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Blend every thought, do all-but disunite!
Once free, 'tis mine our horde again to guide:
Friends to each other, foes to aught beside:
Yet there we follow but the bent assign'd
By fatal Nature to man's warring kind:
Mark! where his carnage and his conquests cease
He 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 resource
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, when death or woe,
Or even disgrace, would lay her lover low,
Sunk in the lap of luxury will shame-
Away suspicion!-not Zuleika's name!
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 losing thee,
By Osman's power, and Giaffir's stern decree.
That dread shall vanish with the favouring 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 charms;
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 Horror'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 decline?
And is not Osman, who would part us, thine?

XXI.

"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 oft'ner share the toil.

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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.

Bride of Abydos p 167

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 would'st thou save that haughty Bey,
Perchance, his life who gave thee thine,
With me, this hour away-away!

But yet, though thou are plighted mine,
Would'st 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!"

XXII.

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 Niobé.
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!
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 cave

Oh! must that grot be Selim's grave?

XXIII.

Dauntless he stood-" "Tis come-soon past-

One kiss, Zuleika-'tis my last;

But yet my band not far from shore

May hear 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 high,

Zuleika started not, nor wept,

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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! rotire:

Yet stay within-here 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 him ?-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!"

XXIV.

One bound he 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-not five oars' length-
His comrades strain with desperate strength--
Oh! are they yet in time to save?
His feet the foremost breakers lave;
His band are plunging in the bay,
Their sabres glitter through the spray;
Wet-wild-unwearied to the strand
They struggle-now they touch the land!
They come 'tis but to add to slaughter-
His heart's best blood is on the water.

XXV.

Escaped from shot, unharm'd by steel,
Or scarcely grazed its force to feel.
Had Selim won, betray'd, beset,

To where the strand and billows met:
There as his last step left the land,

And the last death-blow dealt his hand

Ah! wherefore did he turn to look

For her his eyes but sought in vain?
That pause, that fatal gaze he took,
Hath doom'd his death, or fix'd his chain
Sad proof, in peril and in pain,
How late will Lover's hope remain!
His back was to the dashing spray;
Behind, but close, his comrades lay,
When, at the instant, hiss'd the ball-
"So may the foes of Giaffir fall!"

Whose voice is heard? whose carbine rang?
Whose bullet through the night-air sang,
Too nearly, deadly aim'd to err?
"Tis thine-Abdallah's Murderer!
The father slowly rued the hate,
The son hath found a quicker fate:

Fast from his breast the blood is bubbling,
The whiteness of the sea-foam troubling-

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