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"If blood be shed, 'tis but a change and choice
Of bonds,- from slavery to cowardice
A wretched fall !uplift thy charmèd voice,
Pour on those evil men the love that lies
Hovering within those spirit-soothing eyes-
Arise, my friend, farewell!”—As thus he spake,
From the green earth lightly I did arise,

As one out of diin dreams that doth awake,
And looked upon the depth of that reposing lake.

I saw my countenance reflected there;-
And then my youth fell on me like a wind
Descending on still waters—my thin hair
Was prematurely grey, my face was lined
With channels, such as suffering leaves behind,
Not age ;-my brow was pale, but in my cheek
And lips a flush of gnawing fire did find .

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,
A vision which aught sad from sadness might allure.

My powers revived within me, and I went
As one whom winds waft o'er the bending grass,
Thro' many a vale of that broad continent.
At night when I reposed, fair dreams did pass
Before my pillow ;-my own Cythna was,
Not like a child of death, among them ever;
When I arose from rest, a woeful mass

That gentlest sleep seemed from my life to sever,
As if the light of youth were not withdrawn for ever.

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.

Canto fifth.

OVER the utmost hill at length I sped,
A snowy steep:—the moon was hanging low
Over the Asian mountains, and outspread
The plain, the City, and the Camp below,
Skirted the midnight Ocean’s glimmering flow,
The City's moon-lit spires and myriad lamps,
Like stars in a sublunar sky did glow,

And fires blazed far amid the scattered camps, Like springs of flame, which burst where'er swift Earthquake stamps.

All slept but those in watchful arms who stood,
And those who sate tending the beacon's light,
And the few sounds from that vast multitude
Made silence more profound—Oh, what a might
Of human thought was cradled in that night!
How many hearts impenetrably veiled,
Beat underneath its shade, what secret fight

Evil and good, in woven passions mailed,
Waged thro' that silent throng; a war that never failed :

And now the Power of Good held victory,
So, thro' the labyrinth of many a tent,
Among the silent millions who did lie
In innocent sleep, exultingly I went;
The moon had left Heaven desert now, but lent
From eastern morn the first faint lustre showed
An armed youth-over his spear he bent

His downward face—"A friend !” I cried aloud,
And quickly common hopes made freemen understood.

I sate beside him while the morning beam
Crept slowly over Heaven, and talked with him
Of those immortal hopes, a glorious theme!
Which led us forth, until the stars grew dim:
And all the while, methought, his voice did swim,
As if it drowned in remembrance were
Of thoughts which make the moist eyes overbrim :

At last, when daylight 'gan to fill the air,
He looked on me, and cried in wonder-"thou art here."

Then, suddenly, I knew it was the youth
In whom its earliest hopes my spirit found;
But envious tongues had stained his spotless truth,
And thoughtless pride his love in silence bound,
And shame and sorrow mine in toils had wound,
Whilst he was innocent, and I deluded;
The truth now came upon me, on the ground

Tears of repenting joy, which fast intruded,
Fell fast, and o'er its peace our mingled spirits brooded.

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,
Ye stabbed as they did sleep—but they forgive ye now.

O wherefore should ill ever flow from ill,
And pain still keener pain forever breed ?
We all are brethren-even the slaves who kill
For hire, are men; and to avenge misdeed
On the misdoer, doth but Misery feed
With her own broken heart! 0 Earth, 0 Heaven!
And thou, dread Nature, which to every deed

And all that lives, or is, to be, hath given,
Even as to thee have these done ill, and are forgiven.

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