He slept Who o'er his placid slumber bends?
His foes are gone and here he hath no friends;
Is it some seraph sent to grant him grace?
No, 'tis an earthly form with heavenly face!
Its white arm raised a lamp-yet gently hid,
Lest the ray flash abruptly on the lid

Of that closed eye, which opens but to pain,
And once unclosed-but once may close again.
That form, with eye so dark, and cheek so fair,
And auburn waves of gemm'd and braided hair;
With shape of fairy lightness-naked foot,

That shines like snow, and falls on earth as mute—
Through guards and dunnest night how came it there?
Ah! rather ask what will not woman dare?
Whom youth and pity lead like thee, Gulnare!
She could not sleep and while the Pacha's rest
In muttering dreams yet saw his pirate-guest,
She left his side-his signet-ring she bore,
Which oft in sport adorn'd her hand before-
And with it, scarcely question'd, won her way
Through drowsy guards that must that sign obey.
Worn out with toil, and tired with changing blows,
Their eyes had envied Conrad his repose;

And chill and nodding at the turret door,

They stretch their listless limbs, and watch no more:
Just raised their heads to hail the signet-ring,
Nor ask or what or who the sign may bring.

XIII.

She gazed in wonder, "Can he calmly sleep, "While other eyes his fall or ravage weep?

"And mine in restlessness are wandering here— "What sudden spell hath made this man so dear? "True 'tis to him my life, and more, I owe, "And me and mine he spared from worse than woe: ""Tis late to think-but soft-his slumber breaks"How heavily he sighs!—he starts-awakes!"

He raised his head and dazzled with the light, His eye seem'd dubious if it saw aright: He moved his hand-the grating of his chain Too harshly told him that he lived again. "What is that form? if not a shape of air, "Methinks, my jailor's face shows wond'rous fair!"

"Pirate! thou know'st me not but I am one, "Grateful for deeds thou hast too rarely done; "Look on me and remember her, thy hand "Snatch'd from the flames, and thy more fearful band. "I come through darkness and I scarce know why"Yet not to hurt-I would not see thee die."

"If so, kind lady! thine the only eye

"That would not here in that gay hope delight: "Theirs is the chance and let them use their right. "But still I thank their courtesy or thine,

"That would confess me at so fair a shrine!"

Strange though it seem-yet with extremest grief
Is link'd a mirth-it doth not bring relief-
That playfulness of Sorrow ne'er beguiles,
And smiles in bitterness-but still it smiles;

And sometimes with the wisest and the best,
Till even the scaffold (10) echoes with their jest!
Yet not the joy to which it seems akin—
It may deceive all hearts, save that within.
Whate'er it was that flash'd on Conrad, now
A laughing wildness half unbent his brow:
And these his accents had a sound of mirth,
As if the last he could enjoy on earth;

Yet 'gainst his nature-for through that short life,
Few thoughts had he to spare from gloom and strife.

XIV.

"Corsair! thy doom is named-but I have power "To soothe the Pacha in his weaker hour.

"Thee would I spare-nay more would save thee now, "But this time-hope-nor even thy strength allow; "But all I can, I will: at least delay

"The sentence that remits thee scarce a day.

"More now were ruin-even thyself were loth
"The vain attempt should bring but doom to both."

"Yes!-loth indeed:-my soul is nerved to all,
"Or fall'n too low to fear a further fall:
"Tempt not thyself with peril; me with hope
"Of flight from foes with whom I could not cope:
"Unfit to vanquish-shall I meanly fly,

"The one of all my band that would not die?
"Yet there is one-to whom my memory clings,
"Till to these eyes her own wild softness springs.
"My sole resources in the path I trod

"Were these my bark-my sword-my love-my God!

"The last I left in youth-he leaves me now-
"And Man but works his will to lay me low.
"I have no thought to mock his throne with prayer
"Wrung from the coward crouching of despair ;
"It is enough-I breathe-and I can bear.
"My sword is shaken from the worthless hand
"That might have better kept so true a brand;
"My bark is sunk or captive but my love—
"For her in sooth my voice would mount above :
"Oh! she is all that still to earth can bind-
"And this will break a heart so more than kind,
"And blight a form-till thine appear'd, Gulnare!
"Mine eye ne'er ask'd if others were as fair."

"Thou lov'st another then?-but what to me "Is this 'tis nothing-nothing e'er can be: "But yet-thou lov'st-and-Oh! I envy those "Whose hearts on hearts as faithful can repose, "Who never feel the void-the wandering thought "That sighs o'er visions—such as mine hath wrought."

“Lady—methought thy love was his, for whom "This arm redeem'd thee from a fiery tomb."

"My love stern Seyd's! Oh-No-No-not my love"Yet much this heart, that strives no more, once strove "To meet his passion-but it would not be.

"I felt I feel-love dwells with-with the free. "I am a slave, a favour'd slave at best,

"To share his splendour, and seem very blest! "Oft must my soul the question undergo,

"Of Dost thou love?' and burn to answer, 'No!'

"Oh! hard it is that fondness to sustain, "And struggle not to feel averse in vain; "But harder still the heart's recoil to bear, "And hide from one-perhaps another there. "He takes the hand I give not-nor withhold"Its pulse nor check'd—nor quicken'd-calmly cold: "And when resign'd, it drops a lifeless weight "From one I never loved enough to hate. "No warmth these lips return by his imprest, "And chill'd remembrance shudders o'er the rest. "Yes-had I ever proved that passion's zeal, "The change to hatred were at least to feel: "But still he goes unmourn'd-returns unsought"And oft when present-absent from my thought. "Or when reflection comes, and come it must"I fear that henceforth 'twill but bring disgust; "I am his slave-but, in despite of pride, ""Twere worse than bondage to become his bride. "Oh! that this dotage of his breast would cease! "Or seek another and give mine release,

"But yesterday I could have said, to peace! "Yes if unwonted fondness now I feign, "Remember-captive! 'tis to break thy chain; Repay the life that to thy hand I owe; "To give thee back to all endear'd below, "Who share such love as I can never know. "Farewell-morn breaks-and I must now away: ""Twill cost me dear but dread no death to-day!"

XV.

She press'd his fetter'd fingers to her heart,
And bow'd her head, and turn'd her to depart,