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As one out of diin dreams that doth awake,
Their food and dwelling; tho' mine eyes might speak A subtle mind and strong within a frame thus weak.
XXX. And tho' their lustre now was spent and faded, Yet in my hollow looks and withered mien The likeness of a shape for which was braided The brightest woof of genius, still was seenOne who, methought, had gone from the world's scene, And left it vacant-'twas her brother's faceIt might resemble her-it once had been
The mirror of her thoughts, and still the grace Which her mind's shadow cast, left there a lingering trace
XXXI. What then was I ? She slumbered with the dead. Glory and joy and peace, had come and gone. Doth the cloud perish, when the beams are fied Which steeped its skirts in gold ? or dark and lone, Doth it not thro' the paths of night unknown, On outspread wings of its own wind upborne Pour rain upon the earth ? the stars are shewn,
When the cold moon sharpens her silver horn Under the sea, and make the wide night not forlorn.
XXXII. Strengthened in heart, yet sad, that agèd man I left, with interchange of looks and tears, And lingering speech, and to the Camp began My way. O'er many a mountain chain which rears Its hundred crests aloft, my spirit bears My frame; o'er many a dale and many a moor, And gaily now meseems serene earth wears
The blosmy spring's star-bright investiture,
That gentlest sleep seemed from my life to sever,
XXXIV. Aye as I went, that maiden who had reared The torch of Truth afar, of whose high deeds The Hermit in his pilgrimage had heard, Haunted my thoughts.-Ah, Hope its sickness feeds With whatsoe'er it finds, or flowers or weeds! Could she be Cythna ?—Was that corpse a shade Such as self-torturing thought from madness breeds ?
Why was this hope not torture ? yet it made A light around my steps which would not ever fade.
And fires blazed far amid the scattered camps, Like springs of flame, which burst where'er swift Earthquake stamps.
Evil and good, in woven passions mailed,
His downward face—"A friend !” I cried aloud,
At last, when daylight 'gan to fill the air,
Tears of repenting joy, which fast intruded,
VI. Thus, while with rapid lips and earnest eyes We talked, a sound of sweeping conflict spread, As from the earth did suddenly arise; From every tent roused by that clamour dread, Our bands outsprung and seized their arms—we sped Towards the sound: our tribes were gathering far. Those sanguine slaves amid ten thousand dead
Stabbed in their sleep, trampled in treacherous war The gentle hearts whose power their lives had sought to spare.
VII. Like rabid snakes, that sting some gentle child Who brings them food, when winter false and fair Allures them forth with its cold smiles, so wild They rage among the camp;-they overbear : The patriot hosts—confusion, then despair Descends like night-when “Laon !” one did cry: Like a bright ghost from Heaven that shout did scare
The slaves, and widening thro' the vaulted sky, Seemed sent from Earth to Heaven in sign of victory. ... VOL. I.
VIII. In sudden panic those false murderers fled, Like insect tribes before the northern gale: But swifter still, our hosts encompassed Their shattered ranks, and in a craggy vale, Where even their fierce despair might nought avail Hemmed them around !--and then revenge and fear Made the high virtue of the patriots fail :
One pointed on his foe the mortal spearI rushed before its point, and cried, “Forbear, forbear!”
IX. The spear transfixed my arm that was uplifted In swift expostulation, and the blood Gushed round its point: I smiled, and—“Oh! thou gifted With eloquence which shall not be withstood, Flow thus!”-I cried in joy, “thou vital flood, Until my heart be dry, ere thus the cause For which thou wert aught worthy be subdued
Ah, ye are pale,-ye weep,--your passions pause,'Tis well! ye feel the truth of love's benignant laws.
X. “ Soldiers, our brethren and our friends are slain. Ye murdered them, I think, as they did sleep! Alas, what have ye done? the slightest pain Which ye might suffer, there were eyes to weep But ye have quenched them—there were smiles to steep Your hearts in balm, but they are lost in woe; And those whom love did set his watch to keep
Around your tents truth's freedom to bestow,
And all that lives, or is, to be, hath given,