Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow-
It felt like the warning

Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me-
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,

Who knew thee too well:
Long, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met

In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee

After long years,

How should I greet thee?— With silence and tears.

?.... 1816.

THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS

A TURKISH TALE

"Had we never loved so kindly,

Had we never loved so blindly,

Never met or never parted,

We had ne'er been broken-hearted."-BURNS.

CANTO THE FIRST

KNOW ye the land where the cypress and myrtle

Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime?

Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,

Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime !

Know ye the land of the cedar and vine, Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine:

Where the light wings of Zephyr, op-. press'd with perfume,

Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gúl in her bloom;

Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit,

And the voice of the nigh is mute:

Where the tints of the e hues of the sky,

In color though varied, in vie,

And the purple of ocean dye;

Where the virgins are soft they twine,

And all, save the spirit of ma "T is the clime of the East: of the Sun

Can he smile on such deeds dren have done?

Oh! wild as the accents of well

Are the hearts which they b tales which they tell.

Begirt with many a gallant: Apparell'd as becomes the br Awaiting each his lord's beh To guide his steps, or guard] Old Giaffir sate in his Divan :

Deep thought was in his ag And though the face of Muss

Not oft betrays to standers The mind within, well skill'd All but unconquerable pride, His pensive cheek and ponde Did more than he was wont a

66 Let the chamber be clea train disappear'd.

"Now call me the chief of t guard."

With Giaffir is none but his on And the Nubian awaiting award.

"Haroun-when all the crowd Are pass'd beyond the outer ga (Woe to the head whose eye be My child Zuleika's face unveil Hence, lead my daughter f tower;

Her fate is fix'd this very hour: Yet not to her repeat my thoug By me alone be duty taught !"

"Pacha! to hear is to obey." No more must slave to despot sa Then to the tower had ta'en his But here young Selim silence bi

First lowly rendering reverenc And downcast look'd and gently Still standing at the Pacha's f For son of Moslem must expire, Ere dare to sit before his sire!

lactyl

Was she--the daughter of that rude old Chief,

Who met the maid with tears-but not of grief.

Who hath not proved how feebly words essay

To fix one spark of Beauty's heavenly ray?

Who doth not feel, until his failing sight

Faints into dimness with its own delight,

His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess

The might, the majesty of Loveliness? Such was Zuleika, such around her shone

The nameless charms unmark'd by her alone

The light of love, the purity of grace, The mind, the Music breathing from her face,

The heart whose softness harmonized the whole,

And oh! that eye was in itself a Soul !

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

"Zuleika! child of gentleness!

How dear this very day must tell,

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

And if her eye was fill'd with tears
That stifled feeling dare not shed,
And changed her cheek from pale to
red,

And red to pale, as through her ears Those winged words like arrows sped.

What could such be but maiden fears: So bright the tear in Beauty's eye, Love half regrets to kiss it dry; So sweet the blush of Bashfulness, Even Pity scarce can wish it less! Whate'er it was the sire forgot; Or if remember'd, mark'd it not : Thrice clapp'd his hands, and call'd his steed,

Resign'd his gem-adorn'd chibouque, And mounting featly for the mead, With Maugrabee and Mamaluke, His way amid his Delis took, To witness many an active deed With sabre keen, or blunt jerreed. The Kislar only and his Moors Watch well the Haram's massy doors.

His head was leant upon his hand,

His eye look'd o'er the dark blu water

That swiftly glides and gently swells
Between the winding Dardanelles ;
But yet he saw nor sea nor strand,
Nor even his Pacha's turban'd band
Mix in the game of mimic slaughter
Careering cleave the folded felt,

With sabre stroke right sharply dealt;
Nor mark'd the javelin-darting crowd
Nor heard their Ollahs wild and loud--
He thought but of old Giaffir's
daughter!

No word from Selim's bosom broke ;
One sigh Zuleika's thought bespoke:
Still gazed he through the lattice grate,
Pale, mute, and mournfully sedate.
To him Zuleika's eye was turn'd,
But little from his aspect learn'd:
Equal her grief, yet not the same;
Her heart confess'd a gentler flame :
But yet that heart, alarm'd or weak,
She knew not why, forbade to speak.
Yet speak she must-but when essay?
"How strange he thus should turn
away!

Not thus we e'er before have met;
Nor thus shall be our parting yet.'
Thrice paced she slowly through the

room,

And watch'd his eye-it still was fix'd: She snatch'd the urn wherein was mix'd

The Persian Atar-gul's perfume,
And sprinkled all its odors o'er
The pictured roof and marble floor:

The drops, that through his glittering vest

The playful girl's appeal address'd,
Cnheeded o'er his bosom flew,
As if that breast were marble too.
What, sullen yet? it must not be-
Oh! gentle Selim, this from thee!"
ihe saw in curious order set

The fairest flowers of eastern land'He loved them once: may touch them yet.

If offer'd by Zuleika's hand."

he childish thought was hardly breathed

Before the rose was pluck'd and wreathed:

The next fond moment saw her seat ler fairy form at Selim's feet:

This rose to calm my brother's cares message from the Bulbul bears; t says to-night he will prolong or Selim's ear his sweetest song; And though his note is somewhat sad, le'll try for once a strain more glad, With some faint hope his alter'd lay Lay sing these gloomy thoughts away.

What! not receive my foolish flower? Nay then I am indeed unblest: a me can thus thy forehead lower?

And know'st thou not who loves thee best?

Oh, Selim dear! oh, more than dearest ! Say, is it me thou hat'st or fearest? Come, lay thy head upon my breast, And I will kiss thee into rest,

Since words of mine, and songs must fail,

Ev'n from my fabled nightingale.
I knew our sire at times was stern,
But this from thee had yet to learn:
Too well I know he loves thee not;
But is Zuleika's love forgot?

Ah! deem I right? the Pacha's plan-
This kinsman Bey of Carasman
Perhaps may prove some foe of thine.
If so, I swear by Mecca's shrine,-
If shrines that ne'er approach allow
To woman's step, admit her vow,→
Without thy free consent. command,
The Sultan should not have my hand!
Think'st thou that I could bear to part
With thee, and learn to halve my heart?
Ah! were I sever'd from thy side,
Where were thy friend-and who my
guide?

Years have not seen, Time shall not see.
The hour that tears my soul from thee:
Ev'n Azrael, from his deadly quiver

When flies that shaft, and fly it must, That parts all else, shall doom for ever Our hearts to undivided dust!"

He lived, he breathed, he moved, he felt: He raised the maid from where she knelt;

His trance was gone, his keen eye shone With thoughts that long in darkness dwelt:

With thoughts that burn-in rays that melt.

As the stream late conceal'd

By the fringe of its willows, When it rushes reveal'd

In the light of its billows; As the bolt bursts on high

From the black cloud that bound it, Flash'd the soul of that eye

Through the long lashes round it. A war-horse at the trumpet's sound, A lion roused by heedless hound, A tyrant waked to sudden strife By graze of ill-directed knife, Starts not to more convulsive life Than he, who heard that vow, display'd, And all, before repress'd, betray'd:

Now thou art mine, for ever mine, With life to keep, and scarce with life

resign;

Now thou art mine, that sacred oath, Though sworn by one, hath bound us both.

Yes, fondly, wisely hast thou done; That vow hath saved more heads than

one:

But blench not thou-thy simplest tress
Claims more from me than tenderness ;
I would not wrong the slenderest hair
That clusters round thy forehead fair,
For all the treasures buried far
Within the caves of Istakar.

This morning clouds upon me lower'd,
Reproaches on my head were shower'd,
And Giaffir almost call'd me coward!
Now I have motive to be brave;
The son of his neglected slave,
Nay, start not, 'twas the term he gave,
May show, though little apt to vaunt,
A heart his words nor deeds can daunt.
His son, indeed !-yet, thanks to thee,
Perchance I am, at least shall be ;
But let our plighted secret vow
Be only known to us as now.

I know the wretch who dares demand
From Giaffir thy reluctant hand;
More ill-got wealth, a meaner soul
Holds not a Musselim's control:
Was he not bred in Egripo?
A viler race let Israel show!
But let that pass-to none be told
Our oath; the rest shall time unfold.
To me and mine leave Osman Bey;
I've partisans for peril's day:
Think not I am what I appear;
I've arms, and friends, and vengeance
near."

"Think not thou art what thou appearst! My Selim, thou art sadly changed: This morn I saw thee gentlest, dearest; But now thou'rt from thyself estranged.

My love thou surely knew'st before,
It ne'er was less, nor can be more.
To see thee, hear thee, near thee stay,
And hate the night I know not why,
Save that we meet not but by day;

With thee to live, with thee to die,
I dare not to my hope deny :
Thy cheek, thine eyes, thy lips to kiss,
Like this-and this-no more than this;
For, Allah! sure thy lips are flame:

What fever in thy veins is flushing? My own have nearly caught the same,

At least I feel my cheek, too, blushing. To soothe thy sickness, watch thy health, Partake, but never waste thy wealth, Or stand with smiles unmurmuring by,

To meet the gaze of stranger's eyes
Our law, our creed, our God denies:
Nor shall one wandering thought of mine
At such, our Prophet's will, repine:
No! happier made by that decree,
He left me all in leaving thee.
Deep were my anguish, thus compell'd
To wed with one I ne'er beheld:
This wherefore should I not reveal?
Why wilt thou urge me to conceal?
I know the Pacha's haughty mood
To thee hath never boded good;
And he so often storms at nought,
Allah! forbid that e'er he ought!
And why I know not, but within
My heart concealment weighs like sit.
If then such secrecy be crime,

And such it feels while lurking here Oh, Selim! tell me yet in time,

Nor leave me thus to thoughts of fear Ah! yonder see the Tchocadar, My father leaves the mimic war; I tremble now to meet his eyeSay, Selim, canst thou tell me why?'

"Zuleika-to thy tower's retreat Betake thee--Giaffir I can greet! And now with him I fain must prate Of firmans, imposts, levies, state.