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178

Her eye on stranger objects fell.
There arms were piled, not such as wield
The turban'd Delis in the field ;
But brands of foreign blade and hilt,
And one was red-perchance with guilt !
Ah! how without can blood be spilt ?
A cup too on the board was set
That did not seem to hold sherbet.
What may this mean? she turn'd to see
Her Selim—“ Oh! can this be he ?"

Whereon engraved the Koorsee text, Could smooth this life, and win the

next; And by her comboloio lies A Koran of illumined dyes; And many a bright emblazon'd rhyme By Persian scribes redeem'd from time; And o'er those scrolls, not oft so mute, Reclines her now neglected lute; And round her lamp of fretted gold Bloom flowers in urns of China's mould ; The richest work of Iran's loom, And Sheeraz, tribute of perfume; All that can eye or sense delight

Are gather'd in that gorgeous room :

But yet it hath an air of gloom She, of this Peri cell the sprite, What doth she hence, and on so rude a

night?

His robe of pride was thrown aside,

His brow no high-crown'd turban bore, But in its stead a shawl of red, Wreathed lightly round, his temples

wore:
That dagger, on whose hilt the gem
Were worthy of a diadem,
No longer glitter'd at his waist,
Where pistols unadorn'd were braced ;
And from his belt a sabre swung,
And from his shoulder loosely hung
The cloak of white, the thin capote
That decks the wandering Candiote;
Beneath-his golden plated vest
Clung like a cuirass to his breast;
The greaves below his knee that wound
With silvery scales were sheathed and

bound.
But were it not that high command
Spake in his eye, and tone, and hand,
All that a careless eye could see
In him was some young Galiongée.

Wrapt in the darkest sable vest,

Which none save noblest Moslem wear, To guard from winds of heaven the

breast As heaven itself to Selim dear, With cautious steps the thicket thread

ing, And starting oft, as through the glade The gust its bollow moanings made, Till on the smoother pathway treading, More free her timid bosom beat,

The maid pursued her silent guide ; And though her terror urged retreat,

How could she quit her Selim's side ?

How teach her tender lips to chide ? They reach'd at length a grotto, hewn

By nature, but enlarged by art, Where oft her lute she wont to tune,

And oft her Koran conn'd apart ; And oft in youthful reverie She dream'd what Paradise might be : Where woman's parted soul shall go Her Prophet had disdaind to show ; But Selim's mansion was secure, Nor deem'l she, could he long endure His bower in other worlds of bliss Without her, most beloved in this! Oh! who so dear with him could dwell ? What Houri soothe him half so well?

“I said I was not what I seem'd ; And now thou see'st my words were

true : I have a tale thou hast not dream'd,

If sooth-its truth must others rue.
My story now 't were vain to hide,
I must not see thee Osman's bride :
But had not thine own lips declared ·
How much of that young heart I shared,
I could not, must not, yet have shown
The darker secret of my own.
In this I speak not now of love;
That, let time, truth, and peril prove:
But first-Oh! never wed another
Zuleika! I am not thy brother!"
“Oh! not my brother !--yet unsay-

God! am I left alone on earth
To mourn I dare not curse—the day

That saw my solitary birth?
Oh! thou wilt love me now no more!

My sinking heart foreboded ill;
But know me all I was before,

Since last she visited the spot
Some change seem'd wrought within the

grot:
It might be only that the night
Disguised things seen by better light :
That brazen lamp but dimly threw
A ray of no celestial hue;
But in a nook within the cell

1 A Turkish sailor.

Thy sister-friend-Zuleika still. shou led'st me here perchance to kill ;

If thou hast cause for vengeance, see! My breast is offer'd-take thy fill! Far better with the dead to be

Than live thus nothing now to thee! Perhaps far worse, for now I know Why Giaffir alway seem'd thy foe; And I, alas ! am Ĝiaffir's child, For whom thou wert contemn'd, reviled. If rt thy sister-wouldst thou save lyte, oh! bid me be thy slave !"

Bleika k-nay, I'm thine : Bute ve, this transport calm, Thy lot snall yet be link'd with mine ; I swear by our Prophet's shrine, And that thought thy sorrow's

balm. So may the Koran verse display'd Upon its steel direct my blade, In danger's hour to guard us both, As I preserve that awful oath! The name in which thy heart hath prided

Must change ; but, my Zuleika, know, That tie is widen'd, not divided,

Although thy Sire's my deadliest foe. My father was to Giaffir all

That Selim late was deem'd to thee : That brother wrought a brother's fall,

But spared, at least, my infancy ; And lull'd me with a vain deceit That yet a like return may meet. He rear'd me, not with tender help,

But like the nephew of a Cain ;
He watched me like a lion's whelp,
That gnaws and yet may break his

chain.
My father's blood in every vein
Is boiling; but for thy dear sake
No present vengeance will I take;

Though here I must no more remain.
But first, beloved Zuleika ! hear
How Giaftir wrought this deed of fear.

“When Paswan, after years of strife,
At last for power, but first for life,
In Widdin's walls too proudly sate,
Our Pachas rallied round the state;
Nor last nor least in high command,
Each brother led a separate band;
They gave their horse-tails 1 to the wind,

And mustering in Sophia's plain
Their tents were pitch'd, their post as-

sign'd; To one, alas ! assign'd in vain ! What need of words ! the deadly bowl,

By Giaffir's order drugged and given, With venom subtle as his soul,

Dismiss'd Abdallah's hence to heaven, Reclined and feverish in the bath,

He, when the hunter's sport was up, But little deem'd a brother's wrath

To quench his thirst had such a cup: The bowl a bribed attendant bore; He drank one draught, nor needed more! If thou my tale, Zuleika, doubt, Call Haroun--he can tell it out.

* The deed once done, and Paswan's feud In part suppress'd, though ne'er subdued,

Abdallah's Pachalick was gaind :Thou know'st not what in our Divan Can wealth procure for worse than man-

Abdallah's lionors were obtain'd Ry him a brother's murder staind; "T is true, the purchase nearly drain'd His ill got treasure, soon replaced. Wouldst question whence? Survey the

waste, And ask the squalid peasant how His gains repay his broiling brow!Why me the stern usurper spared, Why thus with me his palace shared, I know not. Shame, regret, remorse, And little fear from infant's force; Besides, a loption as a son By him whom Heaven accorded none, Or some unknown cabal, caprice, Preserved me thus ;-but not in peace : He cannot curb his laughty mood, Nor I forgive a father's blood. “ Within thy father's house are foes ;

Not all wlio break his bread are true; To these should I my birth disclose,

His days, his very hours were few;
They only want a heart to lead,
A hand to point them to the deed.
But Haroun only knows, or knew,

This dale, whose close is almost nigh a

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“ How first their strife to rancor grew,

If love or envy made them foes,
It matters little if I knew ;
In fiery spirits, slights, though few

And thoughtless, will disturb repose.
In war Abdallah's arm was strong,
Remember'd yet in Bosniac song,
And Paswan's rebel hordes attest
How little love they bore such guest :
His death is all I need relate,
The stern effect of Giaffir's hate ;
And how my birth disclosed to me,
Whate'er beside it makes, hath made me

free.

1“ Horse-tail," the standart of a pacha.

(Byron.)

He in Abdallah's palace grew,

And held that post in his Serai

Which holds he here-he saw lim die; But what could single slavery do ? Avenge his lord ? alas! too late ; Or save his son from such a fate ? He chose the last, and when elate

With foes subdued, or friends betray'd, Proud Giaffir in high triumph sate, He led me helpless to his gate,

And not in vain it seems essay'd

To save the life for which he pray’d. The knowledge of my birth secured

From all and each, but most from me ; Thus Giaffir's safety was insured.

Removed he too from Roumelie
To this our Asiatic siile,
Far from our seats by Danube's tide,

With none but Haroun, who retains Such knowledge--and that Nubian feels

A tyrant's secrets are but chains, From which the captive gladly steals, And this and more to me reveals : Such still to guilt just Alla sendsSlaves, tools, accomplices-no friends! “ All this, Zuleika, harshly sounds ;

But harsher still my tale must be : Howe'er my tongue thy softness wounds,

Yet I must prove all truth to thee.

I saw thee start this garb to see, Yet is it one I oft have worn,

And long must wear: this Galiongée, To whom thy plighted vow is sworn,

Is leader of those pirate hordes,
Whose laws and lives are

on their swords ; To hear whose desolating tale Would make thy waning cheek more

pale: Those arms thou see'st my band have

brought. The hands that wield are not remote ; This cup too for the rugged kuaves Is tilld--once quaff*d, they ne'er repine: 017 prophet might forgive the slaves :

They're only infidels in wine.

By hope unblest, of fame bereft,
While thou—whose softness long en

dear'd, Though it unmann'd me, still had

cheer'd-
To Brusa's walls for safety sent,
Awaited'st there the field's event.
Haroun, who saw my spirit pining

Beneath inaction's sluggish yoke,
His captive, though with dread resign-

ing, My thraldom for a season broke, On promise to return before The 'ay when Giaffir's charge was o'er. 'T is vain--my tongue cannot impart My almost drunkenness of heart, When first this liberated eye Survey'd Earth, Ocean, Sun, Sky, As if my spirit pierced them throughi, And all their inmost wonders knew ! One word alone can paint to thee That more than feeling-I was Free! E'en for thy presence ceased to pine ; The World-nay, Heaven itself

mine !

was

“The shallop of a trusty Moor
Convey'il me from this idle shore ;
I long'd to see the isles that gem
Old Ocean's purple diadem :
I sought by turns, and saw them all;
But when and where I join'd the

crew, With whom I'm pledged to rise or fall,

When all that we design to do Is done, 't will then be time more meet To tell thee, when the tale's complete.

find :

" What could I be? Proscribed at home,
And taunte:) to a wish to roam ;
Aud listless left--for Giaffir's fear
Denied the courser and the spear--
Though oft-Oh, Mahomet! how oft-
In full Divan the despot scoff’d,
As if my weak unwilling hand
Refused the bridle or the brand :.
He ever went to war alone,
And pent me here untried-unknown ;
To Haroun's rare with women left.

' 'T is true, they are a lawless brood,
But rough in form, nor mild in mood;
And every creed, and every race,
With thein hath found-may

place;
But open speech, and ready hand,
Obedience to their chief's command ;
A soul for every enterprise,
That never sees with terror's eyes ;
Friendship for each, and faith' to all,
And vengeance vow'd for those who fall,
Have made them fitting instruments
For more than ev'n my own intents.
And some--and I have studied all

Distinguish'd from the vulgar rank, But chiefly to my council call

The wisdom of the cautious FrankА some to higher thoughts aspire,

The last of Lambro's patriots there

Anticipated freedom Share ; And oft around the carern fire

On visionary schemes debate,
To snatch the Rayals from their fate.
So let them ease their hearts with prate
Of equal rights, which man ne'er knew;
I have a love for freedom too.
Ay! let me like the ocean-Patriarch roam
Or only know on land the Tartar's home!
My tent on shore, my galley on the sea,
Are more than cities and Serais to me :
Borne by my steed, or wafted by my sail,
Across the desert, or before the gale,
Bound where thou wilt, my barb! ar

glide, my prow! But be the star that guides the wanderer,

Thou ! Thou, my Zuleika, share and bless my

bark; The Dove-of peace and promise to mine

ark ! Or, since that hope denied in worlds of

strife, Be thou the rainbow to the storms of

life! The evening beam that smiles the clouds

away, And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray! Blest--as the Muezzin's strain from Mec

ca's wall To pilgrims pure and prostrate at his Soft--as the melody of youthful days, That steals the trembling tear of speech

less praise ; Dear--as his native song to Exile's ears, Shall sound each tone thy long-loved

voice endears. For thee in those bright isles is built a

bower Blooming as Aden in its earliest hour. A thousand swords, with Selim's heart

and hand, Wait-wave-defend-destroy-at thy

command ! Girt by my band, Zuleika at my side, The spoil of nations shall bedeck my

bride. The Haram's languid years of listless ease Are well resign'd for cares-for joys like

these : Not blind to fate, I see, where'er I rove, Unnumber'd perils—but one only love! Yet well my toils shall that fond breast

repay, Though fortune frown, or falser friends

betray. How dear the dream in darkest hours

of ill, Should all be changed, to find thee faith

ful still!

call ;

Be but thy soul, like Selim's, firmly

shown; To thee be Selim's tender as thine own; To soothe each sorrow: share in each de

light, Blend every thought, do all--but dis..

unite ! Once free, 'tis mine our horde again to

guide; Friends to each other, foes to aught be

side : Yet there we follow but the bent assign'd By fatal Nature to man's warring kind : Mark! where his carnage and his co

quests cease! lle makes a solitude, and calls it-peace! I, like the rest, must use my skill or

strength, But ask no land beyond my sabre's

length: Power sways · but by division--her re

source The blest alternative of fraud or force! Ours be the last ; in time deceit may

come When cities cage us in a social home : There ev'n thy soul might err-how oft

the heart Corruption shakes which peril could not

part ! And woman,

more than man, whe:: death or woe, Or even Disgrace, would lay her love.

low, Sunk in the lap of Luxury will shame-Away suspicion !--not Zuleika's naine! But life is hazard at the best ; and here No more remains to win, and much to

fear : Yes, fear ? the doubt, the dread of los

ing thee, By Osman's power, and Giafiir's stern

decree. That dread shall vanish with the farour

ing gale, Which Love to-night hath promised to

my sail : No danger daunts the pair his smile hath

blest, Their steps still roving, but their hearts

at rest. With thee all toils are sweet, each clime

hath charis ; Earth ---sea alike-our world within our

arms ! Ay-let the loud winds whistle o'er the

deck, So that those arms cling closer round

my neck :

The deepest murmur of this lip shall be,
No sigh for safety, but a prayer for thee!
The war of elements no fears impart
To Love, whose deadliest bane is human

Art:
There lie the only rocks our course can

check; Here moments menace-there are years

of wreck! But hence ye thoughts that rise in Hor

ror's shape! This hour bestows, or ever bars, escape. Few words remain of mine my tale to

close ; Of thine but one to waft us from our

foes ; Yea-foes--to me will Giaffir's hate de

cline? And is not Osman, who would part us,

thine ?

Another-and another-and another-Oh ! fly-no more-yet now my more

than brother!" Far, wide, through every thicket spread The fearful lights are gleaming red; Nor these alone-for each right hand Is ready with a sheathless brand. They part, pursue, return, and wheel With searching flambeau, shining steel ; And last of all, his sabre waving, Stern Giaffir in his fury raving : And now almost they touch the caveOh! must that giot be Selim's grave?

“ His head and faith from doubt and

death Return'd in time my guard to save ; Few heard, none told, that o'er the wave From isle to isle I roved the while; And since, though parted from my band, Too seldom now I leave the land, No deed they've done, nor deed shall do, Ere I have heard and doom'd it too : I form the plan, decree the spoil, 'Tis fit I oftener share the toil. But now too long I've held thine ear ; Time presses, floats my bark, and here We leave behind but hate and fear. To-morrow Osman with his train Arrives-to-night must break thy chain : And wouldst thou save that haughty

Bey, Perchance his life who gave thee

thine, With me this hour away-away! But yet, though thou art plighted

mine, Wouldst thou recall thy willing vow, Appall'd by truths imparted now, Here rest I - not to see thee wed: But be that peril on my head!”

Dauntless he stood -- "'Tis come-soon

pastOne kiss, Zuleika-'tis my last :

But yet my band not far from shore May liear this signal, see the flash; Yet now too few-the attempt were

rash: No matter--yet one effort more." Forth to the cavern mouth he stept ;

His pistol's echo rang on higli, Zuleikä started not, nor wept, Despair benumb'd' her breast and

eye!* They hear me not, or if they ply Their oars 'tis but to see me die; That sound hath drawn my foes more

nigh.
Then forth my father's scimitar,
Thou ne'er hast seen less equal war!
Farewell, Zuleika !-sweet! retire :

Yet stay within--liere linger safe,

At thee his rage will only chafe. Stir not--lest even to thee perchance Some erring blade or ball should glance. Fear’st thou for bim?--may I expire If in this strife I seek thy sire ! No--though by him that poison pour'd ; No--though again he call me coward ! But tamely shall I meet their steel? No--as each crest save his may feel !” One bound hé made, and gain'd the

sand: Already at his feet hath sunk The foremost of the prying band,

A gasping head, a quivering trunk : Another falls--but round him close A swarming circle of his foes ; From right to left his path he cleft,

And almost met the meeting wave: His boat appears~nct five oars' lengthHis comrades strain with desperate

strength-Oh! are they yet in time to save ? His feet the foremost breakers lave;

Zuleika, mute and motionless,
Stood like that statue of distress,
When, her last hope for ever gone,
The mother harden'd into stone :
All in the maid that eye could see
Was but a younger Niohè.
But ere her lip, or even her eye,
Essay'd to speak, or look reply,
Beneath the garden's wicket porch
Far flash'd on high a blazing torch!

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