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They scarce can bear the morn to break | There late was laid a marble stone;
Eve saw it placed - the Morrow gone!
That deep-fix'd pillar to the shore ;
Next morn 'twas found where Selim fell; And some have been who could believe Lash'd by the tumbling tide, whose wave (Se fondly youthful dreams deceive, Denied his bones a holier grave: Yet harsh be they that blame)
And there, by night, reclined, 'tis said That note so piercing and profound
Is seen a ghastly turban'd head : Will share and syllable its sound
And hence extended by the billow, Into Zaleila's name.
'Tis named the “Pirate-phantom's pillow!” 'Tis from her cypress' summit heard, Where first it lay that mourning flower That melts in air the liquid word:
Hath flourished; flourisheth this hour, Te from her lowly virgin-earth
Alone and dewy, coldly pure and pale; That white rose takes its tender birth. | As weeping Beauty's cheek at Sorrow's tale!
daughters, may there be found; and ColTHOMAS MOORE, ESQ.
lins, when he denominated his Oriental his
Irish Eclogues, was not aware how true, MY DEAR MOORE,
at least, was a part of his parallel. Your DEDICATE to you the last production with imagination will create a warmer sun, and h I shall trespass on public patience, less cloudy sky; but wildness, tenderness, per indulgence, for some years; and and originality are part of your national las that I feel anxious to avail nyself claim of oriental descent, to which you la latest and only opportunity of adorn- have already thus far proved your title my pages with a name, consecrated more clearly than the most zealous of your ushaken public principle, and the most country's antiquarians. mbted and various talents. While May I add a few words on a subject on land ranks you among the firmest of her which all men are supposed to be fluent, hats; while you stand alone the first of and none agreeable? -Self. I have written balards in her estimation, and Britain much, and published more than enough to
parts and ratifies the decree, permit one, demand a longer silence than I now medithe only regret, since our first acquaint-tate; but for some years to come it is my
has been the years he had lost before intention to tempt no further the award of otomenced, to add the humble but sin- “Gods, men, nor columns.” In the present te saffrage of friendship, to the voice of composition I have attempted not the most pire than one nation. It will at least prove difficult, hut, perhaps, the best adapted
you, that I have neither forgotten the measure to our language, the good old and poification derived from your society, nor now neglected heroic couplet. The stanza ndoned the prospect of its renewal, of Spenser is perhaps too slow and digniter your leisure or inclination allows fied for narrative; though I confess, it is
atone to your friends for too long the measure most after my own heart. Scott lence. It is said among those friends, alone, of the present generation, has hitherto at truly, that you are engaged in the completely triumphed over the fatal faciposition of a poem whoge scene will be lity of the octo-syllabic verse; and this is la the East; none can do those scenes not the least victory of his fertile and wach justice. The wrongs of your own mighty genius: in blank verse, Milton, autry, the magnificent and fiery spirit of Thomson, and our dramatists, are the beaMan, the beauty and feeling of her cons that shine along the deep, but warn
us from the rough and barren rock on which | These are our realms, no limits to they are kindled. The heroic couplet is
sway not the most popular measure certainly ;| Our flag the sceptre all who meet obe but as I did not deviate into the other from Ours the wild life in tumult still to r a wish to flatter what is called public opi- From toil to rest, and joy in every cha nion, I shall quit it without further apo-Oh, who can tell ? not thou, luxur logy, and take my chance once more with
slave! that versification, in which I have hitherto Whose soul would sicken o'er the hea published nothing but compositions whose
wave; former circulation is part of my present and Not thon, vain lord of wantonness and will be of my future regret.
Whom slumber soothes not-pleasure With regard to my story, and stories in
not please general, I should have been glad to have Oh, who can tell, save he whose h rendered my personages more perfect and
hath tried, amiable, if possible, inasmuch as I have And danced in triumph o'er the waters been sometimes criticised, and considered The exulting sense—the pulse's madde no less responsible for their deeds and qua
play, lities than if all had been personal. Be it | That thrills the wanderer of that track $0-- if I have deviated into the gloomy va
way? nity of “drawing from self,” the pictures | That for itself can woo the approach are probably like, since they are unfavour
fight, able; and if not, those who know me are And turn what some deem danger to deli undeceived, and those who do not, I have That seeks what cravens shun with little interest in undeceiving. I have no
than zeal, particular desire that any but my acquaint-And where the feebler faint-can only fe ance should think the author better than Feel—to the rising bosom's inmost core the beings of his imagining; but I cannot Its hope awaken and its spirit soar? help a little surprise, and perhaps amuse-No dread of death-if with us die our fo ment, at some odd critical exceptions in Save that it seems even duller than rep the present instance, when I see several Come when it will—we snatch the lil bards (far more deserving, I allow), in very reputable plight, and quite exempted When lost- what recks it-by diseas from all participation in the faults of those
strife? heroes, who, nevertheless, might be found Let him who crawls enamour'd of deca with little more morality than "The Giaour,” Cling to his couch, and sicken years ay and perhaps- but no-I must admit Childe Heave his thick breath, and shake his Harold to be a very repulsive personage;
sied head; and as to his identity, those who like it Ourg--the fresh turf, and not the feve must give him whatever "alias" they please.
If, however, it were worth while to re-While gasp by gasp he falters forth his move the impression, it might be of some Ours with one pang-une bound-est service to me, that the man who is alike the delight of his readers and his friends, His corse may boast its urn and narrow the poet of all circles, and the idol of his And they who loathed his life may gili own, permits me here and elsewhere to
grave: subscribe myself,
Ours are the tears, though few, since most truly and affectionately,
shed, his obedient servant, When Ocean shrouds and sepalchres BYRON.
dead. January 2, 1814.
For us even banquets fond regret suppl
And the brief epitaph in danger's day,
When those who win at length divide
And cry, Remembrance saddening o'er " -nessun maggior dolore, Che ricordarsi del tempo felice
brow, Nella miseria
How had the brave who fell exulted a DANTE
“O'ER the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Such were the notes that from the Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls
rate's isle, as free,
Around the kindling watch-fire rang Far as the breeze can bear, the billows
while ; foam,
Such were the sounds that thrill'd ther Survey our empire and behold our home! !
And unto ears as rugged seer'd a song! Her white wings flying-never from her la scatter'd groups upon the golden sand,
foes – They game-carouse-converse-or whet She walks the waters like a thing of life,
the brand; And seems to dare the elements to strife. Select the arms-to each his blade assign, Who would not brave the battle-fire - tho And careless eye the blood that dims its
To move the monarch of her peopled deck? Repair the boat, replace the helm or oar, While others straggling muse along the Hoarse o'er her side the rustling cablu shore;
rings; for the wild bird the busy springes set, The gails are furl'd; and anchoring round Or spread beneath the sun the dripping net;
she swings : Gaze where some distant sail a speck And gathering loiterers on the land discern supplies,
Her boat descending from the latticed stern. With all the thirsting eye of Enterprise; Tell o'er the tales of many a night of toil,
| 'Tis mann'd-the oars keep concert to the
strand, And marvel where they next shall seize a Till grates her keel upon the shallow sand. spoil:
Hail to the welcome-shout!—the friendly No matter where—their chief's allotment
speech! - this;
When hand grasps hand uniting on the Theirs, to believe no prey nor plan amiss.
beach; But who that CHIEF? his name on every | The smile, the question, and the quick reply, shore
And the heart's promise of festivity! famed and fear'd—they ask and know no
more. Wd these he mingles not but to command;
The tidings spread, and gathering grow's fer are his words, but keen his eye and
the crowd : hand.
The hum of voices, and the laughter loud, The seasons he with mirth their jovial And woman's gentler anxious tone is heard -
Friends'-- husbands'---lovers' names in each mess, ke they forgive his silence for success.
dear word: ke fer his lip the purpling cup they fill,
“Oh! are they safe? we ask not of success That goblet passes him untasted still
But shall we see them ? will their accents had for his fare—the rudest of his crew
bless? Kould that, in turn, have pass'd untasted too;
From where the battle roars - the billows larth's coarsest bread, the garden's home
chafe liest roots,
They doubtless boldly did -- but who are And scarce the summer-luxury of fruits,
safe? kort repast in humbleness supply
Here let them haste to gladden and surprize, Shall a hermit's board would scarce deny.
And kiss the doubt from these delighted But while he shuns the grosser joys of sense,
eyes!” bus sind seems nourish'd by that abstinence. Steer to that shore !”- they sail. “Do “Where is our chief? for him we bear this!"_ 'tis done:
reportDon form and follow me!”—the spoil is And doubt that joy, which hails vur comwon.
ing-short; las prompt his accents and his actions Yet thus sincere - 'tis cheering, though so still,
brief; d all obey and few inquire his will; But, Juan! instant guide us to our chief: srech, brief answer and contemptuous eye Our greeting paid, we'll feast on our return, latey reproof, nor further deign reply. And all shall hear what each may wish to
Ascending slowly by the rock-hewn way, "I sail !-a sail!”-a promised prize to To where his watch-tower beetles o'er the Hope!
bay, tien-flag- how speaks the telescope? By bushy brake, and wild flowers blossomprize, alas! - but yet a welcome sail :
ing, lood-red signal glitters in the gale. And freshness breathing from each silver-the is ours - a home-returning bark
spring, fair, thou breeze ?- she anchors ere Whose scatter'd streams from granite basins the dark.
burst, teady doubled is the cape_our bay Leap into life, and sparkling woo your leceives that prow which proudly spurns
thirst; the spray. From crag to cliff they mount–Near yonder low gloriously her gallant course she goes! |
What lonely straggler looks along the wave? Still sways their souls with that comn In pensive posture leaning on the brand,
ing art Not oft a resting-staff to that red hand? That dazzles, leads, yet chills the v "Tis he - 'tis Conrad - here -- as wont
What is that spell, that thus his la On--Juan! on - and make our purpose known.
train The bark he views-and tell him we would Confess and envy, yet oppose in vain?
What should it be? that thus their His ear with tidings he must quickly meet:
can bind? We dare not yet approach-thou know'st his The power of Thought-the magic a mood,
Mind! When strange or uninvited steps intrude.” Link'd with success, assumed and kept
That moulds another's weakness to its lim Juan sought, and told of their intent-Wields with their hands, but, still to He spake not-but a sign express'd assent.
unknown, TheseJuan calls -- they come-to their salute | Makes even their mightiest deeds a He bends him slightly, but his lips are mute.
his own. “These letters, Chief, are froin the Greek-
Such hath it been - shall be-beneath th the spy,
The many still must labour for the on Who still proclaims our spoil or peril nigh: T:
| 'Tis Nature's doom-but let the wretch Whate'er his tidings, we can well report,
toils Much that" _“Peace, peace!”—He cuts their Accuse not, bate not him who wear prating short.
spoils. Wondering they turn, abash’d, while each | Oh! if he knew the weight of spl
to each Conjecture whispers in his muttering speech: How light the balance of his humbler p
chains, They watch his glance with many a steal
ing look, To gather how that eye the tidings took;
Unlike the heroes of each ancient ri But, this as if he guess'd, with head aside, Demons in act, but Gods at least in Perchance from some emotion, doubt, or In Conrad's form seems little to admit
Though his dark eye-brow shades a g He read the scroll —“My tablets, Juan,
of fire: hark
Robust but not Herculean - to the sig Where is Gonsalvo ?”
No giant frame sets forth his common he "In the anchor'd bark.”lv. “There let him stay-to him this order bear.
Yet, in the whole, who paused to
again, Back to your duty- for my course prepare : Myself this enterprize to-night will share.”
; Saw more than marks the crowd of vi
men; “To-night, Lord Conrad ? "
They gaze and marvel how-and stiller “Ay! at set of sun: 11
sun: That thus it is, but why they cannot The breeze will freshen when the day is Sun-burnt his cheek, his forehead hig!
done. My corslet-cloak - one hour-and we are the sable enrks in wild profusion veil
| And oft perforce his rising lip reveals Sling on thy bugle- see that free from rust, | My carbine-lock springs worthy of my trust;
The haughtier thought it curbs, but :
conceals. Be the edge sharpen'd of my boarding-brand, Though smooth his voice, and calm And give its guard more rooin to fit my hand. This let the Armourer with speed dispose; I still seems there something he woul Last time it more fatigued my arm than
have seen: foes: Mark that the signal-gun be duly fired
His features'deepening lines and varyin To tell us when the hour of stay's expired." As if within that murkiness of mind
At times attracted, yet perplex'd the
Work'd feelings fearful, and yet undel They make obeisance, and retire in haste, Such might it be - that none could Too soon to seek again the watery waste: Yet they repine not-so that Conrad guides; Too close inquiry his stern glance " And who dare question aught that he decides? That man of loneliness and mystery, | There breathe but few whose aspect i Scarce seen to smile,and seldom heard to sigh; Whose name appals the fiercest of his crew, The full encounter of his searching And tints earli swarthy check with sallower He had the skill, when Cunning's
To probe his heart and watch his changing He hated man too much to feel remorse, cheek,
And thought the voice of wrath a sacred call, At once the observer's purpose to espy, To pay the injuries of some on all. And on himself roll back his scrutiny, He knew himself a villain-- but he deem'd Lest he to Conrad rather should betray The rest no better than the thing he seem'd; Same secret thought, than drag that chief's And scorn'd the best as hypocrites who hid to day.
Those deeds the bolder spirit plainly did. There was a laughing Devil in his sneer, He knew himself detested, but he knew That raised emotions both of rage and fear; The hearts that loathed him, crouch'd and And where his frown of hatred darkly fell,
dreaded too. Hope withering fled—and Mercy sigh'd Lone, wild, and strange, he stood alike farewell!
From all affection and from all contempt: Slight are the outward signs of evil
His name could sadden, and his acts surprise; thought,
But they that fear'd him dared not to despise : Tithin-within-'twas there the spirit
Man spurns the worm, but pauses ere he wake wrought!
The slumbering venom of the folded snake: Love shows all changes-flatc, Ambition, |
The first may turn-but not avenge the Guile,
blow; Betray no farther than the bitter smile;
The last expires--but leaves no living foe; The lip's least curl, the lightest paleness
Fast to the doom'd offender's form it clings, thrown
And he may crush-not conquer-still it kleg the govern'd aspect, speak alone
stings! deeper passions; and to judge their mien, He who would see, must be himself unseen.
None are all evil - quickening round his Iza-rith the hurried tread, the upward
heart, One softer feeling would not yet depart; eye, le clenched hand, the pause of agony,
Oft could he sneer at others as beguiled the listens, starting, lest the step too near
By passions worthy of a fool or child; Wyrach intrusive on that mood of fear:
Yet 'gainst that passion vainly still he strove, Thes-with each feature working from the
And even in him it asks the name of Love! heart,
Yes, it was love-uuchangeable-unchanged, with feelings loosed to strengthen-not
Felt but for one from whom he never ranged; depart:
Though fairest captives daily met his eye, That rise-convulse-contend - that freeze,
He shunn'd, nor sought, but coldly passid
them by; or glow, in the cheek, or damp upon the brow: Though many a beauty droop'd in prison'd e-Stranger! if thou canst, and trem
bower blest not,
None ever soothed his most unguarded hour. Said his sonl- the rest that soothes his lot!
Yes it was Love if thoughts of tenderness, Bas-how that lone and blighted bosom
| Tried in temptation, strengthen'd by distress,
| Unmoved by absence, firm in every clime, sears seathing thought of execrated years!
And yet - Oh more than all!-- untired by bald—but who hath seen, or e'er shall see, la himself - the secret spirit free?
Which nor defeated hope, nor baffled wile
Nor rage could fire, nor sickness fret to vent s tas not Conrad thus by nature sent On her one murmur of his discontent; lead the guilty-guilt's worst instru- Which still would meet with joy, with ment
calmness part, soul was changed, before his deeds had Lest that his look of grief should reach driven
her heart; lorth to war with man and forfeit Which nought removed, nor menaced to heaven.
removed by the world in Disappointment's If there be love in mortals - this was love! school,
He was a villain - ay - reproaches shower ards too wise, in conduct there a fool; On him- but not the passion, nor its power, im to yield, and far too proud to stoop, Which only proved, all other virtues gone,
by his very virtues for a dupe, Not guilt itself could quench this loveliest cursed those virtues as the cause of ill,
one! sot the traitors who betray'd him still; temd that gifts bestow'd on better men He paused a moment- till his hastening left him joy, and means to give again.
men - shunnd - belied - ere youth had Pass'd the first winding downward to the
lost her force,