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They scarce can bear the morn to break There late was laid a marble stone;
Eve saw it placed-the Morrow gone!
That deep-fix'd pillar to the shore ;
Next morn 'twas found where Selim fell; And come have been who could believe Lash'd by the tumbling tide, whose wave (S fondly youthful dreams deceive, Denied his bones a holier grave: Ve harsh be they that blame)
And there, by night, reclined, 'tis said That note so piercing and profound Is seen a ghastly turban'd head : Will shape and syllable its sound
And hence extended by the billow, Into Zaleila's name.
'Tis named the “Pirate-phantom's pillow!” 'Tis fren ber cypress' summit heard, Where first it lay that mourning flower That melts in air the liquid word:
Hath flourished; flourisheth this hour, Ti from her lowly virgin-earth
Alone and dewy, coldly pare and pale; That white rose takes its tender birth. As weeping Beauty's cheek at Sorrow's tale!
A T A L E.
I suoi pensieri in lui dormir non ponno."
daughters, may there be found; and ColTHOMAS MOORE, ESQ.
lins, when he denominated his Oriental his
Irish Eclogues, was not aware how true, MY DEAR MOORE,
at least, was a part of his parallel. Your DEDICATE to you the last production with imagination will create a warmer sun, and which I shall trespass on public patience, less cloudy sky; but wildness, tenderness,
Four indulgence, for some years; and and originality are part of your national lat that I feel anxious to avail myself claim of oriental descent, to which you
ti latest and only opportunity of adorn- have already thus far proved your title en ny pages with a name, consecrated more clearly than the most zealous of your mushaken public principle, and the most country's antiquarians. debted and various talents. While May I add a few words on a subject on mabad ranks you among the firmest of her which all men are supposed to be fluent, urists ; while you stand alone the first of and none agreeable ?-Self
. I have written belards in her estimation, and Britain much, and published more than enough to pats and ratifies the decree, permit one, demand a longer silence than I now mediThe only regret, since our first acquaint- tate; but for some years to come it is my 3 has been the years he had lost before intention to tempt no further the award of desmenced, to add the humble but sin- "Gods, men, nor columns.” In the present ne saffrage of friendship, to the voice of composition I have attempted not the most are than one nation. It will at least prove difficult, hut, perhaps, the best adapted 1998, that I have neither forgotten the measure to our language, the good old and pifcation derived from your
society, nor now neglected heroic couplet. The stanza bandoned the prospect of its renewal, of Spenser is perhaps too slow and digniHeter your leisure or inclination allows fied for narrative; though I confess, it is on sa atone to your friends for too long the measure most after my own heart. Scott it absence. It is said among those friends, alone, of the present generation, has hitherto Irve truly, that you are engaged in the completely triumphed over the fatal faciHerpesition of a poem whose scene will be lity of the octo-syllabic verse; and this is it in the East ; none can do those scenes not the least victory of his fertile and sach jastice. The wrongs of your own mighty genius: in blank verse, Milton, Sentry
, the magnificent and fiery spirit of Thomson, and our dramatists, are the beaHer har, the beauty and feeling of her cons that shine along the deep, but warn
us from the rough and barren rock on which | These are our realms, no limits to thei they are kindled. The heroic couplet is
swaynot the most popular measure certainly ; Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey. but as I did not deviate into the other from Ours the wild life in tumult still to rang a wish to flatter what is called public opi- From toil to rest, and joy in every change nion, I shall quit it without further apo- Oh, who can tell? not thou, luxuriou logy, and take my chance once more with
slave! that versification, in which I have hitherto Whose soul would sicken o'er the heavin published nothing but compositions whose
wave; former circulation is part of my present and Not thou, vain lord of wantonness and ease will be of my future regret.
Whom slumber soothes not-pleasure can With regard to my story, and stories in
not pleasegeneral, I should have been glad to have Oh, who can tell, save he whose hear rendered my personages more perfect and
hath tried, amiable, if possible, inasmuch as I have And danced in triumph o'er the waters wid been sometimes criticised, and considered The exulting sense--the pulse's maddenin no less responsible for their deeds and qua
play, lities than if all had been personal. Be it That thrills the wanderer of that trackle so-- if I have deviated into the gloomy vanity of "drawing from self,” the pictures That for itself can woo the approachin are probably like, since they are unfavour
fight, able; and if not, those who know me are And turn what some deem danger to deligt undeceived, and those who do not, I have That seeks what cravens shun with mo little interest in undeceiving. I have no
than zeal, particular desire that any but my acquaint-And where the feebler faint-can only feel ance should think the author better than Feel-to the rising bosom's inmost core, the beings of his imagining; but I cannot Its hope awaken and its spirit soar? help a little surprise, and perhaps amuse- No dread of death—if with us die our foes ment, at some odd critical exceptions in Save that it seems even duller than repos the present instance, when I see several Come when it will—we snatch the life bards (far more deserving, I allow), in
life very reputable plight, and quite exempted When lost-what recks it-by disease from all participation in the faults of those
strife? heroes, who, nevertheless, might be found Let him who crawls enamourd of decay, with little more morality than "The Giaour,” Cling to his couch, and sicken years awa and perhaps -- but no-I must adınit Childe Heave his thick breath, and shake his pi Harold to be a very repulsive personage;
sied head; and as to his identity, those who like it Ours—the fresh turf, and not the feveri must give him whatever "alias" they please.
bed. If, however, it were worth while to re- While gasp by gasp he falters forth his so move the impression, it might be of some Ours with one pang—one bound -escaj service to me, that the man who is alike
control. the delight of his readers and his friends, His corse may boast its urn and narrow ca the poet of all circles, and the idol of his And they who loathed his life may gild own, permits me here and elsewhere to
grave: subscribe myself,
Ours are the tears, though few, sincere most truly and affectionately,
shed, his obedient servant, When Ocean shrouds and sepalchres BYRON.
dead. January 2, 1814.
For us even banquets fond regret supply
And the brief epitaph in danger's day,
When those who win at length divide
And cry, Remembrance saddening o'er er -nessun maggior dolore, Che ricordarsi del tempo felice
brow, Nella miseria
How had the brave who fell exulted not Dante.
"O'ER the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Such were the notes that from the Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls
rate's isle, as free,
Around the kindling watch-fire rang Far as the breeze can bear, the billows
Such were the sounds that thrillid the re Survey our empire and behold our home!
And ento ears as rugged seem'd a song! Her white wings flying-never from her In scatter'd groups upon the golden sand,
foes They game-carouse-converse—or whet She walks the waters like a thing of life,
the brand; And seems to dare the elements to strife, Select the arms—to each his blade assign, Who would not brave the battle-fire - tho And careless eye the blood that dims its
To move the monarch of her peopled deck? Repair the boat, replace the helm or oar, While others straggling muse along the Hoarse o'er her side the rustling cablu shore;
rings; Per the wild bird the busy springes set, Or spread beneath the sun the dripping net;
The sails are furld; and anchoring round
she swings: Gare where some distant sail speck And gathering loiterers on the land discern
supplies, With all the thirsting eye of Enterprise; 'Tis mann'd-the oars keep concert to the
Her boat descending from the latticed stern. Tell d'er the tales of many a night of toil,
strand, tad marvel where they next shall seize a Till grates her keel upon the shallow sand. spoil:
Hail to the welcome-shout!—the friendly No matter where—their chief's allotment
speech! this; Theirs , to believe no prey nor plan amiss.
When hand grasps hand uniting on the
beach; But who that CHIEF? his name on every The smile, the question, and the quick reply, shore
And the heart's promise of festivity! k humed and fear'd—they ask and know no id these he mingles not but to command;
The tidings spread, and gathering grow's fer are his words, but keen his eye and
the crowd : hand.
The hum of voices, and the laughter loud, bee seasons he with mirth their jovial And woman's gentler anxious tone is heard
Friends'-husbands'---lovers' names in each det bey forgive his silence for success.
dear word: heter for his lip the purpling cup they fill, "Oh! are they safe? we ask not
of success – Det qablet passes him antasted still But shall we see them ? will their accent, had far his fare-the rudest of his crew
bless ? Kaald that, in turn, have pass'd untasted too; From where the battle roars - the billowa Tamb's coarsest bread, the garden's home
chale liest roots,
They doubtless boldly did - but who are and carce the summer-luxury of fruits,
safe? I bort repast in humbleness supply
Here let them haste to gladden and surprize, Titulla hermit's board would scarce deny. And kiss the doubt from these delighted But while he shuns the grosger joys of sense, Binind seems nourish d by that abstinence. Bloer to that shore !”- they sail. “Do "Where is our chief? for him we bear this !"_ 'tis done:
reportTor form and follow me!"-the spoil is And doubt that joy, which hails vur com
ing-short; Hos prompt his accents and his actions Yet thus sincere -'tis cheering, though so still,
brief; ed all obey and few inquire his will; But, Juan! instant guide us to our chief: brach, brief answer and contemptuous eye Oar greeting
paid, we'll feast on our return, step reproof, nor further deign reply. And all shall hear what each may wish to
Ascending slowly by the rock-hewn way, *4 sail !– a sail!”-a promised prize to To where his watch-tower beetles o'er the Hope!
bay, Senation—flag- how speaks the telescope? By bushy brake, and wild flowers blossomuprize, alas! - but yet a welcome sail
ing, e ulood-red signal glitters in the gale. And freshness breathing from each silver
spring, Har fair, thoa breeze ? - she anchors ere Whose scatter'd streams from granite basins the dark.
burst, laeady donbled is the cape—our bay leezives that prow which proudly spurns
Leap into life, and sparkling woo your
From crag to cliff they mount-Near yonder low gloriously her gallant course she goes!
What lonely straggler looks along the wave? Still sways their souls with that comn In pensive posture leaning on the brand,
ing art Not oft a resting-staff to that red hand? That dazzles, leads, yet chills the v "Tis he ---- 'tis Conrad -- here— as wont
What is that spell, that thus his la On-Juan! on – and make our purpose known.
train The bark he views--and tell him we would Confess and envy, yet oppose in vain?
What should it be? that thus their His ear with tidings he must quickly meet:
can bind? We dare not yet approach-thou know'st his, The power of Thought - the magic a mood,
Mind! When strange or uninvited steps intrude.” Link'd with success, assumed and kept
That moulds another's weakness to its Him Juan sought, and told of their intent-Wields with their hands, but, still to He spake not-but a sign express'd assent.
unknown, TheseJuan calls– they come-to their salute Makes even their mightiest deeds a He bends him slightly, but his lips are mute.
his own. "These letters, Chief, are froin the Greek-- Such hath it been-shall be-beneath th Who still proclaims our spoil or peril nigh: 'Tis Nature's doom-bat let the wretch
The many still must labour for the oj Whate'er his tidings, we can well report,
toils Much that” –“Peace, peace!” - He cuts their Accuse not, hate not him who wear
prating short. Wondering they turn, abash’d, while each Oh! if he knew the weight of spl
spoils. to each
chains, Conjecture whispers in his muttering speech: How light the balance of his humbler [ They watch his glance with many a steal
ing look, To gather how that eye the tidings took; Unlike the heroes of each ancient n But, this as if he guess'd, with head aside, Demons in act, but Guds at least in Perchance from some emotion, doubt, or In Conrad's form seems little to admit
pride, He read the scroll—“My tablets, Juan,
Though his dark eye-brow shades a 8
of fire: hark –
Robust but not Herculean -- to the sig Where is Gonsalvo ?” "In the anchor'd bark.” Yet, in the whole, who paused to
Nogiant frame sets forth his common he “There let him stay-to him this order bear. Back to your duty - for my course prepare : Saw more than marks the crowd of vi
again, Myself this enterprize to-night will share."
men; "To-night, Lord Conrad ? »
They gaze and marvel how-and stilla
“Ay! at set of sun: That thus it is, but why they canno! The breeze will freshen when the day is Sun-burnt his cheek, his forehead hig!
done. My corslet-cloak – one hour, and we are the sable curls in wild profusion veil
pale gone. Sling on thy bugle-see that free from rust, The haughtier thought it curbs, but s
And oft perforce his rising lip reveals My carbine-lock springs worthy of my trust; Be the edge sharpen’d of my boarding-brand, Though smooth his voice, and calm And give its guard more room to fit my hand. This let the Armourer with speed dispose; still seems there something he woul Last time it more fatigued my arm than
have seen: foes: Mark that the signal-gun be duly fired
His features'deepening lines and varyin To tell us when the hour of stay's expired." As if within that murkiness of mind
At times attracted, yet perplex'd the
Workd feelings fearful, and yet undel They make obeisance, and retire in haste, Such might it be - that none could Too soon to seek again the watery waste: Yet they repine not-so that Conrad guides; Too close inquiry his stern glance And who dare question aught that he decides?
gnell. That man of loneliness and mystery, There breathe but few whose aspect ! Scarce seen to smile,and seldom heard to sigh;
defy Whose name appals the fiercest of his crew, The full encounter of his searching e And tints earli swarthy check with sallower He had the skill, when Cunning
To probe his heart and watch his changing He hated man too much to feel remorse, cheek,
And thought the voice of wrath a sacred call, Ai mace the observer's purpose to espy, To pay the injuries of some on all. And on himself roll back his scrutiny, He knew himself a villain- but he deem'd Lathe te Conrad rather should betray The rest no better than the thing he seem'd; Same secret thought, than drag that chief's And scorn'd the best as hypocrites who hid to day.
Those deeds the bolder spirit plainly did. There was a laughing Devil in his sneer, He knew himself detested, but he knew That raised emotions both of rage and fear; The hearts that loathed him, crouch'd and And where his frown of hatred darkly fell,
dreaded too. Flope withering fed—and Mercy sigh'd Lone, wild, and strange, he stood alike farewell!
From all affection and from all contempt: Slight are the outward signs of evil His name could sadden, and his acts surprise; thought,
But they that fear'd him dared not to despise : Tithia-within —'twas there the spirit Man spurns the worm, but pauses ere he wake wrought!
The slumbering venom of the folded snake: Love abows all changes-Hatc, Ambition, The first may turn—but not avenge the Guile,
blow; Betray no farther than the bitter smile ;
The last expires - but leaves no living foe; The lips least curl, the lightest paleness Fast to the doom'd offender's form it clings, thrown
And he may crush—not conquer-still it llegg the govern d aspect, speak alone
stings! A deeper passions ; and to judge their mien, He who would see, must be himself unseen.
None are all evil - quickening round his Na–with the hurried tread, the upward one softer feeling would not yet depart;
heart, eye, The clenched hand, the pause of agony,
Oft could he sneer at others as beguiled He listens, starting, lest the step too near
By passions worthy of a fool or child; yrach intrusive on that mood of fear:
Yet 'gainst that passion vainly still he strove, ks-with each feature working from the And even in him it asks the name of Love? heart,
Yes, it was love-unchangeable-unchanged, Fick feelings loosed to strengthen—not Felt but for one from whom he never
Though fairest captives daily met his eye, hat rise -convulse-contend - that freeze,
He shunn’d, nor sought, but coldly passid
them by; or glow, Paned in the cheek, or damp upon the brow; Though many a beauty droop'a in prison'd
bower Dar- Stranger! if thou canst, and tremblest not,
None ever soothed his most unguarded hour. Debat his soul, the rest that soothes his lot! Yes it was Love if thoughts of tenderness, li-how that lone and blighted bosom Tried in temptation, strengthen’d by distress,
Unmoved by absence, firm in every clime, scathing thought of execrated years!
And yet - Oh more than all!- untired by kehold—but who hath seen, or e'er shall see, which nor defeated hope, nor baffled wile
time; le a himself – the secret spirit free?
Could render sullen were she near to smile,
Nor rage could fire, nor sickness fret to vent it was not Conrad thus by nature sent On her one murmur of his discontent; blead the guilty-guilt's worst instru- Which still would meet with joy, with ment
calinness part, is soul was changed, before his deeds had Lest that his look of grief should reach driven
her heart; la forth to war with man and forfeit Which nought removed, nor menaced to
heaven. lepid by the world in Disappointment's If there be love in mortals - this was love! school,
He was a villain - ay- reproaches shower varde too wise, in conduct there a fool; On him but not the passion, nor its power, Parim to yield. and far too proud to stoop, Which only proved, all other virtues gone, held by his very virtues for a dupe, carsed those sirtnes as the cause of ill,
Not guilt itself could quench this loveliest
one! #sot the traitors who betray'd him still;
dem'd that gifts bestow'd on better men He paused a moment- till his hastening ad left him joy, and means to give again. barid - shunn'a - belied -- ere youth had Pass'd the first winding downward to the lost her force,