"Who art thou, and wherefore sent
"So near a hostile armament?"
His trembling hands refused to sign
The cross he deemed no more divine:
He had resumed it in that hour,

But conscience wrung away the power.

He gazed, he saw he knew the face

Of beauty, and the form of grace;

It was Francesca by his side,

495

The maid who might have been his bride!

500

The rose was yet upon

her cheek,

But mellowed with a tenderer streak:

Where was the play of her soft lips fled?

Gone was the smile that enlivened their red.

D 2

The ocean's calm within their view,

Beside her eye had less of blue;

But like that cold wave it stood still,

And its glance, though clear, was chill.

505

And ere yet she made reply,

Once she raised her hand on high;

It was so wan, and transparent of hue,

You might have seen the moon shine through.

515

XXI.

"I come from my rest to him I love best,

"That I may be happy, and he may be blest.

"I have passed the guards, the gate, the wall; 520 "Sought thee in safety through foes and all.

""Tis said the lion will turn and flee

"From a maid in the pride of her purity;

"And the Power on high, that can shield the good

"Thus from the tyrant of the wood,

"Hath extended its mercy to guard me as well

"From the hands of the leaguering infidel.

"I come-and if I come in vain,

"Never, oh never, we meet again!

"Thou hast done a fearful deed

"In falling away from thy father's creed:

525

530

"But dash that turban to earth, and sign

"The sign of the cross, and for ever be mine;

Wring the black drop from thy heart,

"And to-morrow unites us no more to part." 535

"And where should our bridal couch be spread?

"In the midst of the dying and the dead?

"For to-morrow we give to the slaughter and flame

"The sons and the shrines of the Christian name.

"None, save thou and thine, I've sworn,

540

"Shall be left upon the morn :

"But thee will I bear to a lovely spot,

"Where our hands shall be joined, and our sorrow

forgot.

"There thou yet shalt be my bride,

"When once again I've quelled the pride

545

"Of Venice; and her hated race

"Have felt the arm they would debase

<< Scourge, with a whip of scorpions, those

"Whom vice and envy made my foes."

Upon his hand she laid her own

550

Light was the touch, but it thrilled to the bone,

And shot a chillness to his heart,

Which fixed him beyond the power to start.

Though slight was that grasp so mortal cold,

He could not loose him from its hold;

But never did clasp of one so dear

Strike on the pulse with such feeling of fear,

As those thin fingers, long and white,

555

Froze through his blood by their touch that

night.