, . . . the stun, of Horrors ! — Mortal tongue 
 In vain would rival, with resounding song, 
 
 The raging trumps— the brazen calls — 
 
 The doubling din of atabals — 
 
 The flying crag — the storming blow — 
 
 Shouts of onset — shrieks of woe — 
 
 Hurricane, in frantic ire — 
 
 Men, like Fiends, down-pouring dire 
 
 Cataracts of boiling fire — 
 
 The flash, that touches but to kill, 
 
 Hissing along from steel to steel, 
 
 And, in the foul eclipse of Day, 
 
 Lighting the sabre to its prey — 
 
 Hail-shot, and darts, in rattling show'r — 
 
 Alarms from toppling wall and towV — 
 
 Troops, in the crash of ruins lost, 
 
 'Mid the full shock of Host and Host — 
 
 Tornado, spouted from the sky, 
 
 Worked up with breaching billows high, 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED 193 
 
 At whose confounding fall, the Brave 
 Lie buried in one briny grave — 
 Battle-peals of ev'ry sound, 
 In Echo's thousand clamours drown'd, . . 
 Hideous clamours, never ended, 
 With bursts of racking thunder blended, - • 
 Till in a whirlwind rapt away, 
 To tell abroad, of Desolation's Day ! — • 
 It seem'd as Fire, and Ether, Land, and Main, 
 With counter-struggling rage had riv'n Creation's chain ! 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Peace ! — The sovereign Word on high 
 Hath stilTd the Winds, and clear'd the Sky !-» 
 The Christian Star shines out at last, - » 
 And the shorn Crescent fades as fast. — 
 
 Lo ! Richard's self, from yonder tow'r, 
 O'erlooks the turn of this great hour : — 
 Like bleeding Mars, aloft he stands, 
 And, flourishing his maimed hands, 
 Pours, as with Bellona's breath, 
 A sound, significant of death ! — 
 
 All heard, amaz'd : — His faithful Train 
 With bounding bosoms hail'd again 
 
194 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. book v. 
 
 That mighty voice, . . and rais'd reply, 
 
 Till Exultation shook the sky ;— 
 
 Richard alive . . is Victory ! — 
 
 Strengthless, - - unarm'd, - - he sways the whole,— 
 
 Still the grand Conflict's vital Soul I 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Hark ! Hark ! - - Triumphant salvoes ring ! — 
 Mourn, Acra ! . . . Thy descent they sing ! — 
 By her own Engines forc'd to fall, 
 As Richard motion , d from the Wall, 
 Each rocky Hold, and Tow'r of trust, 
 And massy Bulwark, lies in dust. 
 For nobler service left, - - alone 
 The Keep, in scowling state, stands on. 
 
 Now, as the Night return'd again, 
 Yon Sarazens, pursued amain, — 
 Hewn down, . . or scaling, as they fled, 
 Hills of the Dying, and the Dead, — 
 Of arms, of cheer, of sinews, reft, — 
 Not one of all their Mightiest left, — 
 
 From all but deathless hatred hurl'd, 
 
 Took their chains . . . and curs'd the World ! — 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 195 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Thus Ptolemais fell. — An Host so dire, 
 
 Fraught with judicial Stores of Punishment, 
 Against the Forts of War hath not been sent, 
 Since Titus, mov'd by visitings from God, 
 Led Rome to Salem — arm'd with Storm, and Fire, 
 
 Came thund'ring in, like Death on his pale Horse, 
 And, with predestinated course, 
 Over her scatter^ Streets in burning Vengeance rode ! 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 For ever in remembrance live the Day, 
 When Acra, like a vision, past away ! — ■ 
 Already, walls, of perdurable frame, 
 Swift-rising, hold the Victors up to Fame. — 
 Henceforth, shall armed Christendom no more 
 Confus'dly leap to Conflict on the shore, 
 But land in her Dominions, trouble-free, 
 And, there entrench'd, command whole Syria's Key. 
 Now may the Pilgrim, spirited anew, 
 Tow'rd Salem his religious walk pursue, - - 
 Or, worn with tossing on the spumy Deep, 
 Rest ere he move, . . nor Battle burst on sleep. 
 
196 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 While, to the Christian, Ptolemais fell, 
 Great Saladine, . . . the feint rememb , ring well 
 That cost him Tyre, . . . return'd, with half his PowV, 
 To rase the record of yon treach'rous hour. 
 
 Conrad, all eye and ear, his purpose found, . . 
 And reach'd, on Fancy's wing, the distant ground : 
 " Thither, to-morrow's light shall find me gone !" — 
 Ah, ne'er shall he behold another Sun ! — 
 
 Th' AssAssiN-Race, (from Libanus they came, . * 
 And secret Murder thanks them for a name,) 
 Immitigably lurking, watch'd the hour, 
 When feasted Conrad sought his nightly tow'r. 
 Late had he shielded from the coward-knife 
 By these employ'd, a Christian. In the strife, 
 Their chief he slew but pays it with his life. — 
 
 There, Judgment fell ! — Dark, wily paths he tried, 
 And, in a wily ambush, darkly died. — 
 Fool of Ambition ! May the peace of Heav'n 
 Rest on thy closing deed all else forgiv'n ! — 
 
 Stern Lusignan, — -his daring Rival down, — 
 With eager hope anticipates a Crown. 
 Pride revels in the promise : — Vain, or true, 
 The prophecy, . . nor Seer, nor Sybil, knew. 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 197 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 While they that fought for Heav'n, with solemn cry 
 Sang praises to the Lord of Victory, 
 For Acra won, - - the Soldan, from afar, 
 With fruitless heed sent Succours to the War. — 
 Twin-born with Othman, and more black in fame, 
 Was he that led them : — Mahmoud call his name. 
 To guile the guileless, ev'ry art he knew, 
 Self-taught, . . . yet Saladine believ'd him true. 
 
 Since Othman fell, three Moons have past away, 
 
 When troop on troop, flashing a brighter day, 
 
 Successive climb yon mountain's lofty brow : — ■ 
 
 They halt ; — they dart their fiery eyes below : — 
 
 " Where stand the Tow'rs of Acra ?" — Ask the wind, 
 
 That hath not left their very dust behind !— 
 
 " What broader, loftier Bastions threat the sky ?" — ■ 
 
 Ask of the Christians ! — Hark ! Their shouts reply ! — 
 
 While, struck with fell amazement, back they stood, . 
 Like fleets by seas encounter'd at the flood, . . 
 A breathless Arab, from his dungeon flown, 
 Hath found the host, . . and told, with many a groan, 
 Acra's dire doom. — No longer needs their stay : — 
 To Saladine they drag the news away. — 
 
193 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. book v. 
 
 In Tyrus had the Monarch plied the sword 
 Erewhile, nor rested till she bail'd him Lord, . . 
 Restoring wall, and tow'r, a chosen Few 
 
 He stayed : — the Rest for sieged Acra flew 
 
 Himself to follow swift, . . with vict'ry full in view. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Nurs'd in the cradle of religious Rage, 
 And grammar'd in the Prophet's lying page, 
 The Sultan disbeliev'd by Fate, . . . and drew 
 From " darkness visible," what light he knew. — 
 Yet his, at last, may be the promise giv'n 
 To Some that know not God — a Throne in Heav'n ! — 
 Great Saladine, or None, could press the plea ; 
 For, — Faith except, — a very Saint was he; 
 
 True to his errors, for he deem'd them true — 
 
 Yea, while he kill'd the Christian, . . touch'd with rue. 
 Justice, with Mercy married, wove his crown; 
 The Fal'n he rais'd, and beat th' Oppressor down. 
 Age, Want, and Widowhood, shall gain him Grace, . . 
 And orphan-babes, that smil'd in his embrace. 
 Are Courage, Patience, Temp'rance, priz'd on high, . . . 
 And (God's own Image,) pard'ning Clemency ? — 
 Then shall Arabia's unbelieving King 
 'Mid the blest Choir above be granted leave to sing. ! 
 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 199 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Now, on his eager march, he spied afar 
 Mahmoud, returnM from unattempted War : — 
 With hand upheld, and bosom all on flame, 
 The Sov'reign stood : — No salutation came ! — 
 Grief at his heart, — but calmness in his look, — 
 High Salaheddin the dread omen took. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Taught by the Captive that escap'd his chain, 
 
 Mahmoud rehears'd at full the tale of pain, . . 
 
 Deep curses breathing, with despiteful rage, 
 
 On him that wrought their woe, the Tyrian Sage : — 
 
 Mahmoud. 
 
 " His crafty conjurations rous'd anew 
 Yon Christian Hounds, . . by civil enmities 
 Drawn from their scent : — Old Wilhelm calPd them in, 
 And bade them at each other bark no more. ,, 
 
 Saladine. 
 
 " It may not be : — Ere Ptolemais fell, 
 In Gaza long he lay, . . and there yet lies, . . 
 An idle Pris'ner, barr'd from speech, or pow'r." 
 
200 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. book v. 
 
 Mahmoud. 
 
 " Pris'ner no longer. — Pardon, mighty Sire, 
 My tongue; that, rashly faithful, wounds thine ear ! 
 Prince Hadel, at the fair Matilda's call, 
 Hath slipp'd yon Dotard's fetter, — Hadel, . . now 
 His Captive's Captive :— on her look he lives : — 
 Let but the Dame command her Worshipper 
 To sheathe his dreaded falchion, — yea, abjure 
 Our Prophet's law, — I say not, he should yield, . . 
 But, he should pause." 
 
 Saladine. 
 
 " Caitiff, call back the word, . . 
 Or I shall soil my sabre with thy blood ! — 
 No — thou art brave, . . and Death appals thee not ; — 
 Shame be thy sharper torment: — Swift repair 
 To him, whose ruin is thy heart's foul hope : — 
 Low at his feet reveal thy villainy — 
 Crouch for his grace — and when that lofty Spirit 
 Hath pardon'd thee, (he shall not deign to harm,) 
 Perform our further bidding. — Hence, awhile, 
 Till I require thee : — If thou look for life, 
 Scorpion ! shut up thy venom ; — once again 
 Discharge it, . . and a fire surrounding thee 
 Shall scorch, till on thyself thou turn thy sting !" 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 201 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 " What means the Tyrant ?" Thus, with furled brow, 
 And ulcerated heart, he murmur'd low : — 
 " 6 Call back the word T — Slander mine own true tongue 
 With charge of slander, for a touch of blame 
 
 On Hadel, sold to love ! — And love for whom ? 
 
 Yon crafty Witch, whose hate, pursuing hard 
 
 Our Cause, . . our Creed, . . our Prophet, . . and our Name, 
 
 Still storms them with a battery of pray'rs. — 
 
 So ! — The pure quintessence of all my crime 
 
 Lies here that I have shewn the spectacle 
 
 Of Hadel, . . whining for a Christian Maid ! — 
 
 Good ! Good ! — The Despot, then, abhorrently 
 
 Turns from the thought, - - and, when his Brother's name 
 
 Shall wither, as my blasting proofs come on, 
 
 Will break from Nature's bond, and sign him dead : — 
 
 Then shall my starved revenge be surfeited 1" 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Thus, light from Hell came flashing. — While the Pest 
 With feign'd fidelity, such tales addrest, 
 His eye upon the royal Hearer stay'd, . . 
 Whose mind, without a vizor, stood betray 'd : — 
 
THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 
 
 Though kingly Wrath spoke terrors with his tongue, 
 Around his brow Suspicion's cloud was hung, 
 While in fresh mem'ry seem'd forgotten fears to throng. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Toward Hadel, malic'd hate yon Demon bore : — 
 
 His Orb aris'n, proud Mahmoud shines no more. — 
 
 Nor jealousy was all ; — his fell despite 
 More deeply rankled, in a Brother's right: — 
 Oft had the Prince, of yore, while Othman stood, 
 Muzzled the Tiger in his rage for blood : — 
 Reproofs upon his nature tried in vain, 
 Once, Hadel's dread right-hand had stretch'd him on the plain. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Now, Mahmoud, on his mission deep-intent, 
 Retires aloof, o'er black revenge to brood — 
 Revenge on Hadel, . . though, in Hadel, all 
 The Saracenic Race he doom to fall ! — 
 As lab'ring iEtna, dark and foul he stood — 
 iEtna, 'mid whose infernal caldrons pent, 
 The tearing Fiends of Ruin rave for vent, . . 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 
 
 Until ten thousand thunders give them way ; — 
 
 Then, with displosion dire, 
 Out-bursting on the Paradise of Day, 
 They blast the homes of Man, and flood a World with fire ! 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Amid such turbid visions, the grim Chief 
 Bows on the royal missive, couch'd in brief. 
 What mandate from the Monarch threatens there, . . 
 The note, still jarring on a Brother's ear, 
 May shew: — but, hark ! His broken speech I hear :— 
 " Hadel, - - Arabia's Pillar, and her Pride ! 
 Where are these Names ? — Hath Love, with puny hand 
 Assailing, laid thy glories in the dust ? — 
 Nay - - fall thou shalt not : — I have sent thee words 
 To scald thy cheek, — to start thee from repose, — 
 And make thee spurn thy silken chains away."" 
 
 So minded, Salaheddin, worn with care, 
 Summon'd the slumbring Hadel to rough war. — 
 Eastward from Acra, stands Kourouba's Height : — 
 There must the Brethren their dread swords unite. 
 Yet more : — Yon royal Captives, and their Train, 
 Shall Hadel to the Christians yield again. 
 
THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. hook v. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Longtime the Hero, . . thoughtless of a doom 
 That menac'd Love's bright firmament with gloom, . . 
 On hope had fed. But, late, for many a day, 
 The Vestal to her presence barr'd his way. 
 Denial, on denial, rack'd him sore : — 
 " Absence ! . . Thy reign of rigour shall be o'er, . . 
 Nor frowns forbid, nor tears remonstrate, more !" — • 
 Her evVy wish beside, ere yet betray'd, - - 
 The glance, the word, . . . the silence, -- were obey'd : 
 Here, — only here, — his pow'r control'd the Maid. 
 
 With port and look that imitate disdain, 
 She stood, . . . nor, at his greeting, snuTd again. 
 Ktis fondly pleaded wishes court her ear : — 
 She thwarts them, in Religion's name severe, — 
 Shades, with bewildered hand, her anxious brow, 
 And shews the hallow'd Cross, that sanctifies her vow. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Sweet Maid, whom Angel-Purity befriends, 
 
 Trust not the pendent Symbol that adorns 
 That beauteous bosom ! — -Love's dominion scorns 
 
book v, THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 
 
 The pow'r of amulet, or mystic spell, 
 Or incantation : — constant he attends, 
 With undiscover'd watch, . . and secret sends 
 Feat messengers, who serve him well, 
 To seize proud Spirits that rebel.-— 
 Though heav'n- ward soaring, . . is thy wing secure 
 From stooping to a Pagan's lure ? — 
 
 Love knows but one Religion : — all that feel, 
 His faith receive - - his yoke endure ; 
 
 He makes the Stedfast reel, . . 
 And oft, in tyrant-sport, requires 
 Baptiz'd, and Infidel, to melt in mutual fires. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 How ? — Can Matilda lapse from care, . . 
 Nor struggle in the liming snare ? — 
 Ah ! Many a Nymph, against the crafty sin 
 Watching, abroad, - - forgets to look within. 
 Love hath fair Vassals, . . boasting to be free ; 
 
 So light the chain, restraint seems liberty : 
 
 She sits, a Queen — he kneels, a Suppliant, still ;— 
 The Suitor, -- not the Courted, - - wins his will. 
 
 The Virgin's gutting Thought had painted Love 
 
 Like Sympathy, nor with the cheat she strove : 
 
 " Can Sympathy destroy ? ... or is it shame, 
 So to pour thanks on a Preserver's name ?— 
 
206 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. book v. 
 
 In him, too true, Love's malady appears, 
 
 Yet, sure, Compassion, free from guilty fears, 
 May heal hurt Kindness with the balm of tears ?" 
 
 While the sad Lover his dark lot bewails, 
 Thus Pity pleads with Rigour . . . and prevails. — 
 Virgin, be warn'd again ! — Love's nets are nigh — 
 The bird that waits the Fowler, . . . asks to die : 
 Too late, Ensample, Fear, Monition, move, 
 When sublimated Friendship turns to Love ! — 
 
 Each morn, with milder frown, she meets again 
 The Chief return'd, . . . nor damps him with disdain ; 
 And, if he fail to wrest the mutual vow, - - 
 Less forcefully Rejection stamps her brow. 
 
 XL. 
 
 
 O soon she feels the tempest, and the roll, 
 As Piety, and Passion, toss the soul ! — 
 Long had she saiTd a gently-swelling Deep, 
 Where smooth-wing'd Zephyrs lulFd Alarm to sleep : 
 E'en Prudence, like a faithless Pilot, lay, 
 Nor warn'd of perils on the flatt'ring way. — 
 Shook from her easy dream, a Gulf she saw, . . 
 And felt th' inevitable vortex draw ! — 
 
 Heavy the load, when Christian Souls deplore 
 Sin, pressing hard, . . . that never prest before ! — 
 Yet Grief hath weights, that bruise th' Offender more — 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 207 
 
 'Tis then, when Guilt, . . adhering, as it winds 
 Around the heart, . . a lawless welcome finds — 
 When for protecting grace he prays to Heav'n, - - 
 Trembling in secret, lest that grace be giv'n ! 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Such bitt'rest anguish . . is it known to thee, 
 Matilda ? — Thine, may sin, or frailty, be ? — 
 Man reads not hearts, - - to Him alone display'd, 
 Whose hand their intricated windings made : — 
 Mine be the ruder artifice, to spell 
 What stands to view, . . and the broad semblance tell. 
 
 Alas ! full sure, the Maid, with aching mind, 
 In doubts, and desolating terrors, phi'd, - - 
 And oft, I ween, her soul from Heav'n declin'd. 
 In vain around her pillow breath'd the rose ; 
 Sleep rarely came - - nor, coming, brought repose : 
 In gold or crystal serv'd, the dainties lay 
 Forgotten, . . and her spirits ebb'd away ; 
 Or if she found a smile, to veil her care, 
 It was thy ruinated smile, Despair ! 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Can love, - - such love as long hath bound the soul 
 Of Hadel, with a stronger chain control ? — 
 Whoe'er shall doubt, ne'er heard . . ne'er felt the sound, 
 While smother'd moans of misery profound 
 
THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. book v. 
 
 Stole from the bosom of his broken Maid, 
 Upon the couch of sorrowing sickness laid — 
 Ne'er watch'd, while Anguish on her spirit fell, 
 Till each faint sigh seem'd a long, last farewell ! 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Thus, Love subdued him — but, with softer lure, 
 Commiseration made the Captive sure. — 
 And were those tender cares that khTd his rest, 
 To her, in all their mast'ring force confest ? — 
 No — Passion rose to speak — but Love, the more, 
 Aw'd into silence the forbidden lore : 
 Themes, foreign to the heart, employ'd his tongue, 
 While, falsely tranquil, o'er her form he hung ; 
 And still, as lengthen'd suff 'ring stole the hue 
 That charm'd erewhile, ... his melting fondness grew :— 
 Then, first, is known, how rich, how dear, the Prize, 
 When his ear dreads to catch the with'ring word ..." she dies !* 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Now, let the hapless Virgin tremble most 
 
 Now, fear to fall, — by very Conscience lost ! — 
 Late, when the Lover, bare from all disguise, 
 
 His glowing heart laid open to her eyes, 
 
 At once the danger, and the warning, came ; 
 To mark, was to defeat, th 1 unhallowM aim ; 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 209 
 
 Health, and the nerve elastic, and the pride 
 Of Maiden-purity, stood firm-allied :-— 
 
 But, the worn body, and the shatter'd mind, 
 
 What help frorn these, while ev'ry Pow'r combin'd 
 With Hadel, . . and insidious Love, conceaFd 
 In Virtue's garb, came suing her to yield N#- 
 How might the Pagan from her heart be driv'n, 
 When, . . meriting to sit with Saints in Heav'n, . . 
 He check'd his hand, while in his pow'r she lay, — 
 Won by a helpless look, resign'd the Day, 
 And learn'd from love . . to cast love's hope away !— 
 
 Thus did the self-renouncing Hero gain 
 What Persecution long pursued in vain : — 
 The syllable supprest, — the govern'd eye, — 
 Th' inflated bosom, . . only seen to sigh, — 
 Such pleadings, to her heart resistless Went, 
 The thousand tongues of Love less eloquent ! 
 
 XLV. 
 
 " Just Heav'n ! . . should it be mine to recompense 
 With words of enmity, or looks of scorn, 
 My life's DehVrer, - - my supporting Friend ?— • 
 Does craft inspire him? — Can dishonest love 
 Prompt cares like these ? — Dishonest were my heart, 
 Thus readings his !— Did e'er Ungodliness 
 
210 THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. book v, 
 
 Resign its purpose with a patient smile ? — 
 
 Hath he not mortified . . yea martyr'd, Hope, 
 
 With his own hand, - - that I might rest in peace ?-— . 
 
 This Man (or confidence in Man must fail), 
 
 Corrupt in Faith, . . is, in performance, pure :— 
 
 Virtue, in one dark Infidel may shine 
 
 More brightly, than in myriads that believe, . . 
 
 And Heav'n expand her everlasting Doors 
 
 To him, - - while tainted Christians knock in vain ! — 
 
 Lord of all mercy, - - to thy Fold receive 
 This wand'ring Sheep ! and (O forgive my suit, 
 If lawless !) . . let thy Handmaid sound the call !" 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 From th* altar of her heart arose the pray'r, 
 And, . . crost, or heard, . . left consolation there : — 
 Such orisons unbind the hard control 
 Of Grief, and ventilate the stagnant soul. 
 Through each deserted channel, freshly flows 
 Warm life, . . and to her cheek restores the rose. 
 
 Still faithful to herself, the heav'nly Maid 
 Crown'd words with deeds, . . and labour'd, while she pray'd. 
 
 Soon as, again, the Warrior whisper'd love, 
 
 Deaf to the sound, and armM as from above, 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 211 
 
 His false, foul, Prophet she derided — stood 
 Like Deborah, . . and hymn'd The Saviour-God. 
 Now, on her lips, His Word, His threat'nings hung ; 
 Now, all Redemption's Wonders filTd her awful Song. 
 
 XLVIL 
 
 Each look, and motion, and mellifluent sound, 
 His energies in strong suspension bound. 
 And ever, as he rul'd the struggling cry 
 Of admiration, strain'd to ecstasy, . . 
 Him she ador'd, who gave to her desire 
 The tongue of wisdom, and the soul of fire ; 
 Then, flaming like a Seraph, rose anew, 
 And pour'd the blaze of Truth upon his view. 
 
 Alas, too zealous Maid ! Not thence the spell 
 That made his ear thy pris'ner : — Trust me well, 
 
 His faith is in the song— the words are air, 
 
 The Speaker, not the message, all his care : 
 Bright seems the page, and the Religion blest, 
 Whose inspirations heave that lovely breast : — 
 
 Thy form remov'd, he sees the light no more, . . . 
 
 And Mahoun reigns unrival'd, as before. 
 
 Yet, warmly confident in things that seem, 
 
 The Vestal dotes on her delicious dream, 
 
 Lulls into stillness, Dread, and Doubt, and Woe, 
 Nor shudders, if his cheek profanely dare to glow ! 
 
£1& THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. book v. 
 
 XL VIII. 
 
 So r#is ? d, she gives her spirit room to play,?« 
 Thanks Night for sleep, . . nor deprecates the Day. — 
 From his torn heart, the blessed change removes 
 Fear, . . and awakes to joy the drooping Loves :-~ 
 'Tis Rapture, . . magnified by sweet surprize, 
 As charms unthought still open on his eyes,-r-? 
 Those, cultur'd, . . . these, by genial Nature thrown 
 In choice profusion round herself alone. 
 
 Still, grave by rule, to sit with mien austere, . . . 
 To frown abhorrence at the voice of cheer, 
 Or with pi?d precepts load the laboring ear, . . . 
 Devotion hath not schooPd her :-— well she knows, 
 What spring from timely relaxation grows. 
 Who drest the Earth in brilliancy, and bloom, 
 Calls Man to gladness, . . and rebukes his gloom : 
 Speech to adorn, He set with dimpling smiles 
 Its organ, . . and to Fancy left her wiles. 
 
 Such, wiles Matilda knew. Sad cares apart, 
 Hers was the glittering eye . . the dancing heart.-— 
 Religion's hallo w'd work was her employ : — 
 Kind H^av'n approv'd ; and the reward was . . Joy. 
 
book v. THE SIEGE CONCLUDED. 213 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Thus, in the Giver's gracious Name carest, 
 Were e'en her vacant hours divinely blest. — 
 See ! - - pleasure blending sweet with heav'nly love, - - 
 Her feet seduce her to yon flowery Grove, 
 Where thousand winged voices, loud and clear, 
 In carollings descend upon her ear. 
 Now, blest Arabia spices all the gale ! 
 'Tis Oleander breathes to bid her hail ; 
 Mark where her crimsons, with delusive beam, 
 Repeat their burning blushes in the stream ! — 
 
 Thus in the dewy dell, or in the bow'r, 
 Some living page renVd the halcyon hour, 
 From wide Creation's Book of Bounty, Wealth, and Pow'r. 
 
 END OF BOOK V. 
 

215 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 THE DESART. 
 
 Ah now no more of bliss, or Love's career ! — 
 Of trouble, and of terror, look to hear ; 
 For, Mahmoud, like a Blight, advances near. — 
 
 Imperial delegation mark'd his mien, . . 
 And the known signet usher'd him within. 
 Audience accorded, he compell'd his knee 
 To rev'rence, and gave in the dire decree. — 
 
 Whilst Hadel pac'd the mandate with his eye, 
 Enduring pangs that mock Death's agony, - - 
 Deep Mahmoud, . . from beneath his brow's thick shade 
 Stealing a wily glance, . . the Man survey'd : — 
 But, like a Tow'r that keeps his lofty place, 
 Though subterranean ruin sap the base, 
 He stood, . . . his doom perusing with calm look ; 
 Nor, as he held the scroll, nerve, limb, or finger, shook. 
 
216 THE DESART. book \ 
 
 II. 
 
 Foil'd, . . . yet recov'ring heart, his deadly Foe, 
 E'en to the vital core insinuates woe, — 
 Darkly deplores Arabia's Fortune lost, 
 While Christendom, in triumph, sweeps the coast, — 
 Shame, death, defeat, exhibits o'er and o'er, 
 And paints proud Acra, smould'ring on the shore. 
 
 Anon, the Speaker (Malice conq'ring fear,) 
 With Saladine's awaken'd wrath severe 
 Bent on a Brother, . . wounds that Brother's ear. — 
 Now, simulating grief, yet worse he tells:— r 
 Rage, to rebellion, in the Soldier swells ; 
 For Hadel, in his idle absence, ring 
 Indignant calls — yea, scoffing taunts they fling 
 Taunts, edg'd with execration on the Dame 
 That lures him from the brazen field of Fame. 
 
 III. 
 
 Thus did the glozing Treachour word his part, 
 Self-pleas'd : — But Hadel trac'd, with finer art, 
 The black'ning stream of poison to his heart. 
 All effort fails to clear the cheek, . . the brow, . . 
 Where ev'ry Fiend had pitch'd.his furrowing plough ! — 
 He smiles, — but, in each winding of that smile, 
 There seems an adder coil'd ! — 
 
BOOK VI- 
 
 THE DESART. 217 
 
 Thus bare in guile, 
 
 Yon Machinator stands ;— Yet, on his crown 
 The glorious Foe disdains to thunder down >~* 
 EartJi's Eagles on the Vile their vengeance prove- 
 But he, . . the sov'reign Bird who sate with Jove, 
 If in his lofty walk, a snake were found, - - 
 Had left the scorned reptile on the ground. 
 
 His prompt recal, the sigil vouch'd for true ; 
 For all the rest, - - - yon worming Knave he knew I — 
 To his drear tale, what answer ?---One dire look, 
 That, like a deadly flash, th* Offender strook — - 
 Strook, — but incens'd the more : — By Night, by Day, 
 No rest for him, till Mischief work its way ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 Retir'd, the Hero meditates to tread 
 On the dark Tempest gathering round his head. 
 When mighty Souls explore their threat'ned state, 
 Brief is the doubt ; the resolution, . . . Fate. 
 " Thy royal Pris'ners, and their noble Train, 
 From Gaza be remov'd f'-r-In rigid strain, 
 Thus wiird Arabia's Ruler. To his Lord, 
 The Chief, so far allegiant, yields accord. 
 What next ? — A harder task than Love may learn 1 
 " To Richard let the Captive-Damns return.' 11 — 
 
218 THE DESART. 
 
 More : — " To Kourouba's hill, thyself repair 
 With aidance, and revive the fainting War."— 
 Matilda left ... is more than life resign'd ! — 
 But Honour speaks, . . . and Passion falls behind :- 
 " Allow'd : — Each noble Captive shall be borne 
 
 From Gaza but, to Richard not return."" 
 
 Far to the South, secure from searching eyes, 
 And violating hands, Elusa lies : — 
 Thither, himself shall bear them, — ere he go, 
 Stout Hearts collecting, proof to Friend, or Foe. 
 Britons to guard, and Slaves to tend, the Fair, 
 Left at Elusa, - - swift shall he repair 
 To Saladine, with sinews for the War. 
 
 V. 
 
 Meanwhile, Matilda seeks, . . but seeks in vain, . . 
 
 The calm, late granted ; — Love, and Peace, no more 
 Chaunt with symphonious note their silver strain ; 
 
 The vivid thought, «, . the light repose, . . are o^er. 
 'Tis Grief again, Self-chastisement, and Fear ! 
 Ah ! Where the blest Conversion, deem'd so near ?— 
 
 Erewhile, yon Misbeliever hung 
 
 On that seraphic tongue, 
 
 Content, . . yea coveting, to hear, 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 THE DESART. 219 
 
 Oft as the Virgin sung 
 
 Her descant on the Christian's hallow'd theme, — 
 Nay, silent, while she nam'd, with tone severe, 
 False Mahoun, . . and his Foll'wers deeply stung, 
 Who stake Salvation on an impious dream ! 
 The Convert, in the Lover, then she saw. — 
 " And is the fair Illusion fled ? — 
 
 Resolv'd : — he shall abide the fiery test !" — 
 Once more, Eternal Truth full-home she prest, 
 And fix'd him, as the sacred words were said : — 
 But Love was in his look, — not rev'rent awe.— 
 She paus'd — she started — then, with jealous dread, 
 
 Search'd him, till all the Pagan rose confest !— 
 
 E'en while her eyes allow'd him to be blest 
 With visions of the Altar, and the Bed, . . . 
 His tongue refused to curse the Prophet, and his Law. 
 
 VI. 
 
 She sank : — No consolating hope came near ; 
 Nor e'en, — Woe's bitter, last relief ! — a tear : 
 
 " Hadel is lost ! — nor lost alone to me, 
 
 Lost to Himself: — Himself? — O lost from Heav'n !" 
 
 Upon her tongue that word of horror dies, 
 And her head falls ... as ne'er again to rise. — 
 
220 THE DESART. book ve 
 
 Torpid she sate, while Time rolPd hour on hour,— 
 Then, rous'd anew by Memory's tyrant pow'r, 
 Sought a deep Night of shades.^ — There while she lay, 
 Thus her bewilder'd thoughts toiFd out their way :— 
 
 VII. 
 
 " Where, - - whence, - - what, am I ? — In this heathen Jail, 
 A Christian-Maid, cast from her shelt'ring home.--* 
 What sent me forth? — Impulsion from above,— 
 Th' untameable desire that stirr'd within me 
 To kneel, a blessed witness, while yon Land, - - 
 6 The Glory of all Lands, 1 till darken'd o'er 
 By Demon-wings, --prepared to shine again.— 
 Such thoughts did nourish me : — And is it thus 
 Matilda to her sacred call replies ?— 
 This my Commission's end, . . . that earthly love 
 Should seize my heart, unthroning love divine ? — 
 Hath Satan stol'n the mask of saintly zeal, 
 And snar'd me with a subtle hope to save 
 
 Yon drowning Soul, that mine should perish with it ? 
 
 If these thy workings, Love,— resign thy name, ► . . 
 Perdition rightlier calPd. Thy vaunted sweets, 
 E'en on the lip to hateful bitters turn. 
 
 And ah how brief thy race ! the ground beneath, 
 
 A brink, with roses hid ; its goal . . . the Grave I— 
 Lord, help, or I am lost ! — O speak thy Will !— 
 
ook vi. THE DESART. 221 
 
 I seem to hear, (and, hearing, will obey) 
 
 6 Disunion, - - heart from heart, and hand from hand. 1 — 
 
 My body still must bear a Captive's chain ; — 
 
 But my free soul . . with Hadel treats no more ! n 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The sacrifice resolved, she pray'd for peace, — 
 
 And Peace came breathing like an air from Heaven.— 
 
 Good seed is planted :— be the rich increase 
 Full, cordial, consciousness of sin forgiv'n ! 
 
 Hard was the forfeit — but her soul stood bound : — « 
 
 Virtue, excus'd from trial, were a toy ; 
 And sweeter to the taste Matilda found 
 
 The Sainfs affliction, than the Sinner's joy. — 
 
 Yet, while she mus'd on Hadel's fate forlorn, . . . 
 
 With falt'ring hand, awhile she stay'd the blow ; — 
 Nor you, ye fiercely Rigid, whet your horn, 
 
 If she that loves . . her Lover kill too slow ! 
 
 IX. 
 
 " And must F — thus Compassion pleads within — 
 " Hide me in horror, if he dare be seen, 
 
 As plague were in his presence ? Hide from him 
 
 Who, at my sorest need, still sought for vie, 
 
$&£ THE DESART. 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 Then dash'd away my dangers ? Hide from him 
 
 Who calPd upon himself the serpent's fang 
 
 Aim'd at this heart, and dar'd his dire embrace ? 
 
 Give death to him, who thus gave life to thee ? 
 
 Gall him with scorn ? Pay tenderness with hate ? 
 
 Service with punishment ? with Evil, Good ? — 
 
 Author of Christian Love ! Is this Thy law 
 
 True-written, — or the gloss of erring Man ? — 
 
 Doth Charity confess a bounded reign, 
 
 Pal'd in by Creeds, and Climes, - - not, wide as Heav'n, 
 
 Fling out her lib'ral arms, enfolding all ? — 
 
 O Love Celestial ! Dost thou sentence me 
 
 To see my Benefactor waste away, 
 
 Joyless on earth, and reprobate of Heav'n, 
 
 Till Death shall pass him to the quenchless flame — > 
 
 See this, . . and still be mute ? — Am I forbidden 
 
 Again, - - again, - - to raise my warning cry, 
 
 Till heard ? — Not thank him for the breath I draw, 
 
 By leading his blind footsteps from the gulf 
 
 He wanders to ! Not strive to make him see, . . . 
 
 Then point him where the path leads up to bliss ?"" 
 
 X. 
 
 Here, mournful Maid, upon thy spirit hung 
 
 The sad-returning sickness of Despair. 
 " Of human love, no more !" — So vows her tongue ; — 
 
 But, search her heart thou shalt not find it there ! 
 
 
book vi. THE DESART. 
 
 Through trackless meditations wide and wild, 
 With gleams of dubious light, she felt her way : 
 
 Now, Truth led soberly — now, Love beguiTd — 
 
 Now, Reason paused, resting, through fear to stray :- 
 
 " Sage Wilhelm ! - - Once, my Guardian-Guide wert thou, 
 My Comforter, my Father, and my Friend ! — 
 But thou art from me, . . and I walk alone. — 
 Ah ! wherefore hath Remembrance faiFd to store 
 
 Thy golden counsels, legacy divine 
 
 Against the hour of spiritual penury ? — 
 
 That hour is come, and finds me . . poor and fal'n f ' 
 
 Words came no more. Longtime, without relief, 
 She stood — a, Statue moulded into grief. — 
 
 XL 
 
 Some thought has touch'd her into life, and will ! 
 " FaPn, have I said ? — Wilhelm shall save me still - 
 Save, e'en in absence ! — Can my heart forget 
 The smile of saintly joy that lighted him, 
 When, at our heavy parting, he remember'd 
 Another ghostly Friend, and Counsellor, . . . 
 Then bade me flee for shelter to his cave ? — 
 
224 . THE DESART. 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 < There/ — solemn thus he spake — ' there, dwell in peace, 
 Till ransom, or the Turns of changeful Time, 
 Place thee beneath a Brother's wing once more.'— 
 
 Yet, what escape for a poor Captive, . . . eyed 
 By sleepless Love ? — Shall Hadel set me free ? — 
 Nay, Fortune shall; — E'en now, the Sultan's bidding 
 Draws Hadel hence : — A greater Pow'e draws me. — 
 Far off abides that holy Anchoret, 
 By the Red-Sea, - - and dangers line the road S**- 1 
 I reck them not : — The God on whom I lean, 
 Will hear, and help—scatter mine enemies, 
 Or give me friends. — -But, Death, 'mid yonder Wild, 
 May seize me still ? — In that Most Highest Name, 
 Death,, be defied ! — Thy Conqueror can turn 
 To balsam, the fear'd venom of thy sting ! — 
 Yon Hermit will I seek : — Heav'n watch me on my way !" 
 
 XII. 
 
 No longer in the maze of doubt eonfin'd, 
 Matilda, for the venture, arms her mind : 
 Hope urges on — impediments retire — 
 And Courage from Devotion catches fire. 
 
 Long swell'd the silent project in her breast, - - 
 At length in lov'd Lennora's ear confest. — 
 She heard, . . . and, eager, thus the Maid addrest : 
 
book vi. THE DESART. 
 
 " Matild ! . . It may not be : — an Oracle, 
 
 Within this hour deliver'd, stands opposM. 
 
 Our Captor, . . calTd away, and dreading strong 
 
 Lest Evil, in his absence, enter here, . . 
 
 Hence to Elusa, near the Syrian bound, 
 
 Bids us, beneath his cov'ring shield, remove. 
 
 There left, awhile, the Chief, in swift return, 
 
 Shall find us, and to Gaza lead again. — 
 
 Thus hath he framM his purpose, . . and in fear 
 
 To face thy contradiction, meekly borrow'd 
 
 My voice, to tell thee of our destiny. 
 
 His powV, my long resistance gently quelling, 
 
 Broke, though it fail'd to bend, my stubborn will : — 
 
 For thee, sweet Partner in imprisonment, 
 
 Bend thine, — and, through the road we have to pass, 
 
 Win Heav'n's defence by thy prevailing pray , rs. r> 
 
 XIII. 
 
 " 'Tis won r the Maid returns : — " Protecting Heav'n, 
 That gave my scheme, . . for its accomplishment 
 Hath found the means, - - and Man shall thwart in vain. 
 The Waste, beyond Elusa, towVd the seat 
 Of yon sequester'd Hermit bears me on : — 
 Thus Hadel, . . all-unweeting, . . aids my hope. 
 Elusa gained, — our Captor, thence departing, 
 
 Q 
 
226 THE DESART. book 
 
 Shall yield us to their doubtful vigilance, 
 
 Who blame their Lord. Hating the Christian Cause, 
 
 With discontented eyes they view him bound . 
 
 By Love's inglorious chain, . . and to my flight 
 
 Weak hindrance will oppose.- — Oppose not thou.'" 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Escaping from reply, Matilda sought 
 Britannia's Lords, . . and open'd all her thought.— 
 Amaz'd they heard, and to the daring Maid 
 The perils of her purpose full display 'd, — ■ 
 The dreadful Desart, - - the consuming Wind, -- 
 The ruthless Arab, . * scarce of human kind. 
 
 " No mora!" the Virgin cries ; " Your threats are vain 
 A louder, holier, Voice, alone I hear. 
 The dangers of the Desart move me not — 
 
 A Desart to the Faithless to the Faithful, 
 
 Inhabited by God's Immensity : — 
 
 The prowling Arab, — let his darts be thrown ; 
 
 From Faith's impenetrable shield they fly ! 
 
 For me then if ye fear, be comforted ; 
 If for yourselves,— in Gaza dwell secure, 
 While, o'er the, sands, I work my pilgrimage, 
 With such Defenders as base gold may buy." 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 THE DESART. 227 
 
 XV. 
 
 The Britons, . . lighted at her heav'nly flame, 
 Nor more contrarious, . . vow them to the Dame. — 
 Their Zeal is ready, . . . but must brook delay, 
 Till Hadel to Elusa lead the way. — 
 Absent awhile, he draws from ev'ry side 
 Forces — ■ - - But see, return'd, Arabia's Pride ! — • 
 " Time calls us forth !" — He said : — and when the Sun 
 Saw Gaza next, . . . her Habitants were gone. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Europe, and Asia, join to guard the Fair; 
 And Hadel's tutelary arm is there. — 
 City, and Hill, and Stream, securely past, 
 Elusa's lone Retreat they hail at last. 
 There shall the Chief his precious Gem conceal 
 From eyes that search, . . and bolder hands that steal. — 
 
 And can he leave, at last, his heart's delight ? — 
 Yes — Love lies bound within him : — Arm'd for fight, 
 He looks " farewell !" — and rends him from her sight. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The Maid, with ev'ry tear that fill'd her eye 
 
 Strove hard but Sorrow had the victory : — 
 
 When, turning, she beheld, with tender grief, 
 
 High o'er the Band of Horse, their glorious Chief, 
 
228 THE DESART. 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 A sigh slow-heav'd, . . slow-sunk, . . that bosom fair, 
 Exhaling all the fragrance treasur'd there ! 
 
 Hark ! From unnumbered hoofs a troubled sound, 
 As of retiring thunder, shakes the ground ! — 
 Rapt from her view, amidst the martial Throng, . . 
 Still, on her ear, their Leader linger'd long ; — 
 His bolder trampings from the rest she knew, . . 
 Told by her heart with trepidation true ! 
 
 So faiPd her courage : — for the sudden spell . 
 Surpriz'd, ere Virtue rang th' alarming bell. — 
 But penance is at hand : — Ere yet the sin 
 Shew colour, - - tears have wash'd her conscience clean : — 
 " What ! Shall the senses rule ? — (Her heart, severe, 
 Thus question^ with itself,) — the Soul obey? — 
 This Pagan shames a Christian Votaress ! 
 Shall zeal for a deceiving Prophet's Law 
 Keep madding Passion down, - - while she that honours 
 GOD^s Prophet, by celestial Thrones ador'd, 
 Gives licence to her love ? — Thy mercy, Heav^i, 
 And thy defending Grace, be o'er me still !" 
 
 Bright with forgiven sin, the Vestal smil'd, 
 
 Imagination pointing to the Wild ! — 
 
 The Nobles, . . bound before, nor slackening now, . . 
 
 Awaited but the call, to act their vow. — 
 
 Behold her, for the Desart full-prepar'd, . . 
 With many a viewless Angel for her Guard. 
 
THE DESART. %%9 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 But, spy where Mahmoud comes ! — Dark-mining still 
 Beneath his Foe, th" Artificer of ill 
 Wrought with the Tools here found, . . . yon Arab-Train. 
 
 These, Had el, as he parted, bade remain 
 
 Vassals, to serve, . . and Watchmen, to defend, . . 
 The Captives, till his mighty self attend. — 
 Slaves as they were, each proudly nam'd his Lord, 
 Each lov'd, . . . and in his glory found reward. 
 
 Thus minded, - - all had seen, with silent frown, 
 Those plumes, before a Christian Dame bent down. 
 True, . . he had heard, at last, the trumpet's cry — 
 But, as he went, they mark'd his flameless eye : — ■ 
 He leaves her — but a hand still holds the chain, 
 Whose lightest touch can pluck him home again : — 
 Shall they detain the Nymph, whose fatal charms 
 Held their great Master from the clash of arms? — - 
 No ! — Turning from the trust, they long to see 
 Their inauspicious Pris'ner, flown, and free. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Deep Mahmoud saw them through, . . . and feign'd a charge 
 From Saladine, to leave the Dames at large. — 
 Rejoicing as they hear, the servile Band 
 To their own wishes warp the false command : — 
 
THE DESART. book y 
 
 More than escape they proffer :— arms, and aid, . . 
 Yea, their own guidance, . . wait the flying Maid. 
 Sagacious of the Clime, they build a roof, 
 To the down-stroke of solar vengeance, proof. 
 Nor wanted, for the passage, foodful store, 
 Nor heart-reviving liquids, needful more. 
 Patient of thirst, the Camel, . . kneeling, dumb, 
 For his hard burthen, . . droops with toil to come. 
 
 Delays are past : — Past were the dangers too ! — 
 Vestal ! - - on Him above, repose thy view, 
 And tow'rd yon fearful Waste thy Pilgrimage pursue ! 
 
 XX. 
 
 Of her dread purpose full, - - with stedfast brow 
 She sought the sorrowing Queen, and bade farewell. 
 Nature, in each, prevail'd : — With gushing swell, 
 Affection gave her briny stream to flow. — 
 
 Friends and Attendants left, an ample Train, 
 To serve Lennora's will, and soothe her pain,— - 
 The Caravan, with Morning's early glow, 
 Has parted, - - and the Virgin, from her seat, 
 Pronounc'd the rigid vow that bars retreat. 
 What perils from the force of Man impend^ 
 
 The force of Man may baffle : — Sword to sword, 
 
 Britons, for her, their loyal blood shall spend, 
 
 And e'en yen Serfs may dare the Desart's plundVing Horde. 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 THE DESART. 261 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Elusa fades remote. The westering Sun 
 Retires, . . . and oft again his round may run, 
 Ere sandy Shur ? s inhospitable Plain 
 
 Assail the sight. — And now, in Earth, and Sky, 
 She view'd, with unrepenting eye, 
 Symbols of Desolation's opening Reign. 
 
 Obstructed on his march by stock, and stone, 
 Her cautious Camel, in perplexity, 
 
 Made halt. The Virgin, from her dang'rous throne 
 Descending, -^-through the way with difficulty mov'd on. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Erelong, beneath yon rocky Heights they found 
 Time's rudest, wildest havoc !-— Hurl'd around, 
 Like relicks of the fell Titanian War, 
 Lay savage crags, and many a bossy scaur, 
 In tumbled masses, rough, and black, and bare. 
 These, . . once o'er-hung in promontories bold, . . 
 Broke, ponderous, from their ancient hold, - - 
 Half-bulg'd, or buried quite, 
 
 With each tempestuous fall : — Now, still and dead, 
 They lie as in the lap of sombrous Night, 
 
 Chok'd up with tufts and sprouts, confusion-bred. — 
 
232 THE DESART. book vi. 
 
 Above, left naked by their crumbling bed, 
 
 GnarM roots had stretch^ their tortuous prongs away, 
 Off-staring from bluff ridge, and ragged mound ; — 
 The hardy stragglers, questing for a stay, 
 Down the long void their strange descent made good, - - 
 Clutch'd, as with dragon-claws, each fragment rude, -- 
 C'er-scrambled, - - found a soil, --and fastened there. — 
 Creation seem'd in ruins ! — Hapless Fair ! 
 Are these thy smoothest walks ? — And hast thou stood ? — 
 And dost thou, here, maintain thine even mood ? — 
 Not by a foot of iron-plated horn 
 Might such remorseless ruggedness be borne : — 
 How by the dainty step of tender Womanhood ? 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 At length, less cruel paths are found again : — 
 
 But, as they near yon fearful Place, 
 Nature, still gradual drooping, strives in vain 
 To rear her sickly-colour'd Race ; — 
 
 Scanty, and lean, and dry, 
 
 They faintly push the rivel'd stalk, . . and die. 
 Poorer, and pining worse, the flocks complain : 
 A few, sad-browsing where no balmy rain 
 
 Bathes the parch'd herb, — or wasting, as they lie 
 On what should feed them, — perish from the plain 
 
BOOK V 
 
 THE DESART. 233 
 
 'Tis, now, unbroken Barrenness austere 
 
 " Earth, without form, and void" — or forms unkind, 
 Engend'ring images of deadly fear : — 
 
 Look for no covert, save the lair, and den, 
 Where beasts of blood their horrid shelter find, 
 Far from the haunts of Men, - - 
 Till Darkness rouse them up to roam again, 
 And fill with rabid howlings the wild air ! 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Matilda, — for she seem'd to hear 
 
 The " still, small Voice " of Him who guards the True, — 
 Saw Nature turn to hard, and sere, . . . 
 
 Yet lost not Hope's fair hue. 
 Terrors are nigh — But nigher is the Hand 
 That holds the Kino- of Terrors in command : 
 
 o 
 
 Or e'en though Monsters tear, or shafts be driv'n, 
 
 They shall but haste the hour that wings her soul to Heav'n ! 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Now have their steps up-climb'd the painful Height 
 Of Shur's broad barrier. — Three times had the Night 
 Brought darkness o'er them, . . and three times the Day 
 
 Smote on their heads with aggravated might, 
 
 When suddenly before them lay 
 (As 'twere the Land of Death,) 
 An Universe of Horror, spread beneath ! — 
 
234? TEE DESART. i 
 
 Far as their straining eyes on eVry side 
 May circuit yon horizon wide, 
 They view, in blank dismay, 
 
 One flat, vast, weary Wild, expanding round 
 
 A fiery Sea of Sand, without mark, break, or bound ! 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Will they proceed? — Astounded long remain 
 Those Voyagers ; and many a sinking Soul 
 Recants the dread emprize: — Not e'en the Train 
 Of Britons, unappaFd, respire 
 Th 1 in template air, or note the sands that roll I 
 With many a hindward look unconscious cast 
 O'er the safe region past, 
 All yearn, Elusa ! for thy shades again, 
 And tell, without a word, the deep desire. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 And thou, fair Pilgrim ? — Fear is in thine eye — 
 Fear, - - Woman's lot ; — but in thy soul, apart 
 From earth-born, frail infirmity, . . 
 
 Determination settles, calm, and still ;-— 
 One rules the body ; — one obeys the Will :— 
 To stand, while from the cheek its colours fly, 
 Crowns with sublimer victory the heart. 
 
book vi. THE DESART. 235 
 
 To Heav'n, through pain and toil, she dares aspire, 
 And challenges the Desarts ordeal-fire. 
 Heat, lay thy Furies on ! — She dreads no force, 
 But from the Bosom-Fmies . . Guilty and grim Remorse ! 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Her tones, with inspiration in the sound, 
 Wake the bold Sons of Britain from their stound. 
 Shall hardy Man recoil, by fear betray'd, 
 While Firmness flourishes in a weak Maid ? — 
 No ! — From ill-boding Thoughts behold them free, - - 
 Thy Champions, glorifying Chivalry ! — 
 
 All, . . as the music of that voice they hear, . . 
 Their leading Angel bendingly revere. 
 The lowly Vestal, as they gave the meed 
 
 Of homage, . . blush'd reproval on the deed, 
 
 Still self-severe, her spirit mortified, 
 And, merciless, up-tore the root of Pride. 
 
 But, lo ! The Desart calls her, and the hour : — 
 Unshaken stands her will: — Heav'n prosper it with pow'r ! 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Matilda gives the sign. With movement slow, 
 
 Down the HilPs fractured side they wind their course, 
 (Rude-menac'd oft with headlong overthrow,) 
 Till safe they reach the widening tracts below — 
 
236 THE DESART. book vi. 
 
 Safe, . . if in change of peril safety lie, 
 
 And living, ... as they live, that look to die ! — 
 What hope is near, - - what cov'ring, - - what resource, - - 
 While, now, their blazing Foe, — 
 
 Implacable, each moment raging worse, — 
 Beats down direct, from out the bronzed sky, 
 On the red sands that round them glow ! — 
 Destruction burns, above them, and beneath ! — 
 O for a breeze from lake, or mountain-heath, 
 To mitigate the calentures in air ! — 
 Daz'd is their aching sight, . . 
 Or drowiVd in deluges of light 
 While the fierce fires, and strong-rebounding glare, 
 Each nerveless powV dissolve in languor, e'en to death ! — 
 
 XXX. 
 
 The Vestal, with deep-planted trust 
 
 In Him who ne'er had turn'd her suit away, 
 Perceiv'd, in Tribulation's day, 
 
 What constancy comes on with lowly pray'r ; 
 While hopeless, heartless, terror, and despair, 
 Fall on the Proud, and shake their strength to dust. — 
 'Tis dreadful, e'en in story to repeat 
 
 Their course through yonder Wild ! — 
 Yea the hard Arab, whom they look to meet, 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 THE DESART. 237 
 
 May learn to drop a tear for thee, poor Maid, 
 
 By Virtue to Affliction thus betray'd, 
 
 Yet thus, the more, bright Virtue's darling Child ! — 
 Firm as a Martyr, . . as an Angel sweet, . . 
 Still hath she many a cheering word to spare 
 For weaker Man, . . and, still, smiles off the clouds of Care. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Yet, present hope is none ! — 
 
 Rejoice not, fainting Pilgrims ! as the Day 
 
 Goes down ; — for, in his room, there comes a Night, 
 That brings no blessed hours of cool delight, 
 To 'swage your torment, sufFer'd from the Sun. — 
 
 Night falls, - - and on their toilsome way, 
 While fever, heighten^ still, is raging on 
 
 Through countless channels to the brain, — 
 Chill, rimy dews, congealing ev'ry vein, 
 Ice the boiFd blood, and cramp their shiv'ring Prey. — 
 Ah, sweet Matilda ! what oblivious bed 
 
 Shall rest thee, . . or what pillow here be found 
 Whereon to drop that throbbing, weary head ? — 
 
 Nor bow'r is nigh, nor shearing shed 
 
 Thy chamber, the wide Waste — thy couch, the ground ! 
 Far hence restoring Sleep hath fled, . . 
 That never, here, as in the sylvan glade, 
 
THE DESART. book vi 
 
 Light-hovers, while her Sprites compound, 
 Of runnels, and soft airs, a lulling sound : — 
 
 Short slumbers, by long pains delay'd, 
 
 Wild starts, with many a shrill convulsive moan, 
 
 Tell of the scenes by Fancy shewn, . . . 
 Visions of terror, whirl'd in restless round, 
 Where suns rain fire on fields without a shade : — 
 E'en thus the tim'rous fawn, or soft gazelle, 
 Dreams on the vulture's hook, . . or tiger's fang more fell ! 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Her night of anguish over-past, 
 
 (Yet anguish mollified by pray'r, and praise,) 
 Matilda wakens at the Sun's hot gaze, 
 As, in recruited fury rising fast, 
 Again he fires the World. By his dread light, 
 
 Longtime she scans the Ground, . . . 
 If, yet, some fav'ring sign may cheer the sight: — 
 Created object none, remote or nigh, 
 Diversifies th' Infinitude around ! — 
 And still, throughout yon regions dry, 
 
 Worn Man, and toiling Beast, expect in vain 
 The vegetative bounties of the Sky, . . 
 Bud, leaf, or shooting blade, or Ceres' golden grain. 
 
book vi. THE DESART. 239 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Now, Thirst, . . the Desart's direst Pow'r, . . 
 
 (Their drink by noisome creatures tainted vile,) 
 Arrives at Noon's ungenial hour. 
 
 The tongue dries up, - - while the low-bending ear 
 Listens, through many a torrid mile, 
 In frantic hope to hear 
 
 The fount fresh- welling, or the streamlet clear ;— 
 Nor fall, nor spring, are heard, . . nor drops, in kindly show'r ! 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Ah wretched Maid ! Soon shall thine outward harms 
 
 Be lost in the mind's deeper, deadlier bane 
 
 Woes yet untried, and Virtue's worst alarms !— ■> 
 
 See, scouring round the plain 
 On hardy steeds, and bristling into arms, 
 
 Yon half- bare Horde of Arabs, . . fiercely wild 
 
 As the dire tracts that harbour them, . . of hue 
 Swart, and adust ! — Their visages were soil'd 
 With massacre, and shagg'd with hair that grew 
 In tussocks, matted like the gory mane 
 
 Of their grim Neighbours ! — Englanders, be true I 
 Front, and defy^ th 1 inexorable Train !— 
 
 The Travlers catch their view ; 
 
 Down rush the hideous-yelling Crew, 
 And, «iad for spoil and blood, in fancy strip the Slain ? 
 
240 THE DESART. book vi. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 For blood, nor booty, now they kindled ! — Fires 
 Of other name were burning, as their eyes 
 On young Matilda fell ! — By quick surprize, 
 The Foremost in those foul desires 
 
 Catch'd, with a vault, at the high-seated Maid : — 
 " Catch death instead !" Northumberland replies : — 
 Down-cloven with his raging blade, 
 Their Leader at his foot expires. 
 
 Warm with like zeal for Honour, and the Fair, 
 His Brethren gall'd yon bestial Enemies ; 
 
 Nor from its work the falchion stay'd, 
 Till many a Losel, with blaspheming cries, 
 In condign sacrifice lay weltVing there. — 
 Anon, like a swoPn flood 
 
 Precipitous descending, all the Crew 
 Fell on those Champions good. 
 
 In force o^er-number d, not in spirit cold, 
 
 Supportless, and fast-failing, long they stood ; — 
 Supportless ; — for the Vassal-Guard withdrew 
 From that rough commerce, . . and, in sullen mood, 
 (As each were to some Demon sold !) 
 With idle hands, and tranquil view, 
 Aloof beheld the danger as it grew, — 
 
 Pray'd for the Wolves, . . and left the Lamb in hold ! 
 
241 
 
 cook vr. THE DESART. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Caitiffs ! . . and brave ye thus his mortal ire ? — 
 Arouse, - - and from the Ravishers reclaim 
 
 Your precious Charge, — or think erelong to feel 
 Joint-racking engines, . . mangling steel, . . 
 Or death, protracted by delib'rate fire ! — 
 
 No longer yon leal Knights may save the Dame : — 
 Pierc'd, or dismembered, low they lie, 
 Fal'n, where they stood; all dead, ... as Heroes die, . 
 Dead — but alive in ever-flow'ring fame ! — 
 
 Matilda ! What art thou ? — Death's Image true 
 
 Of grace, of beauty, late the living Throne ! 
 Perception's Pow'r hath flown 
 From its fair tenement. What time she knew 
 
 Her dreadful doom, - - no more she saw the Day ; 
 Nor word, nor pleading moan, 
 Came from the Maid, left all alone, 
 While those unhallow'd Ribaulds bore their Prize away ! 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 That sight beheld, — concernment for thy woes, 
 Untainted Maid ! at length arose 
 In abject souls. Ill-gifted to defend 
 
 Their Lord's rich Treasure, and Perfection's Queen, 
 E'en these with penitent sabres would oppose 
 
THE DESART. book vi. 
 
 Yon Villain-Herd unclean. — 
 How shall pacific Slaves contend 
 
 With lawless Bandits, bold and keen ? — 
 Faint-flourishing awhile, without a blow, 
 Their coward-weapons, — all submissly bend, - - 
 JeerM off, or spurn'd aside, by the Barbarian-Foe. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 " Turn, Hell-Dogs ! Turn, and die !"— 
 
 While each, with greedy gaze, the Maid bent o'er, 
 All heard the desart-shaking roar- 
 Heard, and obey'd none daring e'en to fly, 
 
 Against that bidding ! — Soon might they behold, 
 Far off, a Figure scarce of mortal mould, 
 In semblance of some vengeful Deity ! — 
 Whate'er that Shape, ... it seem'd a Thing to tame 
 Their wildness, as upon them still it bore, — 
 
 Now, heard unseen . . like thunder on the wing — 
 Now, lightning through the clouds that round it rolFd ! — 
 At length, obscur'd no more, 
 Full-rose to view a Warrior's Frame. 
 
 High on a bounding Barb, whose ev'ry spring 
 Gave witness of the goad's infuriate sting, . . 
 Cloth'd in a Storm of Terrors, down he came : — 
 Black-bursting on their heads, I see the Tempest pour ! 
 
book vi. THE DESART/ 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 At once to the recoiling Band, 
 
 That Form . . that Port . . that Pow'r . . a Name reveal'd' 
 Their distant Wonder long,— 
 Still in their ears, by Rumour, Tale, or Song, 
 
 Resounded ne'er incarnate seen, till now ! — 
 
 Save Hadel, none may wield 
 A scymetar, that, like some charmed wand, 
 Springs the blade from evry hand ! - - 
 
 None other, None, make Opposition bow 
 E'en with a breath, ... or scatter o'er the land 
 Blood-lapping Ruffians all-untaught to yield, 
 
 By the dread scowl of that Plutonian brow ! — 
 The Lioness, fresh-rifled of her Young 
 
 By the rash hunters, with a rage less rude 
 Tears up th* offending Throng !— 
 Of all that savage Brood, 
 At once on ev'ry side pursued, 
 None scaped him : — His retributory hand 
 Hath strewn each carrion-carcase round the land, 
 
 Carv'd out for hyens, while the trembling soul, 
 
 Gone up for Judgment, hears Heaven's wrath begin to roll ! 
 
 XL. 
 
 So rapidly the Chief repaid his wrong, . . 
 Thrice briefer was the Battle, than the Song ! — 
 
244 THE DESART. rook v 
 
 Matild thus found, — Eclipsing all the rays 
 Of his refulgent Past, he flash'd a blaze 
 That burnt resistance down, . . and in her sight 
 Wrought sense-confounding prodigies of might !— 
 Erewhile, her trance was turning into death : — 
 That voice had waken'd her to life and breath ! — 
 Alarm with admiration struggling high, - - 
 She track'd his course with fascinated eye, — 
 Then crown'd it with a hymn of victory ! 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Witii his, what strongest passion may compare, 
 As, now, to rapture mounting from despair, 
 He lavish'd on the Maid love's tendVing care ? — 
 
 For her, — yon modest veil, that half-discloses, . . 
 Half-hides, . . her lilies, violets, and roses, 
 Lending its apt similitude, may shew 
 Those lurking signs . . nor she, nor he, must know — 
 
 Love cannot hide ! — One rich, deep-mingling look, 
 Join'd soul with soul, . . . till either bosom shook ! — 
 Long was emotion speechless — for the tongue, . . 
 Though tun'd, and touch'd, by Love, . . seem'd harshly strung 
 For such fine sympathies : — Dull words delay 
 The light etherial Spirit on its way ; — 
 While, yet, the lingering syllables troll on, - - 
 Shot by a glance, a thousand thoughts are gone ! 
 
book vi. THE DESART. 215 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Too soon, with anxious eye, she sought, around, 
 
 Her gallant Guards and, ah, too soon hath found ! — 
 
 I spare to paint her, desp'rate as she stood, 
 
 With arms wild-wand'ring, - - Sorrow's bitter flood, - - 
 
 And Agony's prolonged, soul-piercing cry, - - 
 
 As, on herself, she charg'd their doom, to die ! 
 
 Full oft the pitying Warrior breath'd a word 
 In consolation, ere the sound was heard. — 
 At last, with patient grief she mourn'd the Dead : — 
 A voice divine had whisper'd, . . " Meekly bow thy head !"— 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Delight, by Nature's law, still breeds annoy : 
 The Lover, e'en in gazing, lost his joy : — 
 
 Emotion's colour flown, that faded skin 
 
 Spoke malady and ravage, deep within ; 
 
 Fierce heats, and fiercer thirst, had robb'd those eyes 
 
 Of lustrous life : — Shade ! Moisture ! - - - or she dies. 
 
 And shall th' attender'd heart consent to know, 
 Yet the hand fail to mitigate, her woe ? — 
 Eagles, and hawks, are blind, compar'd with Love . — 
 Long did his eyes around yon Desart rove, 
 
246 THE DESART. book vi. 
 
 With look that seem'd, like Sol's meridian ray, 
 To dissipate th' obscuring mists of Day. — 
 He found his hope, . . and blest the burning Wild I 
 One vernal spot 'mid Horror's Kingdom smil'd J — 
 Matild, . . once more from pressing peril freed, . . 
 Knelt thanks. The Warrior's temperated steed 
 Receiving them, - - attains th' auspicious mead — 
 Alas ! for him too soon . . . whose girdling arms 
 Must quit their blissful tenure of her charms. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 The green Oasis, like some happy Isle 
 
 Chance-found amid the wasteful Deep, 
 
 By Mariners, rough-tost for many a mile, 
 
 Saluted ev'ry sense. There, Groves that weep 
 
 Castalian dews, from the retiring shade 
 Their whisper'd invitation keep 
 To heal sore travail with the balm of sleep. — 
 Once more, Matilda finds a domicile, 
 
 And hours of toil in mem'ry seem to fade : — 
 Yon wicked Zephyrs, breathing bale, . . 
 Sudden-converted here, blow pure, and hale ; 
 While freshets, rilling crystal, — with soft wail, 
 And ear-caressing murmurs, as they creep, — 
 
 Surprize - - entrance - - revive - - the fainting Maid ! — 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 THE DESART. W 
 
 Not yet her fairy-foot had touch'd the ground, 
 
 When from a brimming gourd, by Love convey'd, 
 The clear, cool, stream deliciously allayed 
 
 Long drought, . . and Fever's conflagration drown'd. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Anon, she hail'd Pomona's genial Reign, 
 
 Whence, without measure, flush'd upon her view 
 The teeming boughs, where all prime savours grew, 
 
 That court the lip, or 'swage the throbbing vein. 
 
 There, hangs, globose, the Citron's juicy gold : — 
 Here, loaded down, exuberates the Vine ; 
 Whose laboring stems, and tendrils fine, 
 
 Can scarce their precious heap, . . a treasure, told 
 
 In vegetable pearls, and rubies, . . . hold. 
 
 Pine, Plantain, Cassia, now entice desire 
 
 To drain their syrops, . . worthy of the lyre ! 
 
 While (as yon parching Waste were still defied,) 
 Pomegranate, sever'd through the tawny hide, 
 At many a running sluice refreshment brings ; 
 The ruddy julep, welcom'd as it springs 
 
 Keen on the palate, floods the thirsty fire. — 
 
 At hunger's call, her eye hath found 
 
 Fair choice, where Nature flings her bounties round : — 
 
 Yon Fig, renown'd by Pharaoh's name, 
 
 Allures the wistful Dame ; 
 
248 THE DESART. 3 
 
 (So tantahVd, an Anchoret might sin !) 
 Tann'd into blacker green, the pulpy skin, . . 
 Where many a crevice temptingly reveals 
 The vermil ripeness, bursting to be free, . . 
 Gives foretaste of th** ambrosial treat within, - - 
 
 Rich, melting, sugar'd succulence ! The Tree 
 No more behind her spacious leaf conceals 
 
 The dainty prize : touch'd by that hand, it fell, 
 
 That silken hand, a Hero loVd so well ! — 
 Such varied solace, . . banishing awhile 
 Sad fears within, prevaiPd on Care, and Pain, to smile, 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Now, far within yon Covert's round, 
 
 He hides her in a nest, of sweetest name : — 
 Till now, no devious footstep, as it wound, 
 On that Concealment came ; 
 
 No curious eye, . . . sharp-threading with a look 
 Each maze in all the ground, 
 
 Lighted, by sparkles from the brook, 
 Through leafy loop, or cunning nook, . . . 
 Pry\l out the secret of this niche profound. 
 A Goddess fills it now, . . profusely crown'd 
 With floral honours ! — As at her desire, 
 
 Dark knots of wildVing trees, that twine 
 With many a roseate Wanton, close-conspire 
 
book vi. THE DESART. 249 
 
 Yet cooler shades ; and oft, with fitful sound, 
 They rouse, as the fresh breeze divine 
 
 Briskly shakes their loose attire, 
 
 Oft, rallied by the ruffling airs, combine 
 More branches, to keep out yon hostile fire. — 
 Here, in luxurious lassitude, she lay : — 
 
 Sleep, in benign compliance with her call, 
 Ruling all night with gentle sway, 
 Hath stol'n the willing senses quite away, . . 
 
 And lets no dream her spright appal 
 With dismal bodements of returning Day, 
 While on her long, deep, rest, those rural curtains fall. 
 
 XL VII. 
 
 Open'd on Paradise, her upward eye 
 
 Far-pierc'd into the broad boughs waving o'er : — 
 There, Tam'rind threw her tresses from on high, 
 Twice blest, a Sanctuary to those that fly 
 
 Sol's fiery persecution, . . or a store 
 
 Of fruitage, and the blushing wine it bore. 
 Here, Cypress offers her safe canopy ; 
 
 While, in bright, full-descending, golden show'rs, 
 
 Laburnum pours her flow'rs, 
 
 A shade for Danae, when the God came nigh ! 
 Or in that form do I behold 
 
 The Grove's fair Sovereign tall ? 
 
 See how she bends with gracious fall, 
 
250 THE DESART. book vi. 
 
 Hung gorgeous round with chains of clustering gold !— 
 
 The favour'd Maid keeps in yon goodly gloom, 
 Shut from the Sun, - - save should a furtive glance 
 Of his bold eye on some coy nWret chance, 
 
 Kindling up all its hues : — for, lush with bloom, 
 Fair Flora's Tribes, in sweet disorder gay, 
 Arrest her still with exquisite delay - - 
 
 Each colour, beauty, . . and each breath, perfume ! 
 
 On ev'ry side th' Arcadian bow'rs 
 
 (For such they seem, . . nor own their horrid Land,) 
 Shew broid'ry choicely done, - - free Nature's hand ! 
 
 Here, soft Melissa, from the scorching hours 
 
 VeiPd, her cerulean blossom dares unfold : 
 
 Yon, blows the Tamarisk, whose limber stem, 
 
 By its own weight control'd, 
 
 Lets down th' abundance of her leaves, 
 Where seeming plume on plume the sight deceives, 
 And glitt'ring trembles many a wat'ry gem. 
 
 Now, Jasmine, Queen of elegance ! resign'd 
 Her snow-besprinkled verdure to the arms 
 Of Eglantine, . . lost in his fragrant charms ! 
 
 With these, all Roses, of all tints, they find, 
 
 Ere yet by Nymph in festal wreath design'd. — 
 
 But endless were the lovely theme : — . . 
 
 Where'er she turns her, all doth seem 
 
 Some painted prospect, rais'd by magic wand, - - 
 Or glimps'd in vision bright, - - or found in Fairy-Land ! 
 
THE DESART. 251 
 
 XL VIII. 
 
 Amid this earthly Heav'n, reclining lie 
 
 The Friends . . long mute — then suddenly recal 
 Fancy from higher Worlds, of name untold, 
 Where Love shall dread no dissoluble tie, 
 
 Nor Absence bring one tearful interval. — 
 Vain-struggling for serenity, 
 
 They breathe in sighs, . . and broken parlance hold, 
 (Or strive to hold,) while dearer thoughts, within, 
 Swell the tumultuating heart, unseen. — 
 Ah ! Who shall trace, though in Orphean strain, 
 
 Thy thoughts, Matilda, through the hurried round 
 Of shifting forms, . . or shadows, grasped in vain- 
 Hopes undetermin'd — Love, in Duty's chain, 
 
 Self-chiding — yea, sweet Gratitude ! thy tear 
 
 Confin'd within its rigid bound — 
 
 Last, . . over all ascendant, . . godly Fear. — 
 Move but that mountain, and each lighter pain . 
 
 May bruise, . . not crush ; dispirit, . . not confound. 
 
 Anon, less venial Fears invade her brain 
 
 Fears, e'en of Hadel. Shame, blot out the word ! — 
 'Tis gone : — A glance from her Affection's Lord, 
 Oft as again she doubted, - - yea, the sight 
 Of that protecting hand, whose might 
 
252 THE DESART. 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 From worse than Wilds, or Serpents, . . worse than death, . . 
 Late rescued her, - - confirm , d her yielding faith. — 
 So, peace returns — calm peace ; — no more ; — 
 Joy must not move her heart, 
 
 From Vestal-Innocence apart 
 
 Or her soul floats adrift, on seas without a shore. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Long Hadel sate, rejoicing in the light 
 
 Of Love's fair Star — till Mem'ry wak'd a Day, 
 
 All darkness guilty of Matilda's flight ! — 
 
 With brows low-bent, the Warrior mov'd away. — 
 Late, had her peril seiz'd on all his mind : 
 'Mid Love's alarms, forgetting Choices frown, 
 He left his wrongs behind, . . . 
 Or kept the rising fermentation down. 
 Her dangers quelTd, — her weightier woes o'erpast, — 
 The Spirit, laid within him, proudly rose at last. 
 
 L. 
 
 Marking his alter'd mien, the gentle Fair 
 Gave sympathy, . . and craved, his thoughts to share — 
 To share, - - though e'en herself those thoughts reprove. — 
 Maiden, be still ! — His anguish comes from . . Love! — 
 Thy weetless hand infiVd the shaft profound ; — 
 Thy balm shall but enrage th 1 immedicable wound ! 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 THE DESART. 253 
 
 LI. 
 
 No more : — Upon the Maid he turn'd a look 
 Where Sorrow sternly sate, . . . while thus he spoke : — 
 " Matild ! — Fear no reproaches. On this head 
 Let misfry fall — on Hade}, . . strong to stand, 
 While Fate hath pow'r to strike. Severely bred, 
 
 I have made pain my pastime, nor e'er vail'd 
 
 My crest in dolour, ... or let down my knee 
 
 In supplication, . . till the doomful hour 
 
 That set thy form before my wondering eye. — 
 
 One moment, as by magic influence, 
 
 Turn d back my stream of life : — With what a tide 
 
 It sent me through that contrary career, . . . 
 
 I have not leave to say. With daring voice, — 
 
 All-ignorant what horror fill'd the sound, — 
 
 I gave my sentiment its name, imploring 
 
 Thy heart, in change for mine. — Discountenance, 
 
 I sear'd my tongue to silence. — Witness thou 
 
 If e'er I murmur d : — Guilty let me stand, - - 
 
 Scorn me again, - - if once appeared a gleam 
 
 Of anger, flashing through my dark despair. — 
 
 Thou know'st, . . and I would have thee now remember, 
 
 What passions in my pulses wildly play'd : — 
 
 Yet, when my breast has laboured with its freight, 
 
 The groan was private : — Nay, perversely mild, 
 
254 THE DESART. 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 
 And mocTrate, — in the very grave of Hope 
 
 I dug for Peace ; and gave rejection welcome, 
 
 Since that rejection bred content in Thee. 
 
 Such was my food of love. Yet through my veins 
 The life was running ; for, one cage confin'd 
 (Vain symbol of a dearer unity !) 
 The Mistress, and her Captive. Looks, and words, - 
 Deep-sworn to bear no message from the Foe ! - - 
 Were left me still. — Matilda found the dole 
 Too rich for my deservings, — lauded Heav'n 
 For my good absence, — caught the smiling hour, — 
 And, without one poor cold farewell . . . forsook me !" 
 
 LII. 
 
 Erect he stood: — The Virgin sate beneath : — 
 So still her form, - - so faint her failing breath, -- 
 Intensest life put on the guise of death. 
 
 Her silence lasted long : — no prompt reply 
 Might battle the rebuke victoriously. — 
 
 Commiserate the Damsel ! Shame declin'd 
 
 Eager defence ; — not then had Love been blind ! — 
 Yet how the charge endure, or words refrain, 
 If, in the secret flight that caus'd his pain, . . 
 Fond care for his renown were all the stain ? — 
 To her soft eye suffusing waters flow, 
 Drawn from the sister-founts of Pity, Love, and Woe. 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 THE bESART. 255 
 
 LIIL 
 
 Truth, at the last, and kindly Nature, came 
 With help ; and, calm-collected, thus the Dame :— 
 " Prince ! I have heard thee, . . . and too safely keep 
 Our amity, deep-graven here, to lose 
 The record, for injustice borne from thee. — 
 Thy Story brands me faithless : — Faith imports 
 Alliance plighted ;— else, no perfidy. — 
 Hadel ! — Thy sword, at one wide-sweeping blow, 
 Cut me from all I held Peace, Freedom, Friends. — 
 
 Yet well, . . right well, . . hast thou aton'd the wrong :— 
 My Captor (Heav'n accept him ! . . for, by HeaVn 
 Are such deeds richly rated,) with a hand 
 Unresting, - - yet untir'd, - - still rain'd upon me 
 More benefits than gentle Courtesy 
 E'er dealt, — and hath more bravely bought my life 
 At many a fearful hour, than trump, or tongue, 
 May celebrate. Further, all fair delights, . . 
 All honour, homage, and high ceremony, 
 Were lavish'd : — But, a Palace is a Pris^, 
 T6 the forc"d Inmate, . . nor do golden chains 
 Fret less than iron. — Yet, my cell was cheer 'd 
 With beams from HeaVn ; — till, thence by Hadel driv'n, 
 My ghostly Father lent his light no more. — 
 Were Faith, and holy Hope, supplied by thee ? — 
 Far other lessons ! — Fated still to mourn 
 In such blind orphanage, - - 1 look'd for succour 
 
£56 THE DESART. 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 Where Heav , n prepared it, . . and, thus fatherless, 
 Fled, for adoption, to a second Sire. 
 
 And have I, then, done treachery, to travel 
 On the bright road of Immortality, 
 Without thy warrant? — Stood I conscience-bound 
 By vow to God, or covenant with Man, 
 When my Soul thirsted, not to taste the stream ? — - 
 
 Alas ! I talk in myst'ry : — Hear a plea 
 Within thy scope. The dangers of the Waste 
 I had to try. By thankful mem'ry taught, 
 I fear'd - - (and hast thou prov'd the surmise vain ?) 
 I fear'd, lest Hadel, deaf to the loud calls 
 Of Country, . . King, . . Religion, . . might attend me . . 
 Through yon dire Desart, — and I went alone." 
 
 LIV. 
 
 Hadel. 
 
 " Queen of my Soul ! . . and didst thou value thus 
 Thyself, and me? — And was it thy supposal 
 That I should learn thy flight, — should know thee gone 
 To pass through fire, — yea to meet worse than fire 
 
 In its worst rage yet not pursue thy trace ? — 
 
 Matilda ! . . . Thou didst think me dead, and toimVd, 
 If such thy deeming ! — How restrain this body 
 From follVing thee, while yet the soul was there ? 
 Or how live on, thy fortune all-unknown ? 
 
ook vi. THE DESART. 257 
 
 My plunge from Patriot- Virtue, fear'd by thee, 
 Hath chanc'd indeed ! . . nor left me, as I fell, 
 The comfort of Matilda's raising hand. — 
 Yet blessed be the lips that have distiTd 
 Their balsam now, to soothe my fest'ring shame. — 
 Since thou hast pity still, . . thou shalt not know 
 My state, when to Elusa swift-return , d, 
 I found it dark, — a world, without the Sun 
 Left shining there ! — What folio w'd, let my tongue 
 Forbear to speak, — remembrance to review ! — 
 All, after, like some grisly vision seems, . . 
 Murd'ring the mind ! — Would it were now but fancy 
 That conjures up my Rebel-Soldiery 
 In arms against their Lord, and his command 
 To help him seek the precious Fugitive ! — 
 
 If this be true, I would not have it false 
 
 That my hot steel addrest them, till its edge 
 Persuaded, . . and their boldest bow'd them down. 
 
 These, mutinous no more, in quest of thee 
 Were scatter'd - - and myself wild-rang'd the Waste, 
 Till Fortune blest me. — Ha ! Behold them now ! 
 Through yonder fluctuating shades I ken 
 The cloud of their advance. Heading the band 
 Of Arab-slaves, my Soldiers guard along 
 Thy Camels, and the slow-pac'd Caravan.'" 
 
 s 
 
258 THE DESART. e 
 
 LV. 
 
 His potent salvo heard, more swiftly came 
 The Cohort,-- while he thus conjur'd the Dame : — 
 " Matild ! if my petition must not thrive, - - 
 Let pitying silence bid me guess the word 
 
 I cannot hear thee speak ! 
 
 To me - - to thy sweet self- - be merciful, 
 
 Nor, hence, pursue thy course ! — Nay, hear me on :- 
 
 Thy Faith forbids, as I have heard thee tell, 
 
 Self-immolation : — But, sure Death will come, 
 
 Ere thou hast toiPd through half yon realm of Sand, 
 
 Scarce enter'd yet, . . . and come with such a Pomp 
 
 Of Pestilence, and hideous forms of ruin, 
 
 As Madness ne'er was taught by Fear to dream ! — 
 
 Measure thy forces with thine enterprize, 
 
 Unwary Maid ! and, in those penances 
 
 Late-suffer'd, . . read far jnore, far worse, behind ! — 
 
 If Gaza seem'd a dungeon, and its Lord 
 The Jailor, (dagger'd words, that stab me still !) 
 Elusa, to thy cherish'd liberty 
 Calls thee again ; and Hadel (so commanded,) 
 Will die of distance from his heart's lov'd home. 
 Yon Troop is thine: Myself, with sleepless care 
 Shall over- watch thee, . . and from danger fend, 
 
BOOK VI. 
 
 THE DESART. 259 
 
 As Alia guards the Good from Skeithan's Crew. — 
 O yield ! . . and to the sister of thy soul, 
 Whom late I left in pining tenderness^ 
 
 Be safe restor'd herself restor'd in turn. 
 
 Pass, there, thine easy days, till Peace bring round 
 The hour . . that sets Matild from Hadel free !" 
 
 LVI. 
 
 He said ; and said no more. Not yet the Maid 
 Her lips unseal'd, — nor, yet, up-rais'd her eye - - 
 
 Of Earth, of Heav'n, — e'en of herself, afraid, 
 And studious of her dark'ning destiny. 
 
 Truth she had heard — but heard, with jealous ear, 
 E'en truth, deliver'd by a partial tongue. 
 
 Her wishes help'd his own : — thence, deeper fear, . . 
 Lest guilt be latent in the luring song. 
 
 Breathless he view'd her, . . as, retir'd apart, 
 
 She pois'd the wav'ring balance o'er and o'er. — 
 
 She rises : — Faster, louder, throbs his heart ! — 
 She bows : — He never tasted bliss before ! 
 
 END OF BOOK VI. 
 
261 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 THE DESART CONCLUDED. 
 
 As when a beardless Knight, in spirit strong, 
 
 Yet weak in frame, his maiden-conflict o'er, 
 
 Seeks rest, and at the welcome fall of Day, 
 Casting his burd'nous panoply away, 
 Pours his unprison'd limbs along, 
 
 Unmindful of To-morrow's turmoil sore ; — 
 Thus far'd the wand'ring Maid, 
 
 Late lodg'd in yonder charitable Shade 
 
 Now calTd to face the trials . . fac'd before ! — 
 Yet, lighten'd is her labour : — A smooth car 
 (Prepar'd by Love's fore-thinking Hand,) 
 Indulges the recumbent Fair ; 
 
 While the poor Camel, — in yon region bland 
 By rest, and quenching rills, and cooling air, 
 Paid for his weary service, — at command, 
 Strong-drags his deep, dull, way, through the plough'd sand. 
 
262 THE DESART CONCLUDED. book vii. 
 
 II. 
 
 If keen-eyed Love, still provident of all, 
 
 May guard her, . . as the Miser guards his gold, 
 She shall not die — her spirit shall not fall — 
 
 But, softly, safely, shall their steps be told, 
 And reach, at last, Elusa's friendly Wall. — 
 Yet, Oh the toils, the terrors, plac'd between ! — 
 Again, yon cruel Pow'r controls the sky ; — 
 Again, Matilda fades beneath his eye ! — 
 Could Thought forget what late she bore, ... 
 'Tis all remember'd now ! — The tragic Scene, 
 
 Without one kindly pause, is acted o'er, 
 
 Each hour a type of vast Eternity ! — 
 
 The Chief drops pity on her pain ; — 
 But, though before his arm the Bandit -fly, 
 Nor Heat, nor Thirst, can he defy, . . . 
 
 Nor on her soul pour down the gracious rain 
 She gathers from above, and stores in ev'ry vein. 
 
 III. 
 
 Day slowly sinks at last ; and howlings dire - - 
 The night-song of the Desart ! - - come to tell 
 
 Of darkness nigh O how unlike the sound 
 
 When Philomel begins ; and, through the dell, 
 
 Eve's mingling melodies are found, 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 263 
 
 Sweet pipe, or bleating field, or vesper-bell ! — 
 Be sudden, . . and light up your guardian-fire, 
 That, circling the drear camp, as with a spell, 
 May scare the ranging lion from the ground ! — 
 Yet, should he rashly spring the flaming bound, - - 
 A Watchman stands within, whose eye 
 To light on . . were to die ! — 
 No rest was for the Maid ; — yet fear'd she more 
 The Soul's besetting Foe, than e'en such perils near. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Another Morn hath ris'n. — That Morn betrays 
 A face, with unknown horror spread ! — 
 
 O'er the vast vault of Heav'n prodigious hung, 
 A blood-like, fiery haze, 
 
 In grim confusion rolling, steams along : — 
 When Judgment shall up-call the Dead, 
 E'en thus may dawn The Last of Days ! — 
 Still silent, all ! — While, menac'd long, 
 Earth waits her doom, . . . and awful, deep'ning, dread 
 Quails ev'ry heart, save His, . . . and, prostrate flung, 
 Devotion faintly prays, . . . 
 
 And Guilt stands gorgon'd with amaze, 
 
 No sound, — not e'en the breath 
 Of Terror, — dares disturb yon Pageantry of Death ' 
 
264 THE DESART CONCLUDED. book vii. 
 
 So march the harrowing hours, till Noon. — 
 
 With sanguine disk, the Tyrant of the Sky, . . 
 Unbated in his force 
 
 By river, lake, moist wood, or mountain high, . . 
 Burns all, in his unsufferable course.— 
 It comes at last ! — The fell Typhoon 
 Hath blown up all his flames ! — Over the Waste 
 Flies yon devouring Blast, 
 That may not find a name to reach its ire ! - - 
 Not Warmth — not Wind — a Hurricane of Fire ! — 
 Down, down to Earth — for Death is in the Air ! — 
 Once more, her safety thanks his care ; — 
 
 Quick-taught by Hadel's eye, 
 
 The Maid fell, muffled, ere the Breath went by : — 
 
 Not faEn before th' aerial flood 
 
 That instant, both had shrivePd as they stood !— 
 
 Keep down - - or, yet, ye perish there ! 
 
 Still the sulphureous flush is passing o'er ! — 
 
 Nor speak, nor breathe ! Lie, as ye liv'd no more !- 
 
 While thus they shun the peril, - - my sad strain, 
 With notes unheard before, 
 
 Their doom shall tell, whom Caution warns in vain. 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. %65 
 
 VI. 
 
 Yon Plague, diffusM in many a fiery thread, 
 And at the mouth drawn in, re-enters dread 
 With ev'ry gasp, . . and, smoth'ring the short strife 
 Of Nature, darts through all the cells of life : 
 Fierce as a forge, it drains the sap within — 
 Warps the strong tendon — fibre, flesh, and skin, 
 Charks into mummy, . . till the mass, anon, 
 Disparted, tumbles from the black'ning bone : — 
 Thus, with a lightning-touch, the Soul is gone ! 
 
 VII. 
 
 Such Fate befals not these : — But, watch them still, 
 Blest Heav'n ! and spare them from the milder ill 
 Yet threafning — milder if the mischief be 
 To linger, than, with sudden stroke, be free : — 
 For, mark the Wretch that, . . half- escaped the Blast, . 
 Lives on, to mourn the mercies of the Waste ! — 
 Reprieved awhile, - - but on his way to death, - - 
 With ruin'd lungs, he pants, he pulls, for breath ; — 
 ScorclVd is the marrow ;— transpiration fails ; — 
 From evVy quarter the shot sand assails, 
 
 Each grain a flinty spark, the precious eye, . . 
 
 Organs, of tender sense, where'er they lie, . . 
 Scor'd by the lacerating cautery ; — 
 
2CS THE DESART CONCLUDED. book vii. 
 
 The Voice hath perish'd, and the Vision ; — blood 
 Breaks through the doors of hearing in a flood, 
 As, from the latTring heart, upsent amain 
 On the drown'd throat, and agonizing brain. 
 Thirst rages ; — but not Rivers, pour'd at hand, 
 Might pacify the burning fierce demand ! — 
 Nor gross, corporeal pangs are felt alone ; — 
 Wild Thoughts are frighting Reason from her shatter'd throne ! 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Less virulent, by fits, the fatal Air 
 
 Seems to depart. Nay, from the prostrate Pair, 
 
 Danger departs not yet ! — Yon Blast may bring 
 
 Curses that live Swarms, ever on the wing, 
 
 All arm'd with eager tusk, and active sting. 
 
 But, saving Pow'rs, protect them, as they lie, 
 
 From subterranean Reptiles, nested nigh ! 
 
 Full oft, the slumb'ring Pilgrim, couch'd with Foes, 
 
 Exorbitantly buys his rash repose : 
 
 Here, - - least, but subtlest, Worm, that from the head 
 
 Shoots venom, - - the black Bcetan nips him dead I 
 
 Or long-drawn Scolopendrae, . . like the boar 
 
 Bristling with irritated points all o'er, . . 
 
 Crawl up, and in the Victim grappling fast 
 
 Their thousand fiery forceps, kill at last, - - 
 
 Save, with desp'rate plunge profound, 
 
 Rcd-hcatcd iron hiss through cvVy wound ! 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 267 
 
 IX. 
 
 Simoom hath fled the place yet leaves behind 
 
 Memorials of his powV ; 
 
 On Hadel, most : — With restless fear 
 For his lov'd Maid in that sinistrous hour, 
 Oft, rising, had he turn'd his eye 
 Where, in still dread resign^, 
 
 She heard, above the storm, his warning cry. — 
 But mortal mischief came not near ; 
 For, God was in the Desart, with rais'd arm 
 Shielding his Worshippers from harm. 
 
 At His command severe, 
 In mitigated rage the Wind 
 Past over : — Else, yon Hero, . . bravely blind 
 
 In Love's behalf, . . his course had finish'd here. 
 At Hadel's call, once more the Virgin rose ; 
 
 But paus'd upon her knee, ere yet she stood, . . . 
 Humbly adoring The All-Good, 
 Whose Mercy, present still, brought help in all her woes. 
 
 X. 
 
 Now, vent'ring, once again, to view the Ground, — 
 Again she drops — by Terror thrown ! — 
 The Samiel, distant-flown, 
 
THE DESART CONCLUDED. rook vii. 
 
 Scouring the Desart as it smokes along, 
 Wide-hurries all before it, with the sound 
 
 Of roaring Seas — on furied wings up-sprung, 
 Scatters the myriad-atoms o^er the sky, 
 Or madly catches as they fly, . . 
 Drifting and dashing clouds on clouds around ! — 
 The Swell, the Motion, and the Strife !— 
 Meseems, the dull dead Elements are stirr'd to life ! 
 
 XI. 
 
 At once, those Elements are bound and dumb— 
 A fearful truce, - - till War shall wake again : — 
 It wakes again ! — Misrule, and Ruin come ! — 
 Broke like a Demon from his chain, 
 
 With larger scope careers the burning Storm, 
 And from its deep foundation turns the Plain ! — 
 Vast flights of sand, rapt off in many a swarm, 
 Now, pour in eddying whirls — now, diverse-driv'n, 
 
 With monstrous change up-towering Columns form, 
 That hide their turbinated heads in Heav'n ! — 
 The Sun, those fragile fabrics dire 
 Strikes intense with all his rays : — 
 Lighted at evVy pore, they drink the blaze, . . 
 Red-glowing through, as charged with angry levin ! 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 THE DESART CONCLUDED. 269 
 
 Baseless, and by the giddy torrent borne 
 (Like shafts from some celestial Temple torn,) 
 Behold them, stalking Pillars of strange fire ! — 
 Soon, in capricious rage, the Pow'r 
 
 Breaks in the midst with rushing blast 
 His own wild Work, . . and brews a mightier stour 
 Destroying, than creating : — from the sight, 
 Like some dread Vision, past, 
 
 Those Colossean Wonders bright, 
 Disperse them, and o'er-hang the tracts beneath, — 
 A Desart in the Sky ! . . . loose-floating Fields of Death ! 
 
 XII. 
 
 Now, — Chaos ruTd at Order's call, — 
 
 Yon regions overhead, with condens'd weight 
 Slow-sinking from aloft in silent state, 
 Spread their dark, broad'ning, shadows, like a pall, 
 And promise to leave Mountains where they fall ! — 
 O Hark ! — What peal of Horror tore 
 The welkin, ... in a moment heard no more ? — 
 Then, Caravans, or Armies, host on host, — 
 
 Or moving Nations whole, . . Man, Woman, Child,- 
 By the fell Spirits of the Desart crost, 
 Sank . . . with Destruction over-pil'd, 
 Under yon whelming Hills at once for ever lost ! 
 
270 THE DESART CONCLUDED. book vii. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 When thus had faTn th' aerial sands, — 
 
 A tumbled scene, ... a wilder Wilderness, ... 
 Amaz'd their view, from bound to bound ! — 
 Aghast each guiding Arab stands ! — 
 How shall the track, by sign, or guess, 
 
 'Mid surging heights unknown, again be found ? — 
 Hadel, . . ascendant still o'er all their course, . . 
 Moves on : — The rest attend his leading Horse. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 And now the Hero feels, . . more yet, and more, . . 
 Those inward fires. Matilda, long before, 
 Had spied the secret harm, - - though not a groan 
 Found passage, as he dealt with pain, alone : — 
 Ah ! Lovers unresting eye, prophetic still, 
 Oft weeps, ere yet the Victim dream of ill ! — 
 He thanks, he blesses, the malignant air, 
 For tortures that awake an intrest there ! 
 
 Too soon the rich discovVy pleas'd no more, . . 
 Lost in the kindred pangs Matilda bore. 
 By Heav'n upheld so long, - - she rues, at last, 
 The drought perpetual, and the burning Waste ; 
 No longer, in its native bed, the rose 
 Looks fresh, . . his eye regaling as it blows. 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 271 
 
 XV. 
 
 As tir'd with rage, again the Sun withdrew, 
 Grim-smiling ; and again around them grew 
 Night, - - with the Desart-howl, and deadly dew. 
 
 May Sleep give strength to suffer, ere the Day 
 Reveal foul doings with his dawning ray ! — 
 The Bands that guarded, and the Slaves that led, 
 Yon tardy Caravan where are they ? — Fled ! 
 
 Outworn with all their lengthen'd labour past, 
 And dreading, more than death, a second Blast, 
 
 They flew from patience ; yea, their courage fell, 
 
 Or, if it mounted, rose but to rebel. — 
 
 While the Sun's eye was on them, lurking Art 
 
 In signs, or mystic murmurs, play'd her part : — 
 
 But when, with dreams and darkness, Night came on, 
 
 They rioted in words, and all were gone ! 
 
 Yet Loyalty to him they lov'd of yore, 
 Had spaT'd the means of life, - - and, as the roar 
 Of savage hunger sounded, left a flame, 
 To terrify the tiger as he came. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 They lay, — but not in sleep : Night's heaviest hours 
 Hung all their weight on Life's afflicted powVs. 
 Either was dumb, — deep-fearing to molest 
 The other . . sunk, it seem'd, in kindly rest. 
 
272 THE DESART CONCLUDED. b 
 
 Each mus'd on each, interminable theme 
 
 Or of the living, or the dying dream ! 
 She, — pond'ring, in the crisis of her fate, 
 His golden services, forepast, and late, — 
 Let silent, solitary thought thus flow : 
 
 " Ah ! what avails the tongue's acknowledgment, 
 From deeds apart ? — E'en such the flowering Tree, 
 To him that seeks her vital fruits in vain. 
 
 To pay for more than life, with a poor smile, 
 
 This all the harvest of his laVring care ? — 
 
 O Thou in Heav'n, whose highest name is, Love,'" - 
 
 And as emotion prest for vent, the heart 
 
 Spake audibly, ■ — " were it a mortal sin, 
 
 If / should love?" 
 
 XVII. 
 
 1 That revelation dear. 
 
 E'en in the shades of death had reacVd his ear !— 
 " Prime Creature, No P — then governing his flame, 
 To save her from the scalding flood of shame, . . 
 
 " Could' 'st thou but love, all joys of Earth and Heav'n 
 
 Should light on us ! — Each is by Alia blest, — 
 Each hath He sav'd, — each loves, — and, friending still 
 Me, and Thyself, HE wills us to be One ! 
 O thou, in whom I live, — for whom I die, — 
 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 273 
 
 How may I speak the rest or how refrain ? 
 
 No, not on Hadel has the vengeful air 
 Spent all its rage : — it threats a double doom ! — 
 And shall our Spirits, like the mists of Morn 
 Dividing, each from each, meet never more ? — 
 While, here, as all alone in a vast world, 
 
 Hopeless we linger, breathing sand and fire, 
 
 Here, in this Desolation, where nought grows, . . 
 
 And, save the Savage, and the Snake, nought lives, 
 
 Here, where, to-morrow, some lost Wretch may find 
 
 Each form . . without the spark that gave it life, 
 
 O heed the voice of Hadel, as it pours 
 His last petition ! — Speak the solemn vow 
 That weds two Souls for ever ! — O pronounce it, . . 
 And make this hand the precious voucher ! — Thus, 
 My last, yet liveliest breath, shall call thee mine V* 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 So cited, -- so adjur'd, - - the wasted Maid 
 Rose painfully ; then, self-controlling, laid 
 Upon the breathless Chief an Angel's look, 
 While, . . faint, by turns, and fervid, . . thus she spoke : — 
 
 " Hadel I love thee ! — Modesty, and Heav'n, 
 
 Forgive the lips that breathe it! — But I seem 
 As Life were o'er, . . and, thus deliv'ring up 
 
 T 
 
274 THE DESART CONCLUDED. tfdoK vii. 
 
 My Soul's lock'd secret, - - full-discharge, at last, 
 
 The long, deep, debt of sacred tenderness 
 
 Unpaid till now. — O dearest, greatest, best, 
 
 Of Things that live ! Would'st thou but add the name 
 
 Of Christian to thy tow'ring dignities, 
 
 This horrid Wild, inhabited with thee, 
 
 Were Paradise ; — without thee, Paradise, 
 
 In all its bright'ning bloom . . a horrid wild ! — 
 
 But, peace ! — No more of earthly love ! — This hour 
 Demands a holier theme : — The lamp of life 
 In both fails fast : — HeavVs awful Messenger 
 Points us to yonder World, where all is Love, — 
 Love, unalloyed by Sin, Sense, Fear, or Pain. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 What seiz'd him, as he found (unthought before !) 
 Love like his own — a sea without a shore ! 
 Transported, . . to his breast he drew the Dame. 
 
 Irregularly bright, his eye 
 Shot sparks, emitted by too fierce a flame : — 
 
 'Twas Love, but with an humbler, frailer name : 
 
 (Ah ! thus confessing Beauty tempts to sin !) 
 
 'Twas Love, but Love, I ween, 
 
 More coveting, in that wild rapture high, 
 The casket, than the Jewel hid within !— 
 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 275 
 
 The Vestal, arm'd in Purity severe, . 
 
 Subdued him with a glance that drove to flight 
 Each mutinous thought, - - enforcing him to fear 
 Loss of the sumless Treasure newly won. 
 Anon, she wings him tow'rd yon Regions bright, 
 Where Spirit reigns immaculately clear - - 
 Where Fancy's fires are gone, . . 
 And each improving joy Beatitude brings on ! 
 
 XX. 
 
 Thus while she spake, . . as from all suff 'ranee free, . . 
 Around her form Religion cast a shine, 
 That seem'd to change her Mortal, to Divine. 
 
 E'en the dark Pagan, with descending knee, 
 
 Gave homage to the hallow'd splendency ! 
 
 " Yes, thou art Angel ! ... or thyself the Temple 
 
 Where Angels dwell ! . . . and, from thy tongue, flows all, 
 
 As from a sacred Fount of light, and fire ! !" 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " Blest Heav'n !" she cried, while her hands met in joy, 
 " And are thine eyes unseal'd, - - and canst thou hate 
 Mohammed, and his law, - - and hath a ray 
 From Him that brings Redemption, lighten'd thee ? — 
 If this be true, . . be near, . . be probable, . . 
 
276 THE DESART CONCLUDED; book vii. 
 
 Transport me with the truth, . . and take my Soul !• — 
 
 O speak !" and eager on his hand she hung, 
 
 " Speak ! Art thou Christian ?" Musings held him long 
 
 Hadel. 
 
 " Whate'er I am, - - or am not yet, - - my Spirit 
 Reveres the Faith Matilda calls her own." 
 
 Matilda. 
 
 " Hadel ! Art thou a Christian ?"— Trouble sore 
 Pursued him, . . sharp'ning ev'ry pang he bore. 
 At length, in wilder accents, — " What I am, 
 Or what believe, I know not, - - gazing thus 
 Upon that form, and lisfning to thy song ! — 
 The mission of thy Prophet, and the lore, 
 Strike at the Koran. Ere my creed be christian, 
 Deep thoughts, and Vet'ran-Teachers, must prepare me 
 To curse, . . yea war upon, . . my crowned Brother, 
 And Kindred all,— to scourge my Parent-Land, — 
 And bless, and succour with my redd'ning steel, 
 Yon foreign Swarms, that come to blast our Name ! 
 
 Yet, then, I do not yet, I cannot, ' hate 
 
 Mohammed, and his Law.' Nay, He, thy Prophet, . . 
 Grant Him divine, . . must hate the sacrifice, - - 
 The blind, fierce, unconsider'd sacrifice, - - 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 277 
 
 Of all that Nature, Book, and Priest, have made 
 Most dear, most holy. — Pledge me but the vow 
 That seals our love, in Alla's awful presence, . . 
 And He, from whom thy Worship takes a name, 
 May visit me with light, and full-unfold 
 His doctrine, - - now shut up in mystery. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Hope wakened at his words, . . and to her tongue 
 Consent was coming : — An insurgent throng 
 Of joys, threw sober vigilance behind, 
 And batter'd the strong fortress of her mind. 
 
 But, . . like a Sybil ere came down the God, . . 
 Expectant of supernal aid she stood. — 
 Return'd, as from above, with solemn eye 
 She view'd him long, - - and this the dark reply : — 
 " Hadel ! Receive a pledge, before great Heav'n 
 Sworn past recalling : — Never earthly Man, 
 If not thyself, shall, at God's altar, touch 
 Matilda's hand. — No more I speak, or know. 1 "' — 
 
 Not all he panted for, the Pagan heard - - 
 But hope was left him, . . and he blest the word.—*- 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Another Night is gone. — The Lovers lie 
 Serenely stretched upon the rack of pain. — 
 
278 THE DESART CONCLUDED. 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 N 
 
 " Matilda, thou art with me !" — To his cry, 
 Heard, or unheard, no voice return'd again. 
 
 Alarms untried possest her in that hour, 
 As, wide around, her look demands the Train 
 Of Camel, Horse, or helpful Man ... in vain !— 
 Anon, she seems to seek, in land, or sky, 
 
 The succouring form of some celestial PowV. — 
 What finds her anxious eye ?— 
 Arch'd o'er the burning earth, a burning sky ! — 
 I mark the wither'd hope, the mournful moan, 
 Of that lost Maid : — I hear the smother'd ire 
 
 Her Champion breathes, . . but scorns to lavish long 
 On slaves, whose villain-flight had left alone, 
 Sickening amid yon desarts dire, 
 Their Lord, Arabia's Pride, — Matilda, fair, and young! 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " All fled ?" — She paus'd — then, looking where she lov'd, 
 " All, all, ... but thou : — Thou, only, dost not fly, 
 Though Death awaits thee here — Death, borne for me ! — 
 J Tis vain ! — Too late thy self-devoting love 
 Would save me now : — Go ! Fill thy lofty sphere, . . 
 Nor let me, dying, hinder thee to live !" 
 
ook vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 279 
 
 Hadel. 
 
 u O ravish not the joy ! — For thee to die ! — 
 
 What chance, in all my destiny to come 
 
 Could give an end like this ? — What glorious wound 
 
 In the bold front of battle, send my soul 
 
 To Paradise, on such a buoyant wing ? — 
 
 But, life is in us yet : — We fall not here : — 
 Me, Fortune follows — Angels tend on thee ! — 
 The Guide, --the Soldier, --let them pass ! — Behold 
 Hadel, unquelTd, though stricken ; nor the toil 
 Thy need requires, can e'er o r er-task his powY. 
 Cheerly, my Soul ! — The rigours of the way 
 Are well-nigh past - - and, mark ! our sturdy Camel 
 Expects the sign to move ! A few brief hours, . . . 
 And calm, cool, sheltered rest, shall make thee hale." 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Her eves gave meaning to the words that hung 
 In broken music on her thankful tongue. — 
 Step after step, along the horrid way, 
 They live whole years, in one destroying Day. 
 
 At length, as the low Sun relaxed his might, 
 And Eve, without her shadows, warn'd of Night, 
 
THE DESART CONCLUDED. book vn. 
 
 Matild, exhausted of her vital store, 
 
 E'en the car's lenient pace might bear no more ! 
 
 Her hand's faint signal, as it rose, and fell, 
 
 Sad-prov'd the ruin it essayed to tell. — 
 
 The Chief, - -whose fibres, as the Maid sits by, 
 
 Touch'd by their neighboring unisons, reply, - - 
 
 Stops, — -and with wild, impassionate remorse, 
 
 Lays heavy on himself her wasted force. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Still on his frame, Disease, now fiercer grown, 
 Discharges pang on pang, to break him down :-— 
 But, the sweet Maiden seen to fall, — her pain, 
 His own expelling, vigour'd him again ! — 
 And lo ! Elusa's tow'rs at length display'd ! — 
 Thither himself shall bear the bloodless Maid ! — 
 
 He moves, nor, in the crisis of that hour, 
 
 Aught feels, or fears, the wreck of all his powV. — - 
 His were the sinews, by no tension tir'd, . . 
 Strong-serving, as the Master-Will requir'd : — 
 But Fever had besieg'd him, day by day, 
 Loos'd ev'ry joint, and sto?n his might away : — 
 
 The limbs refuse their tribute to the mind, 
 
 And Earth receives them, on her breast reclin'd ! 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 281 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Matilda wakes again — but, . . dreadful more 
 Than the last mortal struggle, . . wakes to view 
 Her Soul's Companion true, - - 
 
 Her potent Guard, and the World's Pride, - - 
 In equal fate, faTn, vanquish'd by her side : — 
 She look'd, as the long reign of Time were o'er ! — 
 Touch'd for the miserable Maid, . . 
 
 No sickly sign he shews : — 
 " Great Alia ! Grant us years on Earth !" he pray'd, 
 " Ere yet we join in Heav'n !" — Aloft he rose 
 Re-animate, . . and raising her anew, 
 Once more athwart the waste his march essay 'd. 
 
 Still, many a forward, straining step he drew, 
 
 Till his last forces flew. — 
 
 Death seems at hand - - but brandishes in vain 
 His final dart. — While yet the life-blood flows, - - 
 
 Remanding his departed pow'r amain, 
 From the deep chest a thunder'd shout he throws : — 
 Back from the Desart's bound 
 Hills, rocks, and tow'rs, reverberate the sound ! — 
 His vocal feat achiev'd, as in despite 
 
 Of sinking Nature, the spent Hero fell, 
 
 And, falling, with connubial arm 
 Encircled his lov'd Maid, as with a charm 
 Of blessed powV. Her passive form the spell 
 Oppos'd not, . . while, from each, Remembrance wing'd her flight. 
 
THE DESART CONCLUDED. book vii. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Death-still they lay, in trance profound, 
 
 When the loud speed of Horsemen shook the ground.- 
 Their calls, that reach'd the slumber'd Lion's ear, - - 
 By her, by him, unheard, came swelling near ; — 
 E'en Hadel's name, still floating in the cry, 
 His dulFd sense touch'd not into sympathy. 
 
 Now, o'er the lifeless Pair, afflicted stand, . . 
 Brought by his cry, . . a Saracenic Band. — 
 To these, the Remnant of yon faithless Crew 
 His peril had imparted as they flew. 
 Sped by alarm, they sought him through the Waste, 
 And, freighted with assistance, find at last — 
 Find what? . . and how ? — find Glory's grandest Birth 
 Remingling with the trodden dust of Earth ! — 
 
 Abdallah led the Troop, in many a War, 
 
 Chief Satellite of Hadel's fulgid Star.— 
 Grief at his heart, ... he tends, with eager aid, 
 The down-struck Warrior, and th 1 expiring Maid. 
 
 Their bodies to a soft support consign'd, 
 And shielded from the stroke of Sun, or Wind, — 
 Conspiring hands, alternate, bore along 
 The doleful burden, all unconscious hung. 
 
 Short was the march : — Ere cloudy Vesper threw 
 Her mantle, reeking with pernicious dew, 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 
 
 The Desart lay behind them. On its bound, 
 The Friends are couch'd in a cool Grot profound. — 
 Their eyes have lost the light — they heave no breath — 
 Both sleep, if yet they sleep, in the dark porch of Death ! 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 And if they live no more, - - the gloom 
 
 Of an untimely grave, 
 Dispersing like a cloud, shall give them room, 
 
 While their freed souls fly to the resting-place 
 Where Saints, through toil and trial firmly brave, 
 Expect their crowns, - - victorious in the race ! — 
 And, at the Day of Doom, 
 
 Together calTd, shall both aspire 
 To climes beyond the Sun, . . and with the Choir 
 Of Angel- Spirits, bathe in bliss on high, 
 Through the still-spreading Cycles of Eternity ! 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Pass from the scene, where Death, in doubtful strife, 
 Disputed with the lingering powVs of life. — 
 Shade, and repose, went on, - - and by the care 
 Of Providence, a learned Leech was there. 
 Matilda thank'd his healing hand. — The Chief 
 In his God-gifted vigour found relief. — 
 
284 THE DESART CONCLUDED. book vii. 
 
 His Maid restor'd, - - he struggles to revive ; — 
 
 " Her chance be mine, to languish, or to live !" — 
 
 Still Conq'ror, e'en to Death he will not yield, 
 And Maladies before him quit the field. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 MenVry, with health returning, gave to mind 
 Lennore, . . in lonely sadness left behind. 
 No longer may the sister brook delay : — 
 Elusa calls : — -in thought she starts away. — 
 
 Hadel hath drawn the secret from her eye, - - 
 And, swift as her desire, the coursers fly. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 While now, at Eve, Lennora kept her cell, 
 Watching the melancholy shades that fell, - - 
 Such wonderment, as if some Spirit bright, 
 Shot from above, had flash'd upon the night, 
 SeizM ev'ry powY, as on her vision play'd, 
 In roseate lustre coming, the lov'd Maid ! — - 
 
 Call for a sprightlier Muse, to picture true 
 The spring of their embrace — the thoughts that flew 
 Too thick for utterance — the wild reply 
 To the wild question . . each confus'dly crost 
 By breathless words, in sweet contention lost. 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 285 
 
 The storm of joy o'er-blown, — each found increase 
 Of happiness, in the clear calm of peace — 
 Peace, - - deeper, dearer, for the pangs, and fears, 
 Now felt no more ; and oft, with smiling tears, 
 They paid large thanks to Heav'n. ''Twere hard to know, 
 On which had lain the heavier weight of woe - - 
 Her, . . by the toils and terrors of the Waste 
 Borne down, till ev'ry breathing seem'd the last, — 
 Or her, . . secure, - - yet sharing, by the pow'r 
 Of Fancy, ev'ry pang, through ev'ry hour ; 
 Till Ignorance, by Love conceiving, bred 
 Alarms . . than e'en the dreadful truth more dread. — 
 Matilde, . . as eager Sympathy requir'd, . . 
 Flow'd in long tales, with voice that never tir'd ; 
 
 Ah ! never for her task, with welcome force, 
 
 On Hadel turn'd the torrent of discourse ; 
 And, as dire dangers through the story rose, 
 His all-performing might still flourish'd in the close. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 In such content, yon Sister-Dames employ 
 Ten golden days. — How short thy visits, Joy ! — 
 
 One sinks again into the widow'd Wife, 
 
 Each hour of absence a dread pause of life ; — 
 One . . cherishes a widow'd Maid's despair : — 
 For, now must Hadel quit his precious Care, 
 To seek the foremost Furies of grim War. 
 
286 THE DESART CONCLUDED. 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 This hour, she marks, in militant array, 
 His Bands, . . to vanish at the dawn of day. 
 
 'Tis Morn. — The Dames arise. — What foes are near ? — 
 The hoof-clang of a thousand Horse they hear !— 
 A youthful Warrior leads ; and in a while, 
 They trace (well-known !) Morenci's mourning smile. 
 He sigh'd : — he spoke : — " At Richard's high behest, 
 I bring you bliss. 1 ' — A missive told the rest. — 
 If liberty be bliss, 'tis written there : — 
 " To Acra speed, in brave Morenci's care." 
 
 Lennora feels the penetrating dart 
 Of rapture, . . as to Richard flies her heart. — 
 Sopn, Pity drowns Delight, . . and bids deplore 
 A Sister's grief: — Matild must love no more ! — 
 " I stand prepar'd," the Vestal can reply 
 To the fond sorrows in Lennora's eye : 
 " 'Tis Richard calls us, - - and I seem to hear 
 A higher, holier, voice, requiring us 
 To be where Christians are. — Morenci ! welcome 
 Thy message, and the friendly messenger. — 
 Queen, say thy will : — Whate'er thine urgency 
 Hence to depart, - - from me dread no delay." 
 
 With Saladine, had Richard sign'd the scroll, 
 That freed th' illustrious Pair ; — and if the soul 
 Of Hadel, in a Lover's rage, rebel, 
 He must debate with Richard, steel to steel. 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 287 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 In arms again, and parting for the war, 
 Hadel had kenn'd yon Mission from afar, - - 
 And, all surmising, to the Christian Band 
 Presented him with port of proud command. — 
 Lennore, advancing to repress the cry- 
 Told by his mounting blood and flaming eye, . . 
 Clears from offence the Youth, and bids him shew 
 Th' imperial fiat, sign'd by Friend, and Foe. 
 
 Turn'd, in its headlong course, on Richard came 
 The tide of wrath ;— nor e'en a Brother's name 
 Great Saladine defends. — But mark the pow'r 
 Of love, in Desperation's wildest hour ! 
 Ere the prompt thunder fell, - - yon silent Maid 
 Had reach'd him with a glance that full-convey'd 
 Reason, — Reproof, — Persuasion, softly kind, — * 
 With Virtue's ruling Majesty combin'd. — 
 
 He vibrates yet, with many a lofty start, 
 
 When, launching at the Chief a surer dart, 
 She strikes his only vulnerable part : — 
 Aside, the Lover hears her whisper'd will : 
 
 " Hadel ! If thou detain me captive still, 
 When Richard bids me home, - - his haughty Soul 
 Should meet with answ'ring scorn, or fierce defy, 
 
288 THE DESART CONCLUDED. i 
 
 Thy proffer'd Brotherhood (if e'er, in troth, 
 Such bond may be) ; — nor, for myself, this hand 
 Shall e'er, unsanction"^ by my Sov'reign's will, 
 E'en at a Christian Altar, plight my vow " 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 'Twas HadePs, in one lofty sphere to shine : — 
 
 What time he mark'd inevitable woe 
 Aim'd at his heart, — at once, with force divine, 
 
 Self-sacrinVd, he turn'd him to the blow. 
 
 Whoso behold him now, . . his pangs profound 
 Surmise no more than were he fram'd of stone : — 
 
 So stood the Spartan Boy, without a sound, 
 While the clok'd felon to his heart fed on ! 
 
 One, only, knows (though ev'ry sign deny) 
 
 Th' intestine wreck, for her so bravely borne :— 
 
 She sends him, from her love-dissolving eye, 
 A look, . . that lights the way for Hope's return. 
 
 Mute, he surrenders up that hand of snow, 
 To him that for possession pants in vain ; — 
 
 But, ere he let the lovely tender go, 
 
 Hath prest it ; and (O bliss !) - - it prest again ! 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 289 
 
 That look, . . that pressure, . . that celestial tone, . . 
 
 To Love's victorious flight so dearly due, 
 Had recompense, thrice o'er, his ev'ry groan 
 
 For ev'ry grief . . . save parting from her view ! 
 
 Now trembles from the tongue, on either side, 
 Love's final word - - sad requiem of the Past ! — 
 
 In One, that rigid sound seems mollified, . . . 
 One, . . from long widowhood recal'd at last. 
 
 Yet Sorrow darkens thy delight, Lennore ! — 
 
 Hadel - - Matilda - - hang upon her heart ; — 
 And e'en as Richard's image brightens more, 
 
 Deeper she feels their mournful doom to part I 
 
 Her bosom, by Affection strong-control'd, 
 
 Swells, e'en to anguish, as Remembrance brings 
 
 Th' o'er-flowing stream of benefits untold, 
 
 Still pour'd by Hadel from a thousand springs. 
 
 Yet is her heart's warm eloquence forborne ; 
 
 Thanks, by the bending form alone are giv'n - - 
 Lest one devoted thought, or look, be torn 
 
 From her, ... his Health, — his Hope, — his World, — his Heav'n 
 u 
 
290 THE DESART CONCLUDED. book Vii; 
 
 Agnes might weep, as now Morenci led 
 
 The Sisters to yon chariot, prompt for flight. — 
 
 He calls his gallant Band, . . and at their head 
 
 High-mounted, sounds the signal. — Day, seems Night ! 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 When do the Worthies of the World, storm-bred, 
 
 Bring their whole courage forth ? — Still then the most, 
 When Earth's ignoble Fry, 
 That, unrecorded, crawl, and die, 
 Give life and hope for lost, - - 
 Half-slain, ere yet Misfortune's bolt be sped. — 
 When does the Hero proudly soar 
 
 E'en to the topmost pinnacle of Praise ? — 
 When, like a Demigod, he triumphs o'er 
 
 The Passion, . . varnish'd with a virtuous name, . . 
 That, luring him to shame, 
 Turns the full-swelling tide of his immortal days ! 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Great Hadel, - - in delicious languor drown'd 
 
 Longtime, and ravish'd with a radiant scene 
 That shew'd like Heav'n, - - deserted, gazes round ; 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 291 
 
 What to behold ?— 
 Black, heavy cares, and crosses, . . form'd, I ween, 
 To strain the strength e'en of that bosom bold ! — 
 Fate, like a Fury, threatens to confound 
 
 His dearest ties, . . . King, Brother, Country, Fame, 
 
 Religion, with his Prophet's vaunted name, 
 
 And blot them from record, as things that ne'er had been ! — 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 As when the Lion, . . from his dread career 
 
 ^Long held by sleep, and terrible no more, . . 
 Wakes in the treach'rous toils ; with eye severe 
 
 He starts, . . and, bounding from the bosky ground, 
 
 Rends cord from cord then, raising one wild roar, 
 
 That quails the subject-forest round, 
 From his mane shakes repose, 
 And, in fell freedom, hurls him on his foes ; — 
 The Hero thus, . . Lord of himself at last, . . 
 
 E'en like himself resolv'd all, all, to save, 
 
 Where safety's latest hour of hope had past. — 
 Hard-sieg'd in Cesarea's walls, alone, 
 (Alone, though circled with the Brave, 
 
 Since Hadel came not,) Saladine fail'd fast, 
 
 Yet, arm'd with courage new, 
 And rising as the peril grew, 
 Headed resistance, — bade the Crescent wave, — 
 And, high above Despair, upheld his reeling throne. 
 
292 THE DESART CONCLUDED. book vii. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Now, tremble, Christians ! — To redeem his Name, 
 
 Lost for a while in Love's inglorious bow'r, 
 Behold, . . in proud pre-eminence the same 
 
 As when his acts made work for sounding Song, . . 
 The Thcjnder-bolt of Battle drives along !^- 
 And like as Thunder by the sweeping show'r 
 Is follow'd close and strong, 
 
 So Hadel brings the Myrmidonian Band 
 That ne'er, save once, (and sore they rued the hour !) 
 Dar'd pause, or ponder, on his dread command. 
 Now, . . fiery as the troop they bore, . . 
 His Horse contend to lead the fight ; — 
 Not eagles, with the quarry full in sight, 
 
 Had past them. — Spurring, at the dawn of Day, 
 From Gaza, — now, ere ev'ning shade the shore, 
 
 Yon Warriors hail thy towering height, 
 Fam'd Cesarea, --catch th' uncertain roar 
 Of arms, . . . and with a tremulous delight 
 Acknowledging the sound, predestinate their Prey. 
 
 
 XL. 
 
 If Hadel, sped for vengeance, halt his Band, 
 
 No trivial dangers warn ! — With distant view, 
 His eye, from yonder lofty stand 
 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 
 
 Wide-ranging, hath embraced the Field, 
 Studded with helm, and scymetar, and shield. 
 On eVry side, the Battle grew, 
 
 Swelling, or falling, with alternate press : — 
 
 It seem'd as Earthquake were at hand, 
 
 Or, as old Ocean labour'd with the stress 
 Of counter-storms that blew, 
 
 High-tossing his huge billows numberless, . . . 
 The wild Sea threat'ning to devour the Land ! 
 And as that briny World, in savage play, 
 Now darkens o'er, - - now, letting in the Day, 
 
 Shews out her foamy surges, crown'd with light, — 
 So, from yon dusky champain, ray on ray, 
 Striking, by fits, on brass and steel, 
 To HadePs rapid eye reveal 
 Hosts, of no friendly name, fierce-flashing on the sight. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 What stands decreed ? — Rashness, no more than fear, 
 Sorts with a Leader's name : — Can he that stood, 
 The mark of martial eyes for great command, . . 
 
 And mild, as great, . . with destiny severe 
 Condemn to drown in their own blood 
 Yon Band, that long have lov'd him as their food, 
 And followed him through raging fire and flood ? — 
 
294 THE DESART CONCLUDED. book vii. 
 
 No : — Ready, for himself, to scour the land, 
 Though Fiends might front him in his rash career, 
 He might not see, without a tear, 
 
 Their feeble numbers, in th" unequal strife, - - 
 Now, stoutly standing in the close 
 Of rugged contradiction, spear to spear - - 
 Then, hurried out of life, 
 
 (Or, living, to the vultures hurl'd,) 
 By swarms of eager Foes, 
 Whose inroad hath dispeopled half the World ! 
 
 XLII. 
 
 What Valour yet may win, - - his words 
 
 Have made yon Gallants know. What time the Sun, 
 Their Enemy, shall quench his light, 
 
 And sleep, and secresy, come on with Night 
 
 Hark ! — 'Tis the Heroes waited signal ! — Swords 
 
 Answer his call. — " To horse !" — In forward flight 
 They vanish off. — The business ? — Count it done I — 
 Led by the Chief, whose ardour flings behind 
 The fleetest of his Train, 
 
 On, through the shadowy Camp they pour, - - 
 Dark, sudden, furious, as the midnight-wind, 
 
 That spreads with desolation, sea, and shore ! 
 Where'er they sweep the plain, 
 
 
book ra. THE DEiART CONCLUDED. 9g6 
 
 All scatters : — breasted by the force 
 Of raging Man, and rampant Horse, 
 Tents fly to fragments, . . . while, arous'd in vain, 
 Their habitants, hewn down, and trampled o'er. 
 Like prostrate sheep, the wolf before. . . 
 Lie sturm M, - - or, with a ladder fate, are slain. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 rile now, from bound to bound. 
 
 The terror of that bold invasion fle~ 
 Felt in the stroke, or gather d from the sound, . . 
 Brief, grim, <alpn<^ 3 reignd around- — 
 
 Meantime, ere yet the wilder d Victims knew 
 
 If realties were dreams, . . or dreams were true, 
 Those Warriors of the Night, 
 FoITwing the sword, whose fiery light 
 Ne'er faiTd them in their gloomy Walk of Blood. - - 
 By Cesareans portal panting stood. — 
 HadeTs dread shout ! — As Friend, or Foeman, hears, 
 TRs thunder, . . or the music of the Spheres ! — 
 That music, to a Brother's ear first known, 
 Was mix'd with discord by the brazen tone 
 
 Of Richard, coming like an angry Goc — 
 
 Arabs, rejoice f — Your Sultan's ruling nod 
 Ha;;. the Saviours of his throne: 
 
296 THE DESART CONCLUDED. book \n. 
 
 Ere the fierce Hunters, full in view, 
 
 Can reach, and whelm them, with expanded leaves 
 
 The friendly Gate their Troop receives, 
 Triumphant bounding through : 
 In quick return swung back from far, 
 The strong-shut barrier breaks yon rushing Flood of War. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 A volley of exulting cries 
 
 O'er many a league the news hath blown, 
 (What other joy could shake the skies ?) 
 
 That he, — the Crescent's Light, of yore, 
 And, late, its Hope . . till hope was o'er, — 
 In present, living glory, blest their eyes ! — 
 
 Longtime an alien from his own, - - 
 Deaf to the trump, and for the Prize 
 Of love, renouncing all, - - 
 He sank — but on a prouder wing to soar 
 Amid those lofty regions of renown, 
 
 Where Love's attraction threats no second fall ! — 
 Drunk with delight, where'er he flies, - - 
 All, as a spell were in his name, 
 To kill Despair, and sinew the faint frame, 
 Laugh Danger down — again up- throw the die 
 Of battle, . . and fore-welcome Victory ! — 
 Thus have I seen the slack'ning flame 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 297 
 
 Of some wide conflagration, - - sudden blown, 
 As the dread Spirit of the Winds went by, 
 Break into blazing rage, and mount on high, 
 Till Nature seemed unsafe on her auspicious throne ! 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Hadel ! 'twas thine to give, . . ah ! not to share, . . 
 
 The pride, in ev'ry glitt'ring eye confest : — 
 Shame work'd her stings within him . . . worse to bear 
 
 Than whatso, yet, had wrung him, or opprest. 
 He, that once challeng'd all the Demon-Crew, - - 
 Now, shrank, dishearten'd, from a Brother's view : — 
 Yet, what he dreaded, scorning to decline, 
 He claim'd sole conference with royal Saladine. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Alone they met. — So long the Chiefs were drown'd 
 In the deep sea of Thought, ere, yet, a sound 
 
 From either came, as well some curious ear 
 
 Might listen at the breathless tomb, as here. 
 Under his Monarch's planted look, the eye 
 Of Hadel fell : — thus, at the searching cry 
 Of Nathan, rais'd in condemnation bold, 
 Th' anointed Lord of Israel stood controPd : 
 
298 THE DESART CONCLUDED. book vh. 
 
 And, as that Prophet, with a voice from Heav'n, 
 For penitence, proclaimed his fault forgiv'n, 
 So the mild Sov'reign. Melted into grace 
 Tow'rd Him, . . the Prop of their imperial Race, 
 He knew, bright-blazon'd on that lofty brow, 
 Each golden Character : — Clear Virtue, now, 
 O'er all his form a cloudless glory throws, 
 That promises perdition to the Foes. 
 
 The contrite Hero, (Who shall doubt the Cause, 
 When Admiration pleads, — Affection draws?) 
 Magnanimously modest, gains the day.— - 
 No more,, in a blank muse, they stand away, - - 
 But, without speech, or mem'ry of the Past, 
 Heart presses throbbing heart, in union fast. 
 
 XL VII. 
 
 Then, Prince of Mortals ! in a bursting show'r 
 Came the first tears that from thine eyes e'er fell,— 
 
 Those eyes, that knew no moisture, at the hour 
 When sweet Matilda look'd a last farewell ! — 
 
 At length, self-lacerating words began : — 
 
 Hadel. 
 
 " O more than friend, . . than brother^ — more than Man \ 
 Recal that clement smile, . .severer far 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 299 
 
 Than the fierce lash I merit, . . while it tells 
 
 What lenity I long have trampled on ! — 
 
 Love caught me — Love, who captives, late, or soon, 
 
 Whatever breathes. — Nay Heroes captive him : — 
 
 Yet I, submitting to the Tyrant's law 
 
 With vile prostration, courted him to bind 
 
 These hands, and in the scabbard lock my steel :— 
 
 E'en yet, a truant Slave, I drag the chain 
 
 That held me, . . . but shall hold no more, nor stay 
 
 My spring upon yon Victims gather'd round.'" 
 
 Saladine. 
 
 " How ! — Slave, is Coward ! - - and hath Malek Hadel 
 His corner in a Coward's History ?" — 
 
 Touch'd by the word in ev'ry fibre, he 
 That in a Brother's form had seem'd to see 
 
 Shame's Comforter, at once, with crest rear'd high, 
 
 Recoil'd aloof ; while in his level'd eye 
 
 Stood lightning ready. — What, had living Man, 
 
 Save One, . . by look, or sign, convey 'd the Ban ! 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Love make the Coward !— Love creates a soul 
 
 In his true Liegeman, . . nor e'er saw him start : — 
 Could the bright Lady of his heart 
 
300 THE DESART CONCLUDED. book vii. 
 
 Command her faithful Homager to dive 
 In dismal Acheron, alive, — 
 
 To take Ixion's place, for aye to roll 
 
 Th' unconquerable stone, — to pine and waste 
 By condemnation to th' insulted fast 
 
 Of Tantalus, — yea, with immortal throe, 
 
 To breed new vitals for the Vulture's beak, 
 
 Thou should'st not find that Spirit weak : — 
 Tell how his pains may pacify her woe, - - 
 Then task him — to the proof behold him go \ 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Still stood the darken'd Hero, silent long. — 
 At length, Consideration us'd a tongue : — 
 
 Hadel. 
 
 " Coward ! — Thou know'st me, Sultan ! — and thy word 
 Was idle breath, . . or but an instrument 
 To rouse, not rack me. — I did speak myself 
 Love's Truant-Slave : — But thou hast heard, beside, 
 My heart's deep oath, . . no more, for Love, to stray 
 
 From Glory's upward path, or, in a dream, 
 
 Fall headlong from the mountain to the vale. — 
 
BOOK VII. 
 
 THE DESART CONCLUDED. 301 
 
 Yet, read me truly. Pow'r, and Will, are mine, 
 
 To temper, — not destroy, — an Energy 
 
 That fills my Being, . . and, in some blest hour, 
 
 May lift me hence to Heav'n. Meantime, be told, 
 
 It slumbers not : — here, here, it beats, and burns, . . . 
 
 My pulse of life, - - nor, e'en in death, shall die. 
 
 Yea, Saladine ! Thyself, . . my love's grand Foe, . . 
 
 Shalt feel thine opposition charm'd away 
 
 By the sole sight of her in whom I live, - - 
 
 With whom am One. — Matilda lov'd no more f — 
 
 If e'er I gain such empire o'er my soul, 
 
 As to behold Perfections absolute, . . 
 
 Rare, . . nameless, . . numberless, . . alone in her 
 
 Sweet-centred, and with harmony divine 
 
 Around her moving, then, turn, cold, away, — 
 
 If I shall rule me thus, . . or thus be ruTd, 
 
 May Plague, or Lightning, strike me ! 
 
 I have said : — 
 
 Let none dare doubt me more : — I mean to starve 
 
 My hungry hopes, ne'er pamper them again. — 
 
 To arms ! — I scent the morn ! — Give me a charge - - 
 A busy one - - that I may dash the blur 
 From off my Name, . . and give these Nazarites 
 To taste the bitter hate I bear myself, 
 In forms of dole, and death, untried before !" 
 
302 THE DESART CONCLUDED. book vii. 
 
 L. 
 
 Saladine. 
 
 " Hold, Brother of my heart ! — Spare them awhile: — 
 
 Calm thee and I shall recreate thine ear 
 
 With words of hope, . . expected least from me. 
 
 6 Thy love's grand Foe' thou call'st me : — Mark my tale. — 
 
 Regard yon Host : — by thousands numb'ring them, 
 Count on by thousands more ! — Now, glance around 
 On these, our gallant Few. Long pick'd away 
 With shaft, and sling, . . or by War's enginry 
 Thunder'd to death in shoals, . . the Most are gone. 
 Yon Remnant see, worn down with dizzy watching, 
 And Drought, and Suns, and Valour's pauseless toil. 
 Thus thinn d, — exhausted thus, — believe them, still, 
 The Strength, erewhile, of those proud armaments 
 That shock'd the Cross. Others, in parts remote, 
 Sword hath cut off — Plague poison'd— Famine pin'd — 
 Famine, - - sprung up from yon devouring Swarm 
 Of Western Locusts, hourly multiplied, 
 That, fast'ning on our fields, have robb'd the ground 
 Of its fair green — of nurture, Beast, and Man. 
 
 For These, - - our Friends at th' utmost need, that bear 
 Immovably what Fortune worst can do, -- 
 
boos vir. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 303 
 
 I could endure no more their miseries 
 Endur'd for me. — So shaken, I remember'd 
 The name of Hadel — him, who hath, at last, 
 Remember'd Virtue, and (from Virtue parted 
 Never before,) . . Himself. I have in hand 
 The purchase of twin blessings, bound in one, . . 
 Each waiting on thy voice : — let Hadel, then, 
 Seal his own bond of love — our bond of Peace." 
 
 LI. 
 
 Hadel. 
 
 " How ! — How ! — For peace I am not in the tune, - - 
 Nor hither have I flown with other hope 
 Than to make Death my Debtor : — but say on : — 
 What hast thou done ?" 
 
 Saladine. 
 
 " What thou should'st thank me for. 
 My trumpet, yestermorn, sounding a truce, 
 
 Was answer'd with assent and, at my call, 
 
 Their Chiefs, of note, under our battlements, 
 Gave audience to my words, while thus I spake : — 
 ' Let young Matilda, Britain's noblest Fair, 
 To Hadel yielded, be the Gage of Peace*' 
 I give the substance, not the circumstance, 
 
304 THE DESART CONCLUDED. book vii. 
 
 Of what my speech propos'tf. — A jealous eye 
 Went with my words, - - that ev'ry visage there 
 Might send me back true tidings : — but, of all, 
 Richard, alone, stood legible." 
 
 Hadel. 
 
 " Not else 
 Were he the Brother of Pursue thy tale." 
 
 Saladine. 
 
 " The letters on his front, I lik'd them not : — 
 
 Yet milder thoughts, anon, would send a gleam 
 Athwart the shade that brown'd him, — and his tongue 
 (The genVal organ,) all response deferring, 
 Spake Wrath, attemper^ with stern courtesy. — 
 But, hark ! — They challenge us to arms ! — Thy coming 
 Falls in fair season — Shew thy purposes.'" 
 
 LII. 
 
 Lo, fighting in his mind, what passions burn, . . . 
 Victorious, and defeated, each in turn ! — 
 Foremost, indignant Pride rejected whole 
 Peace, bought by covenant : — " What ! Shall my soul 
 Descend to parle, and palter, while this hand 
 Can ply the sabre, . . or a wall yet stand ?" — 
 
book vii. THE DESART CONCLUDED. 305 
 
 Next, at his noble heart Arabia's bale 
 Struck with a force that promis 1 d to prevail. — 
 One Bosom-Traitor, 'mid the restless fray 
 That hurries him, he bravely beats away. — 
 Which triumph'd in the struggle ? — Patriot love, . . . 
 Passing the love of women. — Saints above, 
 Sing welcome ! . . and, ye Virtues, weave his crown ! — 
 Pity, and Peace, from your abodes come down ! 
 As he hath heard your voices, - - chain'd his will, - - 
 And stay'd the stroke of his infuriate steel, - - 
 Report him to the Nations, clear'd of shame; 
 And, while his wedded arms enfold the Dame, 
 Up-build into the skies a Temple to his Name ! 
 
 Lin. 
 
 May Battle rage no more ! — The Sultan calls 
 To parley. Straight, below the leaguer'd walls, 
 From HadePs ratifying voice are heard 
 Proffers that lead to Peace ; and, at the word, 
 A solemn Truce, full-plighted, interrupts the sword. 
 
 END OF BOOK VII. 
 

307 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 THE RETURN TO ACRA. FESTAL SCENES. 
 
 THE RETURN TO ACRA, 
 
 I. 
 
 Meantime, by bold Morenci guarded strong, 
 Tow 'rd Acra the bright Sister-Dames remove, - - 
 Each, mute. — Matilda still with Fortune strove ; 
 Though many a load upon her spirit hung. 
 Despair, with hope contended, - - bliss, with pain, - ■ 
 Darkness, with light — a whirling Chaos vain ! — 
 Anon, she wakes to joy, as hour on hour 
 Brings nearer to a Sister's proud embrace 
 Yon Chief, out-soaring all his lofty Race, . . . 
 Palladium of the Christian Pow'r ! — 
 
 Nor less her pure Affection longs to greet 
 Religion, beaming from the face 
 
 Of Wilhelm, lost so long, . . and, at his feet, 
 Let fall her tears, in veneration sweet. 
 
308 THE RETURN TO ACRA. book vhi. 
 
 She smiTd not long ;— 'Tis fear, and sadness, now : — 
 
 As vivid Fancy shifts the scene, 
 Richard before her stands, with scowling brow, - - 
 And e'en the Saint presents an angry mien : 
 
 "01 have trespass'd, , . ne'er to be forgiv'n ! — 
 This heart hath entertain'd, with choice unclean, 
 My Country's Foe th" Antagonist of Heav'n P 
 
 II. 
 
 Thus torn within, . . still could yon generous Maid 
 With pitiful applause behold 
 
 The cautious eye, - - the continence of tongue, - - 
 The likeness of tranquillity, - - display'd 
 
 By sad Morenci, . . sage, at once, and young. — 
 In him, self-ruFd, the Dame looks for a Champion strong. 
 
 III. 
 
 Chance call'd him to the proof ! — Their forward haste 
 Hath left, along the shore of Palestine, 
 Sihor, Beth-Dagon, with Elmelech old ; 
 And, towVd the fall of Eve, they ken, at last, 
 
 Shades, deepen'd by the Cedar and the Pine, 
 Down from the Heights of Acra lengthening fast , — - 
 When see behind, where, turbulently rolFd, 
 Sparkling in arms, with evVy threatening sign, 
 
book viii. THE RETURN TO ACRA. 309 
 
 A PowV of Horse untold 
 
 Comes headlong. Two before the rest advance, 
 As joint revenge had made them jointly bold, 
 
 And Death keen-points from either quiv'ring lance; 
 While banneret, and pennon, throw 
 Defiance from the Crescent-bearing Foe. — 
 Long had the Gallic Chief, in musing lost, 
 
 The Guard led on ;— when, from his pensive dream 
 Arous'd by tramp, and clang, and shouted rage, 
 Quick-turning, he beheld the nearer Host ! — 
 Pursuing, still, his Passion's theme,; — 
 
 In vengeance now, . . as in despondence late,' — 
 
 He snatches at the glory to engage 
 
 In Lovers own war, . . and give yon Hordes to Fate. 
 
 IV. 
 
 But e'en as Love is goading him to fly 
 
 Among their thickest, - - very Love, the more, 
 
 Holds him aloof : — the Champion must be nigh 
 
 His precious Charge — or yon fierce Enemy 
 (As vultures dart upon the callow brood 
 Of th' absent eagle, while she wins their food,) 
 May seize, and drag her to some distant shore. 
 
 No : — his eye shall not leave her, nor his arm ! — 
 
 Yet Pagans may not harm 
 
 The gentle Dames : — At HadePs parting hour, 
 
 Yon passport, like an amulet of pow"r, 
 
310 THE RETURN TO ACRA. book tnt 
 
 He gave he vouch 1 d for good. That sign displayed 
 
 Should paralyse the hand, and blunt the blade, 
 
 Of Soldier, or Bedoueen fell, 
 
 Through Syria's widening Reign : — Who dares rebel ? — 
 
 Morenci, forth-presenting him, holds high 
 
 The symbol of protection, with an eye 
 
 OrdVing compliance, . . . while his hand 
 
 Points to the front of HadeFs dreaded Band. 
 
 Deluded by a motionless repose, 
 That dignified Resolve, the Foes, 
 Mocking yon sigil, (never scorn d before,) 
 Precipitate their charge, with many a deaf 'ning roar. 
 
 When they that rush, on those that stand, 
 
 Make onset, - - e'en the Weak may shock the Strong. 
 Thus throve th 1 Assailants : — many a massy shield, 
 And many a spear, protended with firm hand, 
 Opposed yon Tide in vain ; around the field 
 Lay panting Horse, and Horseman, . . diverse flung, 
 
 'Mid scattered helms, and flitter'd weapons. — " Yield!"— 
 " Yield ?" — Rallied by the Champion, up they sprang : — 
 How their indignant Spirits bravely burn ! 
 
 Each, on his Courser mounted, thundYing through 
 File, or thick Phalanx, galFd the Foes in turn — 
 Gaird, - - but exasperated more ! 
 
BOOK VIII. 
 
 THE RETURN TO ACRA. 311 
 
 The tiger, or the tusky boar, ) 
 
 Might here be taught to rend and gore 
 Their hunters, . . as yon savage Crew, 
 
 Catching the blood-thirst of their Leaders twain, 
 On the bold Christians pour ! — 
 All, bent, alike, to die, or do, 
 
 Now, struggle on the plain, - - 
 Now, bounding high o'er hills of slain, 
 Encounter in mid-air, . . and stroke for stroke renew ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 But mark yon Foe, surpassing all the rest 
 
 In anger, as in lofty mien, 
 O'er whose bright armour flows a brighter vest : 
 
 While plume on plume, in ruffling riot seen, 
 Adorn the helm's high crest : — 
 
 Here, strangely reconcile, behold 
 The Graces, and the Furies, (Worst, and Best,) 
 
 Blent in one beauteous mould ! — 
 This dazzling Wonder, . . striking down 
 All that oppose, to yonder car 
 
 With eager passage hies. 
 Britannia's Queen, with sweet Matilda, there, 
 In supplication sink before the Throne 
 
 Of Him above. O hearken from the Skies, 
 Omnipotent ! — Thy breath alone 
 
312 THE RETURN TO ACRA. 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 Can scatter the dark portents, ere they rise 
 
 To horror's height. Protect from death, or shame, 
 Yon Maid, and Matron ! — Let thy dreadful Name 
 Now to the Reprobate be known 
 In terror-striking vengeance !— Hearken from the skies! 
 
 VII. 
 
 While thitherward yon Leader sped, — 
 
 Not milder, nor more slow, 
 The secondary Chief his Numbers led 
 
 Full on Moreno's Band. The weightier Foe 
 Sway'd back the lighter, . . and impetuous bore 
 The Youth, still battling at their head, 
 
 From his proud post, those royal Dames before. 
 That plumed Warrior, kindling at the view, 
 Fierce at the guardless Chariot flew, - - 
 Seiz'd on Matild, - - and in her ear 
 Whisper'd ... a Name of fear ! — 
 A lamb, caught sudden in the serpent's ring, 
 Shall image, what no Bard may sing : 
 With horror, that forgot to pray, 
 In Agnes 1 deadly grasp she died away ! — 
 
 Not keener, from afar, the hawk espies 
 Her Young invaded, than Morenci's eyes 
 That sight beheld, - - not quicker to their aid 
 Springs, than the Hero sprang, to save, . . to venge, . . the Maid ! 
 
book viii. THE RETURN TO ACRA. 313 
 
 VIII. 
 
 His falchion good, through Man and Steel 
 Making a channel, seems to feel 
 Such wrath, as 'twere a living sword, 
 Leagued in the vengeance of its Lord ! — 
 He passes like a torrent-flood, . . 
 Or moment-lightning through the wood, 
 Where trunk and brandies, root and spray, 
 With blasted shivers mark its way. — 
 Not yet . . though but another bound 
 Is wanting . . has he reached the ground 
 Where Agnes' armed hand (no more 
 Held off by fainting fal'n Lennore,) 
 Aims at Matilda's heart ! — His eye, 
 Marking the thirsty point on high, 
 CalPd from his tongue a direful cry, . . 
 As when disbowel'd iEtna's thunder 
 Shakes the world with fear and wonder ! — 
 From one accursed hand, th' uplifted blade 
 Fell— from the other's hold, yon rescued Maid 
 Sank on Morenci's palpitating breast. 
 Then were his ardent breathings not represt : — 
 Ah, could thy head be still thus pillow'd into rest !"- 
 
314» THE RETURN TO ACRA. book vhi. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Wild with a fear that never fell, 
 Till now, upon yon Jezebel, — - 
 Her blood congeal'd, - - her malice dead, - 
 The Woman-Warrior turn'd, and fled. — 
 Her sex unknowing, — with the fire 
 Of love, and vengeance, in his ire, 
 (His Charge a moment left behind,) 
 He follows like the Desart-Wind ! 
 
 As Agnes parted, on the Car 
 
 Her Complice in th' Assassin- War 
 Sped with determin'd course, . . his eye 
 Fix'd on the Maid perniciously. 
 Mark him ! — A very babe may trace 
 The heart, where Hell is in the face ! 
 
 X. 
 
 Since the dread Night, when Agnes' jealous mood 
 Hunted Matilda to yon Demon- Wood, — 
 The raging, disappointed Amazon, 
 Sought help, and found a thousand Fiends, in One : 
 
 
book vtti. THE RETURN TO ACRA. 315 
 
 To serve her hatred, and avenge her shame, 
 She brib'd for bloody wiles, . . . and Mahmoud came ! — 
 E'en at a glance, his wicked worth she saw, - - 
 Found him deep-learn'd in Mischiefs darkest law, - - 
 Yea (chance too happy !) came anon to know 
 In Mahmoud, . . Hadel's, and Matilda's Foe. 
 Soon was the Complot, in his crafty brain, 
 Like Amphisbaena, doubly fraught with bane ! — 
 Thus in her ear he whisper'd all his art : 
 " To strike at Woman, be the Woman's part. 
 Thy dagger disconcerted, - - mark, behind, 
 What cannot fail our hope : — with sudden hold 
 Myself shall seize her fast, and bear away 
 To a lone cavern, by the sounding seas 
 Rough-shaken, and with shaggy rocks brow'd o'er : — 
 O 'tis a precious nook ! to mortal eye, 
 Save Mahmoud's, all unknown, . . and fitted well 
 For the close love I mean to greet her with. 
 Nay, ask not where : — None from its cabinet 
 May force the secret out, by steel, or fire. — 
 There shall she banquet on wild roots, purvey'd 
 By a mute Slave unseen. — Such destiny 
 Awaits yon Christian Maid. — Meantime, the tale 
 
 To Hadel carries madness zve, my Queen, 
 
 Gloating, in ambush, o'er his agonies, 
 Laid on for life, . . with not a ray to guide 
 His frantic feet, wand'ring the world in vain." 
 
316 THE RETURN TO ACRA. book viii. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Thus he devis'd — and now, at need, 
 Fortune cheer'd him to the deed. — 
 On to his mark, with a tried Force 
 Of bloody Bandits - - Horse on Horse - - 
 He plung'd. — The cries of either Dame, 
 Trembling with Morenos name, 
 Find him - - pierce him - - to the place 
 Turn him from his eager chace, 
 While Agnes ----- Nay, she 'scapes no more ! 
 He shouts^ — he points — a flying Score 
 Of gallants, the gay Prize pursue : — 
 She falls - - - to Condemnation due ! 
 
 Morenci, to the royal car 
 Flown like a shaft, beheld afar, 
 What fiird his veins with boiling blood, 
 
 And stirr'd him to the tiger's mood, 
 
 Yon Treasure of celestial charms 
 In Mahmoud , s desecrating arms ; 
 While, at his beck, a Pagan throng 
 Fiercely help th' infernal wrong. — 
 Morenci breaks through all the Band ; — 
 The sabre, madd'ning in his hand, 
 Comes down — to miss the Monster's head, . 
 And, Oh ! to strike Matilda dead, 
 
 
book vin. THE RETURN TO ACRA. 317 
 
 Should the rash weapon hold its way, - - 
 For, Mahmoud shields him with his Prey ! — 
 In vain the frantic Hero sought 
 "Revenge, . . till thus he woke to thought : — 
 " Red curses, and eternal scorn, pursue 
 Thy Prophet's leprous name, . . and thee, and thine, 
 That give him worship ! — Mahoun be defied 
 By me, a Christian, . . trampling on the Crescent, 
 And scoffing thee / — Lay down thy lovely Spoil, 
 Black ravisher ! . . foul Coward ! . . Woman-Queller I . . 
 And try if thou dare match thee with a Man" 
 
 XII. 
 
 Mahoun reviTd,— the godless Hound 
 Laughed reply, nor felt the sound : — 
 Revil'd, himself, - - all o^r he shook . . 
 And, masking a malignant look 
 Beneath his vizor, , . yielded slow 
 Yon tender Victim to the Foe. 
 
 Mark his movements ! — Breath, nor word, 
 From out those livid lips are heard ; — - 
 But, cowering low, as to implore 
 Grace for a sin repented sore, 
 While his bare weapon, clench'd aside, 
 Still in the sheath pretends to hide, - - 
 He writhes, and winds, with subtlest art, 
 Like the coiPd reptile ere he dart. — 
 
318 THE RETURN TO ACRA. book viir. 
 
 Too late the Youth his purpose found, . . 
 Receiving, deep, a Treachour's wound. — 
 But his prompt sabre to the foe 
 Repaid it with a deadly blow, 
 That, swifter than the sudden targe 
 Up-thrown to meet it, open'd large 
 The stubborn burganet ; — a groan 
 Told of its lodgement in the bone :-— 
 E'en thus the hatchet, wielded well 
 Ey savage hunger, the tough shell 
 Of Indians palm-nut splitting through, 
 In the cleft kernel hides from view. — 
 The Fiends, who at his natal hour 
 Made holiday,.'. . their loss deplore !— 
 
 Morenci, on a -Lover's wing, 
 Redeems the Damsel. With a spring, 
 His hand remounts her on the car : — 
 There, calm in thankful truth, she bides the War. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 In him, three rival Passions move 
 
 Glory — the Cross — Matilda's love. 
 For each, - - for all, - - he combats here :- 
 Ah ! were he proof to sword, and spear, 
 In body, . . as, in soul, to fear !— 
 
book viii. THE RETURN TO ACRA. 319 
 
 While, now, his Bravest, and his Best, 
 Yon Dames defended, - - with the rest 
 Fronting the Foe, he dares them all : — 
 One o'er another, down they fall. 
 
 But, miracles are past : — the doom 
 That hangs o'er such a strife, . . must come : — - 
 While, drown'd in tears, and terrors, the lost Fair 
 Call on his name in vain, they feel thy blow, Despair ! \ 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Soon as Avengement on the sinful head 
 
 Of Agnes fell,— th 1 Avengers, all in haste 
 Returning, tow'rd their distant Fellows fled, . . 
 - Round the beleaguer'd Car seen sinking fast. 
 
 Ah, check your course ! Ye go but to receive 
 
 What Sorrow brings to look, with mourning eyes, 
 
 On your faFn Chief, . . and pity, not relieve, 
 While in the rigid hold of Death he lies ! 
 
 For him, their Pride so late, . . they now survey 
 A mangled Mass, afloat in its own blood — 
 
 Unknown, but for the Hecatomb that lay 
 
 Around him . . . sacrificed, where late he stood ! . 
 
320 THE RETURN TO ACRA. book vim. 
 
 That sight beheld, — at once on yonder Horde, 
 In desolating rage, all wreak their pain ; — 
 
 Nor shall they weep, Morenci, till the sword 
 Count, for each hair of thine, a Pagan slain ! — 
 
 Look if the task be done ! — Each Leader lost, - - 
 
 The heartless Remnant, in disorder sore, 
 Struck faint, and fell : — So, Gallies, torn and tost, 
 
 Then buried by the billows, . . rise no more. 
 
 The Christians, met in solemn Ranks of woe, 
 Resign a murdered Brother to the tomb, — 
 
 Compose his lovM Remains, — let sorrow flow, — 
 And march tow'rd Acra through the gath'ring gloom.— 
 
 Lermora, while she dropp'd Affliction's tear, . . 
 
 Still offered evVy pearl in thanks to Heav'n : — 
 " Pride of the World ! My Richard ! . . Thou art here :— 
 
 For ev'ry lighter loss, be Fate forgiVn !" 
 
 Matilda can, alone, the look behold, 
 
 That glimmerM through Morenci's dying eye, 
 
 And, cast on her in placid sufTring, told 
 
 How Love can triumph o'er Death's tyranny : — 
 
book Tin. THE RETURN TO ACRA. 321 
 
 Still seems that look to linger, - - still implore 
 One gentle boon, of her for whom he died, — 
 
 Friendship in Heav'n, - - to last for evermore, 
 And recompense the dearer bliss denied ! 
 
 Ne'er shall his voice, . . yet heard as from the Dead 
 
 In feeble benediction, . . leave her ear; 
 " Hadel be thine ! — Good Angels crown your Bed ! - - 
 
 And both begin the life celestial, here !" 
 
 Melted in tears of tenderness, the Maid 
 
 Would e'en have died, - - to make him sooner blest ! — 
 A sadd'ning smile had preciously convey'd 
 
 Her kindness . . . and he sweetly sank to rest ! 
 
 XV. 
 
 Meantime, in Ptolemais' walls, yon Sire, 
 With Cceur-de-lion, hail'd the Morn ; 
 While Fancy feasted on the glad return 
 Fair-promis'd : — Yet, in each, Desire 
 So varied, as the trumpet from the lyre. 
 At earliest blink of Day, 
 
 Keen Watchmen, posted on the height 
 O'er Acra, Southward, labour to discern 
 The distant Comers. — Richard, all on fire, 
 Wond'ring chides their slack delay : — 
 
THE RETURN TO ACRA. book viii 
 
 The Dawn, the Noon, pass over, . . and the Night 
 Hath follow'd ;— yet his eager wishes burn 
 
 In vain : — At last, through sullen shadows, Light 
 Sends forth an ominous ray. 
 
 Better were Blindness, here, than Sight ! — 
 Philip of Gaul ! . . What bodements fill thy mind ? — 
 The Troop, descending in funereal woe, 
 
 File after File, with measur'd motion slow ! 
 
 Yon Dames, of drooping mien, in car-borne state behind ! — 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Anon, with trailing lances idly flung, 
 
 While the proud Gallic standard from its height 
 Stoop'd sorrowfully, . . and with wilder'd sound 
 The clarion pour'd its length'ning wail profound, — 
 Through Acra's portal, silent marched along 
 The Retinue of Death, in heartless plight. 
 Their doleful Journey done, — the Queen, . . the Maid, . 
 Their eyes up-raising, view at last, 
 After a world of tribulation past, 
 
 Features, and Forms, long living in the heart 
 
 Of each, themselves, in turn, survey 'd 
 
 By those fond eyes that never more would part 
 With what they gaze on. Yet no smiles are cast : — 
 Their greeting is with glances thrown to Heav'n, . . 
 And tears, prepared for Joy, to grief are giv'n. — 
 
book viii. THE RETURN TO ACRA. 
 
 Now, Richard, with yon Dames apart retires, — 
 While Rage, and Sorrow, damp his Love's bright fires : — 
 For he had priz'd the gracious Youth, 
 Bland, . . yet in honour proud, and striking bold for Truth. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 From Acra's vet'ran tow'rs not far, 
 In mystic, solitary, silence grew 
 
 A Cypress- Wood, whose branches flung 
 Broad shelter o'er the drear Pit, hollowed there. — 
 Darkness had overwhelm'd the Day : — 
 Hoar Wilhelm led, along the sombrous way : — 
 Torch-lighted, round a Warrior's grave they hung.— 
 
 Religion's awful voice, o'er the dead Clay 
 Chaunting Mortality's deep, solemn, song, 
 
 With farewell-resonation floats away, 
 
 Answer'd in mournful thunder by the roar 
 Of pausing surges, from yon wild-resounding shore. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Long, long, Morenci's Image over all 
 
 Hangs like a cloud : — But, for the gentle Maid, 
 
 (Lov'd, woo'd, in vain,) who caus'd his timeless fall 
 
 From her sad soul, that Image ne'er shall fade I 
 
324 THE RETURN TO ACRA. book viii, 
 
 Oft, while the Night, with medicinal dews, 
 And freshly-cooling shades, descended slow, 
 
 Would lorn Matilda, stealing forth to muse, 
 Charm into temper'd rage the stings of woe. 
 
 And still toward Montmorenci's palmy tomb 
 Wandering along the silent shore, alone, — 
 
 Sunk deep in the remembrance of his doom, 
 She vented Lamentation's faithful moan. 
 
 At such dark hour, . . in semblance, or in sooth, . . 
 
 By times his armed Shadow present stood. 
 Compos , d, the Form she saw, with gentle ruth 
 
 Imploring Heav'n to bless the Spirit good ! — 
 
 E'en now, her steps have gain'd yon rocky height; 
 
 The peaceful Moon, full-circled, shines confest, 
 And, on her tributary throne of light 
 
 High-sitting, watches o'er the gen'ral rest. 
 
 The Stars, attendant on their pensive Queen, 
 
 Look forth, and glitter : — not a bird now sings : — 
 
 The Hermit-Owl just ventures to be seen, 
 Her low flight labouring on lethargic wings. 
 
book viii. THE RETURN TO ACRA. 325 
 
 On the calm sea, her sadness to beguile, 
 
 She softly dwells with ruminating eye, - - 
 Sooth'd by the rippling beams, that, all the while, 
 
 Along the liquid silver, glance, and die. — 
 
 Thus rapt, at Midnight's melancholy Noon, 
 
 When Visions oft abuse the working brain, 
 She view'd (Imagination's airy boon,) 
 
 The blessed Land . . she ne'er may greet again ! 
 
 Yon crusted Ruin, whence a mellower gleam 
 Broke faintly, . . like a smile from sinking Age, 
 
 Appear'd, in Fancy's wild romantic dream, 
 
 Her cloistral Home, through Childhood's op'ning stage. 
 
 Hark ! From the Convent's tow'r some Spirit bears 
 
 The dialogues of bells, in mingling roll, — 
 Now, sweeps their dying chimes to other ears 
 
 Now . . . pours out all their music on her soul ! — 
 
 In trance fair-wafted to her lost Retreat, 
 
 Where balmy Quiet with Devotion dwells, 
 The Sisters of her heart she seems to meet, 
 
 Receiv'd once more within their shelt'ring cells ! 
 
THE RETURN TO ACRA, book viii. 
 
 " O there to hide me from a loathed World, 
 
 Where Griefs, and Crimes, and Turmoils, range at will ; 
 
 Where Battle's crimson flags are still unfurl'd, 
 And Love, caressing Traitor ! smiles ... to kill. 
 
 There to unchain my soul ! - - to prune my wings ! - - 
 With hallow'd fire this Earthly to refine ! 
 
 Loos'ning my hold on sublunary things, . . . 
 Then, soaring to my destiny divine !— 
 
 Ah ! like a vapour the warm wish is fled, . . 
 
 Nor heav'nly Love, but human, gave the glow : — 
 One . . solemn tells of joys that wait the Dead — 
 
 One - - softly sings of living bliss below ! — 
 
 Love ! In an Angel's form, some Fiend, I fear ! — 
 
 To God, these fervors of the breast belong ! — 
 
 Deaf to the Demon's note, . . be mine to hear 
 Seraphic sounds, and join th > adoring Song !" — 
 
 Thus, through the wakeful Night, her thoughts aspire, - - 
 Till, one by one, HeavVs golden Sparks retire: — 
 Then, homeward she returns . . o'er-strain'd, - - opprest, - -, 
 The fever'd sense to drown in deep, Lethean rest. 
 
 
 
book viii. THE RETURN TO ACRA. 327 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Love to the Living — Friendship for the Dead — 
 By these long torn within, Matilda bled, . . 
 And her heart fainted, and her slumbers fled. — 
 Not unregarded, nor unpitied, fell 
 The Virgin. Holy Wilhelm found a spell, 
 To lodge once more in yonder bosom fair 
 Its native Angel, . . and expel Despair. 
 He mark'd Love's boundless empire o'er the Dame, . . 
 Nor quench'd (though never had he felt) the flame. 
 Their vows, before a Christian altar giv'n, 
 Her peace reviving, may lead him to Heav'n : 
 Yea more : — This Pagan sanctified, . . the rest 
 May follow, and a Saviour shine confest, - - 
 War cease, -- and all with one pure Faith be blest? 
 
 " How beautiful the feet of them that bring 
 Good tidings, and Salvation sweetly sing !" — 
 Such, Wilhelm, thou. To Cesarea's wall, 
 In quest of the great Sarazen, his Call 
 Directed him. The Sov'reigns gave assent ; 
 Celestials hoverd o'er him as he went. — 
 But hark ! — Yon trump commands a martial Parliament. 
 
328 
 
 FESTAL SCENES. 
 
 Kings, Heroes, Chieftains, rank'd in order sate : — 
 Plantagenet began the brief debate. 
 " Warriors !" he cried,—" That e'en this blank of truce 
 With Pagan Foes, may counterfeit rough war, 
 Lean to my counsel :— bid our Herald sound 
 A gen'ral summons to the listed plain,— 
 Provoking all, . . Christian, and Infidel, . . 
 To vindicate, in solemn Tournament, 
 Each his own Lady's lustre. — Be the strife 
 On the seventh morn begun . . . three days to last. 
 At Eve, shall Knight, and Damsel, drive along 
 The sparkling hours in feast and revelry. — 
 
 Meantime, at leisured ease, the Tyrian Sire 
 With Christian proofs may plough that stubborn soil, 
 A Pagan heart, - - and, after, make us know 
 The produce : — for, on that same colloquy 
 Hangs all. Matilda's marriageable hand, 
 If Hadel yield, may seal a bond of peace : — 
 Else, - - War must wake her slumb'ring fires again.'" 
 
 . XXI. 
 
 So spake Britannia's Lord. His motion drew 
 Glad audience ; and the mission'd Herald flew. — 
 
 Such frowning amity, th 1 Arabian Foes 
 Lik'd well - - and gallant acclamation rose. 
 
BOOK VIII. 
 
 FESTAL SCENES. %%9 
 
 Each felt the joy — but Hadel, over all, 
 Caught rapture from the coming Festival, . . 
 FilTd with one hope : — " This friendly play of arms 
 Re-opens on my view Matilda's charms !" 
 
 XXII. 
 
 The Sun is up in HeaVn, . . erelong to shew 
 Man's loftiest pitch of Grandeur, here below. 
 Broad-spread around the renovated Wall 
 Of Ptolemais, whose time-braving tow'rs 
 Late fell before the Christian, lies a plain, 
 Pav'd with the bones of many a Legion slain. — 
 Hither, exultant at the call, 
 
 Knights, from the turret, - - Ladies from their bow'rs. 
 Come pouring down in golden streams : 
 Valour, and blinding Beauty, mix their beams, 
 Amidst the sheen of banners, waving high, — 
 The dance of Chargers, born in Chivalry, — 
 With challenges of timbrel, trump, and gong, 
 Each answ'ring from afar, the other's gallant song. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Anon was heard the foreign sound 
 Of atabal, and cymbal, on their way ; 
 
 The swelling clangors told 
 How fast the Paynim, . . with array 
 
 Of Horse and Foot, in ardour uncontrord, . . 
 Were deluging the ground : — 
 
FESTAL SCENES. book viii. 
 
 Here let Imagination's eye, 
 Full-waking, labour to behold, 
 In arms refulgent, like a fiercer Day, 
 
 The Leaders of that martial Company, . . 
 Yon royal Brethren twain ! They, at the head 
 Of Araby's fam'd Worthies, battle-bred, 
 
 In port and puissance the Host outshone : — 
 What star were seen, beside a double Sun ? — 
 The Warriors of the Red-Cross joy to view 
 Th* approaching Crescent : — mutual hate is fled, - - 
 Each burning for the listed course, to spread 
 
 The plain with conquest, while his Fair looks on. 
 The Briton, - - HadeFs Form encounfring, 
 The noise of his renown, for true : — 
 As truly was the towVing Spirit shewn, 
 That glorified that Form : — " Let Hadel own 
 The Cross, . . and be Matilda his alone !" — 
 Yet whilst a Rival-Hero drew so nigh, 
 The smothered fires were breaking from his eye : — 
 " Let War set Hadel in my path, ... and Time 
 Shall tell of our accost, in Prose, or Rhyme !" 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Foremost in kingly powV and place, . . 
 
 Well knows Britannia's Lord 
 With bending courtesy to grace 
 
 The grandeur, by mean Mortals half-ador'd. 
 
BOOK VIII, 
 
 FESTAL SCENES. 331 
 
 So temper'd now, . . his all-commanding sign 
 
 Stays back the Christians ; while himself, alone, - - 
 With gallant confidence to greet 
 An Equal on Dominion's Throne, - - 
 Advances tow'rd majestic Saladine. 
 
 Ere yet the Monarchs meet, 
 He of the lion-heart, high-mounted bold, 
 
 Subdues with brazen rein, . . force mast'ring force, . . 
 The rebel-front of his heroic Horse ; 
 
 Bellerophon the Charger's dreaded name, 
 
 Of all his noble race, the Boast and Fame : 
 Richard except, - - whoe'er, of earthly mould, 
 Made but a motion to bestride 
 Th' indignant Arab, ... for his rashness died ! — 
 Ha !— Thund'ring Heav'n, behold !— 
 
 While yet the Courser, oft in prancing pride 
 Vaunted his glorious Rider, - - arms defied, - - 
 
 And spurn'd his chains, - - and rang his maiFd attire, 
 
 Sudden, with rushing speed untold, 
 
 Close at his head a fiery dragon vast 
 (Such form the missile death belied), 
 
 Fierce-flashing, and terrific-roaring, past ! — 
 The blaze was fed with that commixtion dire, 
 By Grecia's art supplied, 
 
 Which, on the victim seizing fast, 
 
 Flames, quenchless, on, . . and burns out life at last. — 
 
33£ FESTAL SCENES. book viii. 
 
 Look ta the Warrior-Horse ! — Unterrified, - - 
 Hot-stung, as all the Furies lent him ire, - - 
 And in mad lust for battle snorting fire, - - 
 With stormy ramp, and headlong desp'rate bound, 
 This way, and that way, o'er the worried ground, 
 He swells, and foams, and fights, through all his frame ! — 
 Such lion-rage may mortal prowess tame ? — 
 A Lion's Conq'ror in the strife hath won : — 
 He quell'd Bucephalus, — and he alone, — * 
 Whose nod was Empire, . . and a World his Throne ! 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Thus, one of Mahoun's unbelieving Swarm, . . 
 Bound by a Covenant with Hell, 
 Not wicked, more than weak, . . 
 Devis'd, by Cceur-de-Lion's fall, to wreak 
 
 Black vengeance on Messiah's Kingdom, - - high 
 O'er human, or Demonian, pow'r to harm. — 
 Foil'd in its hope, the malice fell 
 
 On its dark Author, . . by the lightning-eye 
 Of Hadel struck, that moment when he threw 
 Yon Mischief; — and, as Phalaris first knew 
 The torture, by himself contriv'd so well, 
 Thus he : — the Chieftain, calling high, 
 Hath doom'd him how to die. 
 Hark ! — From afar, infernal howlings tell 
 The slow, sure, course, those clinging fires pursue ! 
 
book vni. FESTAL SCENES. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Justice appeased, each armed Knight, and King, 
 
 With smiling salutation, give the hand 
 Of eonsodality. The clarions ring ; 
 
 While those, late hostile, . . now in social band, 
 Like Brethren, tow'rd the field of contest fare, — 
 Each rousing to deserve the prize, 
 Deliver'd, with her heart, by Beauty's hand ; 
 
 Scarce can their zeal the ling'ring minutes bear.— 
 But Night, ere then, must over-shade this land 
 Of glory, and another morn arise. 
 E'en for the Brave, and Fair, Time will not stay : — 
 Those greetings of the goodly Throng, 
 From East, and Occident, proud-borne along, — 
 Knights, arms, and steeds, in busy ferment gay, — 
 Adjustment of the Tournay's lofty laws, 
 
 By Pursuivant and Herald sounded high, — 
 While Fame, with shrilling tongue, 
 
 At ev'ry hour, from ev'ry region, draws 
 
 New Champions to the bright Solemnity, 
 
 Such hindrances, the benefit of Day 
 
 Have stofn with long magnificence away. — 
 
 While thus Occasion past them by, 
 The Paragon of Knighthood, England's Lord, 
 
 Bade the combin'd Assemblage all 
 To social congress, at the festal board 
 By Luxury laid forth, in regal bow'r and hall. 
 
334 FESTAL SCENES. book viii. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 At Night's return, to yonder Dome repair 
 
 The Turbant, and the Red-Cross, . . Band with Band. 
 
 Preceding all, great Richard led the charms 
 Of her that in the Soldan's bosom reign'd, 
 And on his throne, supreme. Lennora fair 
 Mov'd next, in thine obsequious care, 
 High Salaheddin. Next, a nobler Pair 
 
 Present them, . . throbbing, each, with Love's alarms : 
 See Hadel, - - as by rapture deified, - - 
 Inviting to his touch the tremulous hand 
 
 Of her . . in Hope's delirium hail'd his Bride ! — 
 By marble stairs ascending wide, 
 They reach yon Fabric, pillar'd round 
 
 With porphyry, and all the Quarry's Pride. 
 Portals of brass, with many an arch o'er-crown'd, 
 Receive them, ent'ring to the sound 
 Of mingled Minstrelsy, from echoing bound to bound. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Lustres, high-hung in constellations bright, 
 
 Wasting abroad Arabia's whole perfumes, 
 Emblaze the Dome, . . as, here, some brilliant Flight 
 Of Genii kept the Festival of Light ! — 
 
 Pre-eminent, around the glowing rooms, . . 
 For Dignity prcpar'd, and princely Blood, . . 
 
book vin. FESTAL SCENES, 
 
 Stage above stage, arose to sight 
 
 Magnific Chairs, - - - the woof whereon they stood 
 Thrice textuVd in th' excelling looms 
 Of Iran, or Damasco. Cedar-wood, 
 With elephant and silver dight, 
 
 Supplied the fragrant flooring. Overhead, 
 Estrich, and Phcenicopter sanguine-red, 
 Had lent their pendent plumes, - - 
 Aloft, as from a lower sky, 
 Proud-cresting each imperial Canopy. 
 The walls were sumptuously array'd 
 In tapestries, by Babylonian skill 
 Touch'd into motion, breath, and will: — 
 There, to the cheated sense are warmly play'd 
 
 Scenes of heroic Worthiness, that fill 
 Thy Theatre sublime, recording Story, » . 
 And stir to rival deeds the breast that beats for glory - r 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Such was the Chamber. Let some loftier Song 
 
 Resound yon Mortals, past compare, 
 In stately Pageant heralded along. 
 
 Fancy, wave thy bidding wand ! — 
 The Vision rises ! — Fulgently they stand 
 In coronals, and stoles that fire the air 
 
FESTAL SCENES. book, vm. 
 
 With Tyrian cremosin, full-hung } 
 
 In trains, prolonged through many a flowing fold. 
 But mark yon Majesties, that bear 
 Caftan, and carkanet, and sun-like tiar, 
 
 And mantling purple Gods in march, and mould I 
 
 Their Queens move, radiant Goddesses ! Behold 
 With what consenting grace they wear, 
 At ceremonial Pounds command, 
 Brav'ries, ennobled by the precious down 
 
 Of meniver, and th** Ermine's dainty hair, 
 In vest, or glorious crown ! 
 
 Nor shall my numbers leave untold 
 Samite, and sendal fine, vermilion-stain'd, 
 Each, from the mine, broad-welted :— Here were shown 
 
 Sleek velvets, proudly fring'd^ or show Yd with gold, 
 Braided in glittering tissues rare, 
 
 i With starry zone and cestus round them rolPd. 
 So shone the spoils of Ocean, Sky, and Land, 
 Rich-wrought by Art's elaborating hand ! — 
 But Verse, nor vivid Pencil, dare essay 
 
 Their magic here, or half the wonders tell, 
 Of exquisite device, and quaint inlay, 
 
 Superb with blaz'ning impress, long to spell, 
 Flourished, engraiTd, or fretted, 'mid the play 
 
 Of stones, disdaining price, or parallel, 
 Sparkling ten thousand hues in ev'ry ray !-— 
 
look vni. FESTAL SCENES. 337 
 
 Yet brief the boast of gems, and gold : — 
 
 Those Forms that bear them, fix th' enchanted eye, 
 Obscuring the gay garb's resplendency ; 
 
 Nor heeded are the gorgeous thrones that hold 
 Earth's Paramounts august her Potent, Fair, and Bold ! 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Not long they sate ; — for now the lively call 
 Of trumpets, to refection summon'd all. 
 Compliance followed, blithe and boon. 
 Forgetting cares, . . forgetting Time, . . 
 
 Through each expanded valve the Troops advance, - - 
 When, lo ! yon boundless, bright Saloon,^ 
 By Flora hung with many a gay festoon, 
 
 And fraught with all delights, in all their prime, 
 Passing thy roseate Visions, warm Romance, — 
 Breaks in full splendor on the dazzled eye, 
 As, at a burst, were drawn the curtains of the Sky ! 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Under a spacious cope of sculptur'd gold, 
 The tables, rear'd on columns, (ev'ry stand 
 
 By Lebanon's fam'd forest giv'n,) 
 Down-bend with banquets, piTd on either hand. 
 
33$ FESTAL SCENES. book vm. 
 
 Such delicates, and breathing such a fume, 
 Not he of Rome, whose fantasy o'er-bold 
 
 His Refectories c'glTd by names from Heav'n, ... » 
 No, nor Assyria's pamper'd Lord, whose tomb 
 The triumphs of his palate proudly told, . . . 
 E'er found in dreams of pleasure, — 
 
 Though each, with lavish cost, and care, 
 All elements compell'd, and ev'ry clime, . . 
 Yea the long-buried rolls of Time, . . 
 
 To render up their savoury secrets rare, 
 
 Ambrosial flavours, without name, or measure !— 
 To make the spirits, in a livelier flood, 
 ^ Through all their channels glow, 
 
 Bacchus had bidden ev'ry Vine produce 
 Her quintessence, and drop diviner juice, 
 That Kings might revel in the tempting treasure ! — 
 Here, Nymphs, that like the Houri smiling stood, 
 In chalices of chrysolite let flow 
 
 From golden beaks, in many a stream profuse, 
 What seem'd the lucid Ruby's richest blood. — 
 Still, as the lip gave welcome to its good, 
 A nobler sense on more unearthly food 
 Regal'd : — All instruments, of wind and wire, 
 The goblet with a soul inspire ! 
 Music, and Wine, their pow'rs confound, 
 And ev'ry Guest, . . as Melody goes round, . . 
 With living Nectar mingled, quaffs the cordial sound ! 
 
book vni. FESTAL SCENES. 339 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 While thus, in jubilation high, 
 Lightning shot from eye to eye, 
 The facile heart confest 
 
 Some happy spell, . . some incorporeal air, . . 
 Effus'd o'er all the rest, - - 
 
 As not a sublunary form were there ! — 
 In mutual motion, ev'ry tongue 
 
 Drew hardier confidence from Wine: — The Bold, 
 In tones that through the Palace rung, 
 Acts, or imaginings, of Glory told : — 
 
 The Lover, . . . who, till now, 
 Dar'd but in mute idolatry behold 
 His heart's fair Worship, . . . lightly borne along 
 
 The stream of joy, adventures on his vow 
 
 Repaid with looks that own . . . what Maidens leave unsung 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Nature so feasted, . . yet within the bound 
 
 Of honesty, — at a loud signal giVn, 
 Expectation paus'd profound. 
 
 Blondel was there, - - whose hand, with skill from Heav'n, 
 Had privilege to stir by sound 
 Great Richard, . . . sending his bold Spirit round 
 
340 FESTAL SCENES. 
 
 BOOK Vllf. 
 
 In many a fiery flight 
 
 Then, luring down from its ambitious height. — 
 Now, at the mandate of his Lord, 
 Behold him come, to greet the gladdening Board. — 
 Dubious, awhile, ere Genius feel 
 TV electric spark of zeal, 
 He lightly walks the quiv'ring strings 
 
 All over, like the chemic bee, that wings 
 
 Her fickle round o'er mead, and flushing bow'r, 
 Embarrass'd by the sweets of many a tasted flowV. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 The Spirit came at last. With form bent o'er, 
 Sudden he smote the bounding ranks of wire 
 With all a Poet's - - all a Prophet's fire ! — 
 As Inspiration, more and more, 
 Flash'd th' involuntary lore, 
 
 Deeper he div'd into the chorded lyre, 
 And, ranging low or high, 
 In lawless ecstasy, . . 
 With vehemence undar'd before, 
 
 CalFd up the Subject-PowVs of Harmony : — 
 Now the relenting tones retire, - - 
 Now in sonorous diapason pour, 
 As from a thousand harps in blended roar ! — 
 
book viii. FESTAL SCENES. 341 
 
 He smiles ! — Mercurial notes are nigh : — 
 
 The fingers, as they tip and fly 
 With momentary glance, 
 Make their own music as they dance : 
 Nor eye, nor ear, may catch him ; — drop the chace f 
 'Twere easier evVy turn to trace 
 Of giddy- whirling wheels amid th' Olympic race ! 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Muse of the mirthful descant, hence ! — 
 That look prepares far other eloquence ! — 
 
 Each fluttering air compost, anon, 
 
 Celestial symphonies come swelling on : — 
 Through Hearing's charmed sense 
 
 Their solemn, sacred, intonations wind, 
 By the soul felt intense, . . . 
 
 Op'ning Religion on the mind 
 With such benign mellifluence, 
 
 That whoso, ere that lay began, 
 Desponded, sorrowed, quaiPd, repin'd, 
 Or, to dark deeds inclinM, 
 Beheld a Brother-Man 
 With vengeful ire, or vipVous hate, . . . 
 Lose, as they listen, all that racked their state. 
 
FESTAL SCENES. book viii. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 And now, its latent sorcery to prove, 
 Th' assuasive hand records a tale of love, — 
 One strain distilling from the strings, 
 That sensitively trembles round, 
 
 More liquid-sweet than e'er by voice, or flute, 
 Or melancholious Dove on downy wings, 
 
 Was triiTd, or warbled : — Hush ! It whispers by, 
 With fond expostulation in the sound ! 
 
 Some slighted Swain, once more his plaintive suit 
 Renewing, tells, . . and ah how movingly ! . . 
 What secret, cruel, stings, 
 
 Have left in his lorn heart a hopeless wound. 
 That pleading pause ! — It softly brings 
 The penetrated Nymph's reply ; 
 Delicious parley ... all in melody ! — 
 Still heard, the dulcet notes of love, 
 
 Smooth-faFn, and slowly threatning to be mute, . . . 
 Like the lulTd slumbers of a vernal gale, 
 With gradual dissolution fail 
 From off the languid lute : 
 
 Entrancing silence ! . . to be broken soon 
 More gently, than the stillness of the Grove, 
 By Philomela's tender tune. 
 Awhile, those mellower sounds prevail ; 
 
BOOK VIII. 
 
 FESTAL SCENES. 843 
 
 Till, now, — as when some parting Syren sings 
 With farewell-murmurings, — 
 They steal away ; now, in a silver sigh, 
 The melting modulations faintlier breathe — - and die. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 While thus yon Harmonist, - - a rival Name 
 With Orpheus, or the Lesbian Dame, - - 
 
 Sooth'd evVy nerve, and seaPd the swimming eye, — 
 Some troubled Spirit on his lambent flame 
 
 Gave down a rushing breath : — Tumultuously 
 The clashing chords conspire — 
 
 Hark ! Hark ! A Storm of Batde shakes the strings, - 
 Alarm, and Shout, and bray of bickering steel ! — 
 Gods ! How it burst from all the lyre, 
 That wild infuriate peal, . * 
 Till roof and planted pillars reel, 
 And the high Dome with desolation rings ! — 
 E'en such amaze do Mortals feel, 
 When the spark, touching dire 
 Some nitrous Hoard of War, gives all to Rage, and Fire ! 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Thus rioting in Fancy's varied lore, 
 While rapture darted keen from pore to pore, - - 
 The burning Boy could rule that magic frame, 
 While his hand spoke in evVy Passion's name : — 
 
FESTAL SCENES. book viii. 
 
 Speech he defied, . . yea vocal Song, . . to tell 
 With such a force, their conflict, ebb, and swell. — 
 The Deaf, his action marking, and the glow- 
 That colour'd him at ev'ry sweeping blow, 
 Heard by the sight : — The Sightless, hearing true 
 The roll of that rich thunder, seem to view 
 The wonder-working hand that bids it brew ! 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 He ceas'd : — the Convocation high 
 
 Long sate, . . . with admiration dumb ; — 
 When suddenly, as from the sky, 
 
 A Band of merry Minstrels wake the Room !— 
 Prompt at the call they come . . 
 
 Yon Flight of Damsels, deft and airy, - - 
 Presenting to the cheated eye,. 
 In volant vests, of ev'ry dye, 
 
 Nymphid, and Sylph, and Fairy ; 
 While tricksy Cupids, darting love, 
 Drop from the mimic Heav'n above. 
 With light prelusive bound, 
 
 More nimbly tripping than the fawns that rove, 
 Unheard, unfelt, they wanton round 
 In many a lithe vagary, . . 
 And featly blend, or vary, 
 Their frolic fancies voluntary, 
 
 Ere the free limb submits to move 
 
BOOK VIII. 
 
 FESTAL SCENES. 343 
 
 By rigour of harmonic laws profound. — 
 Checked in mid flight by a known sound, 
 
 They pant, they flutter, like the perching dove,--- 
 Stand for a start, . . and long, again to leave the ground ! 
 
 XL. 
 
 " Begin f' — With lisfning foot, and ruly spring, 
 True to the timbrel, and the string, 
 
 They glide, or wind, by cunning, curious ways, 
 Through each Daedalian maze 
 Of the Dance, . . buoyant on etherial wing ; 
 
 Some finer charm in evVy movement stealing 
 From evYy Muse, and Grace, — embodied Feeling ! — 
 The plausive Throng, with shifting gaze, 
 Now catch, now lose them, in the restless ring:— 
 Eluded thus, we thus admire, 
 When, kindling round the North, Aurora plays 
 Her fitful vibratory rays, 
 
 Which, ere the winking eye can ope to see 
 Their subtle motions, through Immensity 
 Shoot . . and retire ! — 
 
 Now, the fantastic Orgie mounts yet higher ! 
 Agile and gay as light, the Quire, 
 
 Again let loose to glee, 
 No longer follow, but inspire, 
 Their tiptoe Muse, Terpsichore ! 
 
3^6 FESTAL SCENES. book vin. 
 
 The heart beats measure to the knee, . . 
 While ev'ry lightning-foot, on fire, 
 Quickens the timing stroke, and animates the lyre ! 
 
 XLI. 
 
 When fled they ? — Ask the Spirits, upward flown, 
 What moment rapt them to the World unknown !— 
 
 Rise, Revellers ! Your organs of delight 
 Can bear no more. — All blessings of the Night 
 Come down in slumb'rous dew !— Farewell, till Morning bright ! 
 
 XLII. 
 
 And were all ears that heard, - - all eyes that saw, 
 Busied, alike, upon the Feast 
 That courted ev'ry sense to be carest ?— 
 
 Hadel ! — Matilda ! — Speak, and say 
 Have yon seductive tones in either breast 
 
 Sunk deep or did the vaulting Dancer draw 
 
 Your wonderment, and make the spirit gay, 
 While at the board oppos'd ye sate ? 
 
 (Oppos'd — for, pudency, or virgin-pride, 
 Forbade the pressing Lover from her side : — ) 
 Where were your hearts, I pray, 
 Amid that Festival of State ? — 
 Each bounded in the bosom of its Mate, . . 
 
BOOK VIII. 
 
 FESTAL SCENES. 347 
 
 And quicker far than all the flying Train 
 Of Bacchantes. And your eyes ? — Beatified ! -- 
 For, what they looked upon did mix with pain 
 More bliss, at ev'ry dart, 
 ■ Than if, to joy them, all th' Olympian Race 
 Had lighted on the Place, 
 
 Moving, harmonious, to Apollo's lyre I — 
 Yet none that in the Dance had play'd a part, 
 So swiftly shot from Cupid's winged chace, 
 As did Matilda's eye retire 
 
 From his, . . keen-pointing still its perilous fire :- 
 Anon, with rash return, her glances drew 
 Tow'rd the bright bane — surpriz'd, as often, flew. 
 So have I seen, amid the secret shade, 
 
 Some tender birdling, by resistless doom 
 Within the serpent's influence betray'd : 
 
 Ere yet the certain Fate was come, 
 
 Hoping escape, it snatch'd a look 
 From off the foe, . . and round him, sore afraid, 
 Flitted, with agonizing cries, 
 While ev'ry ruffled feather shook 
 With terrors wild. Each moment more dismay 'd, 
 See how the litde Victim tries, 
 And struggles, to redeem its captive eyes ! — 
 But, all, their circles, narrow 'd more and more, 
 Still tow'rd the fascinating centre move ; 
 
348 FESTAL SCENES. 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 Till soon, - - the rays of vision caught 
 And twisted in those beam s, of shunless powV, - - 
 
 The snare is weav'd, and swallowing ruin sought 
 
 By the guil'd Innocent : — it drops it dies ! 
 
 Poor Maid ! The lot was thine, such risk to prove :- 
 Yet, surely, One, all-pure from ill 
 
 Tow'rd her his looks arrest, may catch not kill f 
 
 Beware, ye Nymphs ! The Basilisk is . . . Love ! 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Meantime, not Satan, in the World's dark hour, 
 Watch'd, with a glance of more unkindly powY, 
 The commerce of the heart, through silent eyes, 
 When the first Lovers pair'd in Paradise, 
 Than, Lusignan, didst thou ; — nor jealous ire 
 E'er brooded on revenge, more black, and deep, and dire f 
 
 END OF BOOK VIII. 
 
 
349 
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
 THE TERMINATION. 
 
 The waited Morn arrives, . . . proclaim'd afar, 
 'Mid the stern show of simulated War. — 
 All are afield — Knight, - - Buckler-bearing Squire, - - 
 Crown'd Heroes, - - Dames, that with a look inspire 
 Force to the frame, and to the heart set fire : — 
 
 When, lo ! a mounted Warrior full in sight, 
 Whose eagerness out-wing'd his panting flight. 
 Ere yet he reach'd the Plain, his cry was come. 
 A solemn charge he bare, - - and this the sum : 
 Yon Tyrian Pontiff, HeavVs Ambassador, 
 Hears grievingly of arms, ere Truce be o'er : — 
 Let Pagans murder on a listed plain — 
 But shall the Christian revel in their Train ? - - 
 For vanity, thus pawn his vital breath, 
 And flourish at a Festival of Death ? — 
 Lay down your arms ! The darkest frown of Heav'n 
 Condemns the lance, . . . for sacred warfare giv'n. — 
 
350 THE TERMINATION. book ix. 
 
 A meaner tongue his warning thus addrest : — 
 From the Sire's trepid hand, receive the rest : 
 " For me, - - I have not shrunk from toil, or pain, 
 In my commission to redeem a soul 
 From Pagan Darkness. Let the Morning gather 
 Christians, and Saracens. Then, rev'rent hear 
 A sentence, by Religion sanctified.'" 
 
 II. 
 
 All stood confounded : — Yea, the haughty soul 
 Of Richard, yielded to that strong control. 
 The Torneament, in laboring to be born, 
 Expir'd, - - and all, obedient, stayed for Morn. 
 
 It came. Again th' Assemblage filTd the ground : — 
 E'en such the whisper'd murmurs heard around, 
 As when Judea's congregated Throng, 
 Of yore, in awful expectation hung, 
 What time they knew, by voice, or sacred sign, 
 Tli' approach of some high Messenger divine. 
 
 At length, by helpful hands conducted slow, 
 Advanced yon holy Patriarch. Bending low 
 Under the venerable weight of Years, 
 While care, and grief, and dark-surmising fears, 
 
 Hung widi yet heavier load, long mute he stood, 
 
 And mournful. — From the Donor of all good 
 
book i\. THE TERMINATION. 351 
 
 He crav'd die steady limb - - die word of powV : — 
 For, die meek Friend of Peace, in hapless hour, 
 Must make a trumpet of his tongue, and blow 
 A blast of Lamentation, War, and Woe ! — 
 New force, and firmness, at his pray'r awoke, . . 
 And, as in youth, up-standing, thus he spoke : 
 
 III. 
 
 u Chiefs of the Crescent, and the Cross ! Erewhile 
 I parted hence, in the glad hope to send 
 Through Hadel's heart, the Gospel's glorious beam. 
 How zealously I did my task, — how oft, 
 Returning from repulse, again I stroye, — 
 Himself can tell : — but Error won the Day ! 
 
 To seal with holy rite, and priestly blessing, 
 The spousals proffer* d as a bond of Peace, 
 Were sacrilege. Yon Christian Maid between, 
 And Mahoun's Champion, - - Marriage may not be F 1 
 
 Then, turning tow'rd the Chief he longs to save, - - 
 " Prince ! In Messiah's Name, once more I call ! — 
 With solemn disputation, Faith to Faith, 
 In secret, or in open conference, — 
 GOD for our Judge,— contend we o'er again H 
 
 IV. 
 
 He spake not : — but the proud-repelling sway 
 Of his rear'd arm, for ever cast away 
 
35% THE TERMINATION. book ix. 
 
 Th' impossible condition.— At the sign, 
 
 Accepted like an Oracle divine, 
 
 The Briton started forth : — " No more J No more ! — 
 
 The nature, and the name, of league, or love, 
 
 Are nullities. Our Faith's Interpreter 
 
 Hath spoken : — honoured be the voice of Heav'n !" — 
 
 Rous'd Love, and inextinguishable ire, 
 Broke out, and spread, in one devouring fire, 
 Through HadeTs heart. Yet, calm, in outward shew, 
 As Nature never taught his breast to glow, 
 Tow'rd each Arabian Warrior turn'd the Chief, 
 With glance imperative, and gesture brief,— 
 Then, scorning once to know, by sign, or sound, 
 The Lords of Christendom, - - slow-moving round, 
 March'd like a God away. — Those flames that burn, . . 
 Yet burst not yet, . . augur his fell return ! 
 
 V. 
 
 Less continent of Passion's fervent heat, 
 Richard high-triumph'd in the Foe's defeat. — 
 
 Oblivious of that soft-subduing Pow'r, 
 Whose frown can kill, - - anon he sought the tow'r, 
 Where in drear solitude Matilda sate, 
 PondVing the heavy cloud o'erhung by Fate. — 
 Lord of her hand, and reckless of her heart, 
 He spake, and, speaking, loos'd a double dart : — 
 
 
book ix. THE TERMINATION. 353 
 
 " Hadel resigns thee, Maid ! — Once more thine own, 
 Give Lusignan to fill the vacant throne." 
 
 Long mute, at length she turn'd where yet he stood, 
 
 With rein'd impatience waiting on her mood. — 
 Her Spirit, brmVd with sufTring, us'd the tone 
 Of patient sorrow', and sounds were heard to moan, 
 As from a speaking lute. Those plaints among, 
 One Name, from the heart 'scap'd not to the tongue : — 
 
 But, Lusignan ! On him she pour'd a stream 
 
 Of eloquence, that overwhelm'd its theme, — 
 From his dark path, still had she look'd aside, 
 In charity : — But, when his climbing pride 
 Would call the Sister of great Richard . . Bride, 
 And, spoiling her of love^ and hope, and joy, 
 
 Wield the fair torch of Hymen, to destroy, 
 
 So featur'd from the life his mind she drew, 
 
 (Though hiding half the shades her pencil knew,) 
 
 Richard, a moment starting, seem'd to see 
 
 The Monster in his own deformity. — 
 
 But he had lock'd his heart from Richard's eye ; — 
 
 Nor could the lofty Hero stoop to pry 
 
 Through glozing craft, . . or e'en conceive a lie. 
 
 Marking determination graven deep 
 In that imperial front, — as wak'd from sleep, 
 The Princess to her Monarch shew'd a soul 
 Proof, like his own, to tyrannous control, 
 
 A A 
 
354 THE TERMINATION. book 
 
 And, . . Woman, still, in gentleness, and grace, . . 
 With calm refusal, motion'd from the place. — 
 His hand retains her. Ire is in his mien ; — 
 But, while a Brother's Nature works within, 
 His kindred Spirit lauds the latent Queen. 
 
 Anon, regarding, with Affection's eye, 
 The brow, that strives to hide heart-misery, 
 And, clasping the sweet form his mother bare, 
 He soothes, . . he cheers, . . he lifts her from despair, — 
 Takes her full-streaming love, and leaves her soul to prayV. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Pray'r came not soon : — her Spirit's lab'ring flight, 
 Sustain'd so long, was flagging from its height. — 
 She mus'd — then question'd with her heart, alone : 
 " My Peace, - - my Hopes on Earth, - - Farewell for ever I — 
 Heav'n be my Rest ! — My rest ? — Can rest be mine, 
 Where no seat is for him - - my Lov'd - - my Lost ! — 
 Nay . . lost but to Matilda's wishes, here, — 
 
 Not, blest Redeemer, . . . O not lost to thee ! 
 
 Not, if this bending body, . . . these clasp'd hands, . . . 
 May plead for him ; — not, if my suppliant cry, 
 Ringing Salvation in his ear once more, 
 May pierce him, . . till he bow before thy Name !" 
 
 
1300K IX. 
 
 THE TERMINATION. 355 
 
 VII. 
 
 Haste, Virgin ! ere, from Ptolemais' wall 
 Indignant fled, he disappoint thy call. — 
 
 Her trusty Courier flew. The mounted Chief 
 With ardent eye ran o'er the precious brief: 
 " This night remain : — Matild, at early morn, 
 Expects thee ere thy parting. ,, — As new-born 
 To life and hope, the Lover, in reply, 
 Mark'd his obedience — veiTd his ecstacy . — 
 
 Meantime the Vestal, to Religion true, 
 On holy Wilhelm bent her duteous view : — 
 He, . . gifted to supply her feebler song, 
 Shall sound celestial Truth with apostolic tongue. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 While o'er his heart Compassion held her sway, 
 The Briton, . . still revolting from delay, . . 
 His Messenger hath sped. — Erelong, behold, 
 High-aiming Lusignan ! thy fate full-told : 
 Nor, in the telling, tenderness and care 
 Were minister^; — the speech was blunt and bare. 
 On Richard's ear Matilda's record hung ; — 
 Surmises, in a crowd, came rushing strong. 
 BarVd words were on the wing — but search profound 
 Must follow, ere he launch the deadly sound : — 
 
356 THE TERMINATION. 
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
 Then, woe for Lusignan ! — Yea, now begun, 
 
 His trouble waits not for another Sun ; 
 
 The rage that in his breast began to swell 
 
 At Richard, on a softer Victim fell : 
 
 " Where, where, to strike, that she may feel the dart 
 
 As dipp'd in venom ? — Through her Pagan? s heart ! 
 
 And darkly, - - that the certain stroke may prove 
 
 What destinies are his, who thwarts my love." — 
 
 And is it thus ? — Meseems, that haughty Name 
 In fairer field should arrogate the Dame ? — 
 Nay, - - hardiment and prowess, well he knew, 
 (Though many a stalwart knight before him flew,) 
 Were idle here : — the leopard safe defies 
 The lynx, - - but if he dare the Lion, dies ! 
 
 IX. 
 
 Revenge hath hurried him upon his way, 
 Lest meddling Conscience wake. — At shut of day, 
 A Friend, that never fail'dhis need through all 
 Obliquity, hath heard the secret call. — 
 Black bus'ness wants him now ! — By nice degrees, 
 Yon Archimage, with subtly-smiling ease, 
 Hath felt, through ev'ry nook and latent fold, 
 The heart of Hubert, . . ere his tongue be bold 
 
 To breathe its errand. —Inquisition past, 
 
 On the dark purpose he dares touch at last : — 
 
book ix. THE TERMINATION. 357 
 
 LUSIGNAN. 
 
 " Hubert ! - - I know thee steady to the Cross, 
 Through bale, or blessing. — What if mortal Wight, 
 How fanVd soever, should by practice deal 
 To mar its triumph ; — could'st thou smile upon him ? — 
 Pardon i — I did but play the Doubter ; else, 
 Those honest flashes from thine eye, at once 
 
 Had struck suspicion dead. — Yes, One there lives 
 
 Ay, still he lives that works in this bad kind. — 
 
 Should Hadel be that Name, — what splendors, flung 
 Around his brow, could make him shine again ? — 
 And if grand Richard be the Sacrifice 
 Yon heathen hand would offer at the shrine 
 Of Mahoun, - - yea and offer at the hour 
 When Peace flow'd out in hospitality, - - 
 Were it not wondrous ? — Yet, such hour he chose 
 For mischief : — Me, with many a Christian more, 
 Then, . . and in secret since, . . th" accursed Foe 
 Hath tempted : — With low-murmur'd syllables, 
 By truth '(ay, thus he fables,) tortur'd from him, 
 On Richard he doth fasten thoughts unheard, 
 And horrible : — as thus : — 6 Ambition, twin'd 
 With serpent-envy, stings him to remove, 
 By foul delation, . . or means fouler still, . . 
 Each rival Chief in this your Holy War." — 
 Hubert ! thou hcarst his words, as / late heard. — 
 
358 THE TERMINATION. k< 
 
 Some — Ruin seize them ! — take with leaning ear 
 His conjurations, . . by demonian rage 
 Then hatched, when Christian Richard firm-denied 
 Yon Dame to his unsanctified embrace. 
 
 Thus hath he clear'd his way. The lurking Ruin 
 Now threatens, . . and he waits but for the morn 
 To let rebellion loose : — Ere blush of light, 
 A faithless Band he draws, — deep-sworn to shew 
 By letter'd proof, (he hath it forg'd, and ready,) 
 Bright Richard, leprosied with guilt and shame ! 
 
 Hubert, I pause : — Nay, give out all thy heat ! — 
 This Reprobate would rend our unity :— - 
 Shall Christians, rising at a signal, strike 
 At Christians, . . . while yon Pagan, and his Crew, 
 Laughing like hyens, watch the time to spring ? — 
 Shall our own weapons, in wild sacrilege, 
 Hack down the Cross, to make the Crescent room ? 
 Yes — Hadel wills it. — Breath, and patience, hold ! — 
 What vengeful hand shall massacre his hope 
 Of parting hence to-morrow ? — Hubert, speak !"— - 
 
 Hubert. 
 
 " Impalement, rack, or fire, were courtesy : — 
 But nether flames are blowing, . . like to reach 
 The height of our good hopes for him- — " 
 
book ix. THE TERMINATION. 359 
 
 LlJSIGNAN. 
 
 " And Earth 
 Not witness it ? . . nor plotting Knaves be warn'd 
 From their base trade ? — Myself had been th' Avenger ; — 
 
 But I do love, and woo, the Maid he loves, 
 
 And Justice might be branded . . Jealousy. — 
 Hubert ! Thou lov'st her not ?"— 
 
 Hubert. 
 
 "But love my life, . . 
 As thou dost fair Matild." — 
 
 Lusignan. 
 
 " Yea, love it still, - - 
 And I will make it pay thy constancy 
 With treasure past computing. — Glory, too ! — 
 Sav'd Christendom shall publish thee for this, 
 In monuments, of endless memory. — 
 I read thy stern resolve : — Nor Danger's face 
 (Wert thou the man to cast where Danger liej,) 
 Can threat thee : — Note his open chamber there ! — 
 Thine arm is iron, as thy heart is rock ! 
 
 And midnight-sleep turns easily to 
 
 Need I suggest thee further ?" — 
 
360 THE TERMINATION. . hook ix. 
 
 Hubert. 
 
 " Thou hast said, . . . 
 And I will do :— Fair Fortune guide my steel 
 Home to the mark ! — For thy rich promises. 
 My bounteous Lord, ... I have not found them fail ; — 
 Nor would'st thou, here, provoke my trusty tongue 
 To sound thy name abroad for perfidy ." 
 
 Lusignan. 
 
 " Thou know'st me well : — But, be thou dumb as Death, 
 From now — or, Death, full-paid, were all thy fee !" 
 
 X. 
 
 Hell-sent, with hideous courage, to his crime, 
 ArmM Hubert counts the leaden pulse of time — 
 
 Not idly, fining, and re-fining, still, 
 
 The chosen blade's tried faculty to kill. 
 
 At the drear dead of Night, a Form I see, . . 
 With noiseless foot, shrunk form, and yielded knee, . . 
 Black with premeditated Murder, crawl 
 Up the blind stair, by many a curving wall, 
 Till, now, his dagger'd hand hath felt the way 
 To yon still chamber, . . well-explor'd by day. — 
 
 Profoundly slumbering the great Victim lies, 
 
 Unguarded by the terror of those eyes [ '' 
 
hook ix. THE TERMINATION. 361 
 
 That, once, had fiVd a tiger as he came, 
 
 And turn'd to flight before the with'ring flame. — 
 
 Arriv'd, like some foul Spectre from the tomb, - - 
 He glides, in wild'ring doubt, o'er the blank room, . . . 
 Deep-buried in a cloud of circumvolving gloom. 
 
 XL , 
 
 He wander'd long, — till the Moon's horn, at last, 
 One sullen, glimmering, beam, obscurely cast 
 
 On the doomed Object. — Nerveless, Hubert stood 
 
 Taught by the chill, felt curdling all his blood, 
 'Twere easier to assail, in open strife, 
 A legion clothed in brass, . . than tempt the life 
 Of Hadel, naked-sleeping ! , 
 
 Dark Design, 
 
 And hostile Chance, in one fell bond combine. — 
 Fierce was the heat : — Unconscious as he lay, 
 The Chief had spurn'd his cov'ring folds away, 
 And, thrown supine, with ev'ry limb at rest, 
 Presented to the dirk his broad, bare, breast. 
 Nearer, . . and nearer yet, . . th' Invader stole, 
 While Guilt shot Horror through his fainting soul — 
 Oft aim'd the felon-point, - - then dropp'd anew — 
 Retir'd — return'd ; — froze . . kindled . . at the view ! — 
 " Matilda !" — "Tis the dreaming Lover's cry : — 
 In words unsounded, Murder makes reply, . . 
 " She lives for Lusignan ! — Thou, Pagan, die . r — 
 
362 THE TERMINATION. hook 
 
 His Devil stirs within him, . . and his hand, 
 Up-flying, grapples to the downward brand. — 
 No more ! — Let Story write the damning deed ; 
 Nor task the moaning Muse to see her Hero bleed ! 
 
 XII. 
 
 Wild, between haste, and fear . . . the Ruffian's art 
 Forsook him, - - and he miss'd the mighty heart — 
 Strook once: — But, for the wealth of Land and Main 
 In one bright Mountain pil'd, . . he would not strike again ! 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Rous'd into life, e'en by the dart of Death, 
 The Warrior leaps erect, . . and, in a breath, 
 His mortal spear firm-seizing where it lay, 
 Hath hurl'd it. — As the Villain slank away, 
 The point o'ertook him - - tore, with rav'nous bite, 
 Through helm, and head, - - affixing, firm and tight, 
 Against the rocky wall, yon Fiend of Night ! 
 Deep-stands the rooted Wood, . . in ev'ry grain 
 Strong-quiv'ring, as it ne'er would rest again. — 
 The Hero, conscious of his call to die, 
 
 Had summon'd his whole frame's whole energy, 
 
 Nor, though he mov'd in darkness, yet gave way, — 
 Thrice falling, rising thrice, upon his Prey 
 Sprang, Lion-like, — one giddy moment stood, — 
 Then sank (no more to rise !) in his own purple flood ! 
 
book ix. THE TERMINATION. 363 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Abdallah, ., whose Ambition found its end 
 In one renowning title,-- " Hadel's Friend," 
 Found what a blast had struck that glorious name, 
 When, duly, with returning Morn he came ! — 
 
 At length, ... as 'twere a Statue touch'd with sense, 
 To send abroad some drear intelligence, . . . 
 His raging grief out-burst into a cry 
 So dire, - - so big with wild calamity, - - 
 Whole Acra's Life, — the Lofty, and the Mean, — 
 Took Horror, . . and flew diverse tow'rd the Scene. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Yon Pagans pause, ere yet the Furies find 
 Admission, — staring in such ghastly kind, 
 As HeavVs judicial Ministers of woe 
 Threaten'd the shaken World with gen'ral overthrow ! 
 
 XVI. 
 
 In Richard's thought, Suspicion, yestermorn, 
 Conceiv'd, — and, on the sudden, Proof is born. 
 He visits the dread Room : — Before his eyes 
 Lo, Hubert, . . a fresh-bleeding Sacrifice ! — 
 " Last eve, I mark'd the Caitiff, whisp'ring long 
 With Lusignan : — Ha ! — Blood was on their tongue F 
 He said — and Vengeance o'er tlf Offender hung. 
 
364 THE TERMINATION. book ixi 
 
 Worker in darkness, - - hiding, like the snake, 
 In thine own wily machinations, - - quake !- — 
 Richard is after thee, . . and, ere he sleep, 
 Shall search thee out through each close winding deep. 
 Hark ! — 'Tis thy summons ! — Wear the vizard now, - - 
 Or trust, for safety, to that brazen brow ! — 
 
 All-unadvised, yet, of Hubert's doom, 
 At Cceur-de-lion's call, behold him come. — 
 Forbidding his intestine fire to rise, 
 (Thrice harder than a thousand victories,) 
 
 The Hero fronts him full : 
 
 " Hadel is dead by murder :" — With the word, 
 
 His eye ran through the Culprit like a sword : — 
 
 " What bloody Coward struck with Hubert's hand ?" — 
 
 The tongue forgets to move, the knee to stand — 
 The visage whitens — the pulse fails for dread — 
 The Wretch, as by judicial thunder sped, 
 Before his great Accuser drops for dead ! 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Self-sentenc'd where he lay, . . the lifted steel 
 In evVy Pagan hand contends to deal 
 Prompt retribution ; — but with swifter wing 
 Preventing them, I see the Briton spring : — 
 " Hold, rash Avengers ! — Death were Mercy, here, 
 Not Justice : — Mark, - - and I will make you bless me 
 
THE TERMINATION. 365 
 
 For saving him alive. — Behold, 
 Proof to the siege of Time, yon sturdy TowY 
 Under the solid base, . . far deeper down 
 Than the Pile's height, . . a stony den retires, - 
 Fit lodge for deadly-lurking Guest ! 
 
 In that grim Hermitage, . . till Death, at last, 
 Overtake him, . . lies foul-spotted Lusignan." 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 The Dungeon frowns for him ! — He goes . . to find 
 
 Whate'er falls heaviest on Man's mourning kind 
 
 The stinted water-cup — the dole of bread — 
 The dark, profound, oblivion of the Dead, — 
 Yet still to live, - - still wearily to score 
 One wretched, ling'ring, dismal, minute more — 
 The strengthless, aching, Skeleton, faint-flung 
 (Reposing never !) slimy damps among, . . 
 
 That raise, in vain, the drear, last hope, to die, 
 
 Loath'd crawling creatures all his Company — 
 The Mind's dread famine — the hands unemploy'd — 
 
 No sight, no sound, to fill the craving void, 
 
 One sound except, . . at ev'ry start of pain 
 Heard in the clank of his perpetual chain — 
 Behind, - - remembered crimes ; or joys for ever past — 
 And Misery seen before, still faithful to the last. 
 
366 THE TERMINATION. book ix. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Proud Lusignan ! . . . thy Walk with Men is o^er. 
 The gladdening Sun, - - when yon remorseless Door 
 Hath shut thee down, - - shall bless thy sight no more. — 
 
 While months, and rolling years, have changM the face 
 Of many a Land, and swept off many a Race, . . . 
 
 In his forgotten Cell what changes ? — None 
 
 Save that his woes wring forth a hollower groan ! — 
 Ambition, once, and Lust, and vengeful Ire, 
 Transported him, and from his eye struck fire : — 
 
 Look on him now ! 
 
 Despair, . . that only with himself can die, . . 
 Dwells in the cave of that cadaverous eye — * 
 
 Harrowing Despair, . . . not bounded by the Tomb, 
 But black with dreams of everlasting Doom.— 
 He knows no Time : — Long left a pining prey 
 To Griefs, . . till worn, and wither'd, quite away, 
 In lonely, moping, motionless dismay, 
 Down-sunk he sits, . . a desolated Ghost,-— 
 Under the crushing wreck of his own ruins lost ! 
 
 XX. 
 
 Lost? — Who dare fix his fate? — Hands, dropping blood, 
 Have been held up, till Mercy cleans'd the flood. 
 
book ix. THE TERMINATION. 36? 
 
 Wake, Sinner ! — One, above, may press thy plea : — 
 
 Wake, Sinner ! evYy Nail was driv'n for thee ! — 
 
 Look up ! — Believe thy horrid leisure giv'n 
 
 For good thy darkness, to draw light from Heav'n. — 
 
 Thy pinching wants, to starve thy bloated Pride — 
 Thy pains, . . by Sorrow to be sanctified — 
 Thy sufF 'rings all, in stern compassion sent, 
 Full-stor'd with purgatory punishment. — 
 So, make thy Pris'n a Church ! — Oh turn contrite, 
 And weep down scalding Torrents ! — Day and Night 
 Found prostrate, -- still contend for pardon, There, 
 With yearning agonies of penitential pray'r ! 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Hadel is breathing still : — That ruthless blow 
 Permits the blood with languid course to flow : 
 But, motion, . . will, — yea very Love, now fled, — 
 He floats between the Living, and the Dead. 
 
 " Declare his fate !" a throng of Tremblers cry 
 Through the long day. — Whate'er may Hope reply, 
 Th' astounding verdict falls at last — " To die !" 
 
 XXIT. 
 
 The Briton, true to Nature's noblest law, 
 In Hadel, but a mortal Hero saw 
 
368 THE TERMINATION. book ix. 
 
 An Enemy no more. — With folded hands, 
 O'er Death's great Victim Cceur-de-lion stands ; — 
 Till, soon, came o'er him sympathy more strong 
 For lost Matilda. — Pond'ring, deep and long, 
 Her pangs to come, . . he fears, himself, to throw 
 With all too rude a force the dart of woe 
 At that soft breast : — a Mother's tender heed 
 Should guide th' unwilling hand that makes it bleed. 
 
 Her ghostly Father, . . gentle, sage, and holy 
 To Him hath fal'n that service melancholy. — 
 But rumour had abus'd his ear, and told 
 Of death, ere yet the dying heart was cold. — 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 It seem'd some Guardian of the Good, 
 
 Selected from the gentle Spirits above 
 
 To do the mournful ministries of love, 
 
 Before Matilda stood. 
 
 With steady brow, . . but with a melting eye, 
 
 He paus'd ; while, from within, Devotion pray'd, . . 
 Lest, in this dire extremity, 
 
 Grief gather, ere the time, yon lovely Flow'r.— 
 
 With many a piteous preparation made, 
 And many a cited word, of sacred pow'r, 
 
 Her Comforter his heavy tale hath said. — 
 
 She heard, . . . nor vented voice, or moan 
 
 Each vital breath e'en to herself unknown : — 
 
book ix. THE TERMINATION. 369 
 
 Such was the figure, . . such the look, 
 
 And the dark, deathly hue, . . 
 It seem'd as lightning subtly strook, 
 
 And the freed Spirit, when it flew, 
 
 Had left th' unmutilated members all 
 A moment standing, ere their lifeless fall ! — • 
 E'en to that hour, Hope sent a wav'ring gleam 
 
 Through the dank mists of doubt, and dread, and care ; — 
 Yet had she blest that miserable beam . . . 
 
 Now quench'd for ever in thy gulf, Despair ! 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Deep in her passive spirit sank the gloom, . . . 
 Symbol, at once, and warning, of the tomb ! 
 Recorded stood her sentence ... to depart ; 
 And Death's chill touch was felt upon her heart ! 
 
 Nature, alarm'd at the last awful call, 
 Shook to her centre : — but, one qualm was alt. 
 Solemn delight succeeded :■ — the dim shade, 
 O'er Earth's vain, perishable, prospects laid, 
 But heighten'd the rich glories of the Sky . . 
 Op'ning, and still bright-op'ning, on her eye. 
 (Ah, soon may Sorrow point her darts again, 
 And pierce, . . till ev'ry vital nerve complain !) 
 
#70 THE TERMINATION. book ix. 
 
 The Virgin, rising from her overthrow, 
 Vents recollected Reason in a flow 
 Of pray'rs, for him that gave her life-destroying blow ! 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Richard, . . expecting till that ordeal-hour 
 Pass over, finds her solitary bow'r. — 
 Fresh tears ! - - For, he must part — must leave the Maid 
 In lone Affliction's overwhelming shade. — 
 Yon bark hath brought the summons, - - and delay 
 Mads him, till o'er the main he haste away : — 
 " Matild ! I go, . . and strive with my desire 
 To bear thee with me on my bounding road : — 
 But Anger blows me hence ; — our fairest Isle 
 Must ring with arms, and swim with kindred-blood. — I 
 From rough'ning scenes like these, my lov'd Matild, 
 I spare thy gentle softness, . . all too long 
 Frighted with roaring battle. — Here, awhile, 
 Sweet-fellow'd with a friend, - - thy lov'd Lennore, - - 
 Sit calmly : — Peace, before another morn, I 
 
 Shall greet thine ear, and bid thee smile again. — 
 Peace, too, at home, (when I have made the sword 
 My sceptre,) shall erelong allow your flight, 
 At my fond call. — Then, if our Galaxy 
 Of Knights, and Nobles, glitter with a Name 
 
book ix. THE TERMINATION. 371 
 
 To peer thine own, - - this many-courted hand 
 May bless a Christian Lord : — nay, ponder it : — 
 Fair goods, and graces, were not gWn to feast 
 Their lone Possessor. Woman, made of Man, 
 To Man belongs ; and if high Worthiness 
 Kneel for its own, — Justice, - - yea very Nature, - - 
 Forbid cold, barren, self-monopoly. 
 
 Meantime, I leave thy beauties guarded strong— 
 Thy soul, defended by the sacred shield 
 Of Wilhelm, . . with a Camp of Angels round,"" 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Sick at the soul, she thank'd his idle care, 
 Nor shew'd the Worm of Sorrow feeding there, - - 
 The visions of delight, for ever fled, - - 
 The stagnant spirits, and the heart of lead : — 
 But, Love ! — Another Love ! — Her lifeless eye, . . . 
 Her head, sad-falling, . . . past all words reply ! 
 
 At length, with false composure, . . " Health, and Heav'n, 
 Consenting, — When thy distant call shall come, 
 I will obey ; — but, other vows to breathe, . . 
 Far other homage yield, . . than Man may claim. 
 If God shall speed my course, - - Ah ! once again 
 Restore me to yon House of holy rest, 
 Where I have left my peace, . . and, rashly blind, 
 Far-wander'd through a world of pains and perils, 
 Besetting body and soul, to seek the good 
 
372 THE TERMINATION. book ix. 
 
 I held in blest possession. — Gracious Richard ! 
 I take this promise from thy tender hand, — 
 And let thee leave me now : — my failing Spirit 
 Needs comfort from above, and in the calm 
 Of silent meditation would repose." 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 " God hear, and help thee, Sweet f — So pray'd in brief, . . 
 And rusfrd upon a ruder care, the Chief. 
 To Council, at his call, the Warriors fly. — 
 Attention waits. — The glowing words are nigh : — 
 " My Compeers of the Cross, - - Hear, and be just ! — 
 Rebellion, like a serpent, waiting close 
 For my wisfrd absence, hath dar'd rear his head, . . 
 Yea, seiz'd the Seat of my proud Empery. — 
 Ye that have thrones afar, need none to tell 
 Where I would be : — Yet, here I vow to keep, 
 Leaving my sceptre in a Robber's hand, 
 If I be wanted still. — Now, hear me more ; 
 Unpassion'd hear. My soul disdains to fear 
 Lest wary craft, or grov'ling self-regards, 
 May seem to rule me, while my tongue goes on 
 To speak for Peace. — Peace with the Foes of Heav'n ? — 
 Nay — Peace with Plague, and Famine, - - menacing 
 Those Legions that have mock'd at Sword and Spear. — 
 But, Hunger, join'd with wasting Pestilence, 
 Might ravage, . . . yet no Peace be ratified 
 
 
BOOK IX. 
 
 THE TERMINATION. 373 
 
 By Richard, save on terms, and 'vantages, 
 Whose grant should vie with glorious Victory. — 
 Such will I name : — nor doubt the prompt accord 
 
 Of Saladine, himself, with all his Host, 
 
 Laid prostrate by their noble Champion's fall. 
 
 Be these our laws of Peace : — The Syrian shore, 
 With ev'ry Strength, and Fastness -- Tow'r, and Town, 
 From Joppa, South, to Northern Tyre, for aye 
 Shall yield them to the Cross, — (thus op'ning wide 
 All Palestine before the pious feet 
 Of Pilgrims,) — nor the Crescent bar their way 
 To Salem, and her hallow'd Haunts divine. — 
 
 Ourselves be bound, in turn, to tread their soil 
 With hostile pace no more, — God's hour attending 
 For that possession, final, full, and sure, 
 Loud-promis'd by the voice of Prophets old. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 He spake not to the Deaf. The Christians, late, 
 Had fear'd, and soon should feel, their threatened Fate, — 
 Famine, and Pest, in combination dire : — 
 Yet none, save Cceur-de-lion, dar'd require 
 That war should end. — Applaudments loud, and long, 
 Ensued, - - and Peace filPd. up th' accordant song. — 
 
 " Arrest the hour ! To Saladine repair T' 
 Cried Richard ; — and an Embassage is there. 
 
374 THE TERMINATION. hook ix. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Hurl'd from his Height, and found'ring in deep woe, 
 
 The Soldan rous'd his ear, then murmur'd, slow, 
 
 " Hadel yet lives." — There paus'd the sad reply : — 
 
 At last, with desperation in his eye, . . . 
 
 " The terms ye bring, are yielded if he die." — 
 
 Return'd, ere yet the Council rise, - - behold, 
 The Delegates their welcome tale have told. — 
 What follows ? — When great Hadel breathes no more, — 
 Yon Host, before the wind, shall seek their natal shore. 
 
 XXX 
 
 One desolated Mourner may not move, 
 Bound by the chains of Sorrow, Sickness — Love. — 
 Bur hark ! — Abdallah's tone, with startling sound, 
 Hath rais'd her from Affliction's dark profound. 
 
 Matilda. 
 " What Spirit beckons from that boding brow ?" — 
 
 Abdallah. 
 
 " A parting Spirit, that delays its flight 
 From Earth to Paradise, till, yet once more, 
 It mingle with thy Spirit : — Hadel calls, •-- 
 
 
book ix. THE TERMINATION. 375 
 
 Who cannot yield his breath, till it may leave 
 A last farewell with her for whom he lingers, 
 Nor close his eyes, till they repose on thine." 
 
 Matilda. 
 
 Alive ! - - Alive ! - - while I have mourn'd him, lost !— 
 Lord ! Lord ! . . and is there guilt in my desire 
 To seek him now fV 
 
 While, yet, as fix'd to hear, 
 
 Matilda stood, in doubt, and holy fear, - - 
 With friendly force the warrior's arm convey'd, 
 And rested in his car, yon reckless Maid : — 
 
 Matilda. 
 
 " Where am I ? — Whither is my reason whirl'd ! — 
 Father divine ! In this confounding hour 
 Uphold me ! . . in this hour of agony ! — 
 Blest God ! If thou hast charitable Spirits 
 On messages of mercy', and fraught with light 
 For them that walk in darkness, — hear my pray'r ! 
 My Christian pray'r ! — To yon expiring Pagan, 
 Who oft hath flown into the jaws of death, 
 That / might live to him direct them now !" — 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Her moment comes. — The Chariot moves no more. 
 Borne on, she moves through yonder dreadful door, - 
 
376 THE TERMINATION. 
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
 Warn'd by her piteous Guide, who leads the way, 
 Of Death, . . already stamp'd upon the clay 
 That once was Hadel ! — But, nor warning strong, 
 Nor frighted Fancy, citing up a throng 
 Of ghastly Shadows, could the soul prepare, 
 Or picture what her eyes encountered there !— 
 
 Caird back to life at last, - - with gradual view 
 She dar'd look on. — By Love, and Love alone, 
 Through ev'ry mortal change could now be known 
 That Form. — Alike, the Chief, - - whose ev'ry sense, 
 And ev'ry pow'r, to Death's omnipotence 
 
 Had yielded fast, . . forgetting light, and sound, 
 
 Matilda's form beheld — Matilda's accent found ! 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 But, when she strove in vain that voice to hear, 
 
 That, once, was more than music to her ear, 
 
 Whose very breathings had a soul, made known 
 
 By Love's delicious magic to her own, 
 
 Save Mis'ry, . . nothing gave its image true ; 
 
 And Earth, and Heav'n, were blotted from her view. 
 
 Not long : — The deaden'd heart, restor'd to cheer, 
 
 Wakes to a vital, solemn, service here, 
 
 A task, to clear her from the stain of Love, . . 
 And gain, for Him, an Heritage above. — 
 
book ix. THE TERMINATION. 377 
 
 She found lost Hope again, - - and, at the sign, 
 Inhaling Inspiration's air divine, 
 Down o^r the dying Unbeliever hung. 
 Her look was light from Heav'n, while thus she sung: — 
 " Matilda speaks to thee once more ! ... to him, 
 Whose name, in this momentous hour, she dares not 
 Trust her frail tongue to speak. By all the love 
 Thy heart for me hath known, - - my soul for thine, - - 
 I do adjure thee, hear and heed me now !" 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 As if an Angel calPd him from the Dead, 
 He lent his ear, . . he bow'd his languent head. 
 
 Matilda. 
 
 " O thou, for whom the fondness I have bosom'd 
 
 Threats condemnation, — help me to appease 
 
 The God . . . whom thou hast made me to offend !- 
 
 Blessings upon thee, Hadel ! for, that signal 
 
 Hath granted thy Matilda the rich hope 
 To gain eternal bliss in Heav'n for Thee ! — 
 Heav'n is my theme : — Alas ! it would encumber 
 Thy feebleness, and speed thy parting Spirit, . . . 
 
378 THE TERMINATION. book tei 
 
 Or I had pour'd upon r thee a full flood 
 
 Of living waters, — from the Book divine, 
 
 Had shewn thee Truth, - - shewn Him who chose to die 
 
 Upon his Tree of Torment, for th" endeavour 
 
 To save his Murd'rers from eternal Fire !-— 
 
 Yet thus, in brief, I speak : — O ponder, yet, 
 
 With humbled heart, — with recollected soul, — 
 
 Those proofs, by Saint rever'd, - - by Fiend confest, - - 
 
 Which, from these lips, thou still hast heard in vain — 
 
 Proofs . . of a Faith, made all of Miracles I 
 
 And, for thine own poor, perishable, Creed, 
 
 Open thy mem'ry : — Make it bring the time 
 
 When both escaped yon dismal Wood, . . misnam'd 
 
 ' The Wood or Demons'* — Demons, by the record 
 
 Of some false Imaum, there in wait for Thee. 
 
 Recal how oft, attesting Saints and Angels, 
 
 I shew'd thy Prophet, issuing from his Cave, 
 
 Self-mission'd, - - self-instructed in all guile, - - 
 
 Bloody with Tyrant-Rage, - - rank-blown with Pride. — 
 
 Now, ... in the glorious light of Truth behold 
 
 That Prophet, Who, at last, shall sentence thine : — 
 
 On Him repose my Faith, and Hope, and Joy. — 
 
 O ! have I touch'd thee ? — Wilt thou . . . nay thou wilt not . . 
 
 Spurn this Belief the more abhorrently, 
 
 Because Matilda hangs, and feeds, upon it ! — 
 
ook ix. THE TERMINATION. 379 
 
 But, peace ! — God calls for thee ! — Up-send thy soul 
 In fervent aspiration ! — Seek to know 
 If I have truly told The Saving Name ! — 
 
 Promise but this, with look, or lightest motion, 
 
 / promise more — Thou shalt be heard, — be answer'd ' — 
 Then let Confession's holy flame arise 
 From th" 1 altar of thy heart ! — It shall reach Heav'n, - - 
 And, through perpetual Time, we part no more I'' 1 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 She ended catching, as he faiTd of breath, 
 
 At sign, or sound. At once, with brighten'd eye, 
 And signifying hand, his love 
 Token'd assent. — The Saints above 
 In tender pity hear from high, 
 While her faint speech implores the Lord of Death 
 
 Not yet his blinded Spirit to remove 
 
 That she may call him Christian, ere it fly ! — 
 All orisons, - - each pious energy, -- 
 Through her Life's round of Adoration spread, 
 Seem in one burning prayV concentrated ! — 
 From hour to awful hour, 
 Fix'd o'er his form, I see the Vestal bend : — 
 Like the dry Desart thirsting for a showV, 
 She watches for the fateful end 
 
380 THE TERMINATION". book ix; 
 
 Of that long pause profound — 
 Without a break, without a sound, 
 From him, strong-Wring still upon his mortal bed ! 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Her doubts, . . her deadly terrors, . . are no more ! — 
 
 With smiling ravishment, he looks to Heav'n !— 
 Those earnest hands, that, rising o'er and o'er, 
 Would seem to pierce the sky, 
 
 And reach at the resplendent crown 
 Held o'er his head by Spirits of sanctity, 
 
 Tell of Atonement's PowV, by Faith made known, - - 
 Beatitude begun, and sin forgiv'n ! — 
 Not e'en by hopes divine, may Love be driv'n 
 
 From his true heart, . . Matilda's living throne : — 
 With glance ineffable, his eye, . . 
 Turned on his Treasure ere he fly, . . 
 
 On Earth, - - in Heav'n, - - demands her for his own. 
 
 Matild ! what voice may sing thine ecstasy ? — 
 
 Hadel redeemed ! — The light of Truth, full-thrown 
 On his dim vision, . . at her piercing cry ! — 
 Joy, - - strong as Grief, to stun the sense 
 It falls upon, - - released her from the pain 
 Of bliss, . . too dazzling, and too high, 
 For weak mortality. — 
 Kind hands have borne her from the scene, 
 Till Nature quell th" o'erpow'ring influence. — 
 
 
book ix. THE TERMINATION. 381 
 
 Waking, as in the Realms of endless Day, 
 
 . Anon, from all around she turns away 
 In .troubled wild surprize, . . . 
 
 With silent signal craving to be borne, 
 Where, in yon chamber, darkling, and forlorn, 
 He that in her had liv'd, by her forsaken, dies ! 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Dropping the damps of Death at eVry pore, 
 He welcomes that returning Form once more. — 
 O ! from such love, as from a sacred well, 
 
 Diviner delectations o'er the bound 
 Of sublunary passion swell ! — 
 
 Hark ! — She speaks, with dying sound ! — 
 
 " Lord ! Keep in his regenerate soul the flame 
 Bright-kindled there . . . till, in Messiah's Name, 
 He rise, — for ever in thy Courts to dwell 1" 
 The voice to Heav'n ascended clear — 
 That voice which never more saluted mortal ear ! 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 How sacred is departing Love's embrace ! — 
 Yea, sweet, as when the Cherubs dart delight 
 With mystic inter-change of sight, 
 
 Is the long look, beaming from face to face, 
 
 When They that have run out the race 
 
 Of love in vain, together hope their flight, . . . 
 
THE TERMINATION. book ix. 
 
 And, welcoming the golden reign of bliss 
 
 That waits them, seal their first — last — hallo w'd Kiss ! — 
 
 O'er their quench'd eyes, the heavier lids fell slow : — 
 Some saintly Messenger forbade the flow 
 Of liquid life, in ev'ry pulse and vein, - - 
 Then, broke the bonds of Sorrow, Toil, and Pain. — 
 Sunk into rest, their Bodies breathe no more : — 
 Th' inseparable Souls to Heav'n triumphant soar ! 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 PRINTED BY J. ERETTELL, RUPERT STREET, HAYMARKET, LONDON. 
 
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