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CANTO THE FIRSTXII
He lived — he breathed — he moved — he felt;
He raised the maid from where she knelt;
His trance was gone — his keen eye shone
With thoughts that long in darkness dwelt;
With thoughts that burn — in rays that melt.
As the streams late conceal`d
By the fringe of its willows,
When it rushes reveal`d
In the light of its billows;
As the bolt bursts on high
From the black cloud that bound it,
Flash`d the soul of that eye
Through the long lashes round it.
A war-horse at the trumpet`s sound,
A lion roused by heedless hound,
A tyrant waked to sudden strife
By graze of ill-directed knife,
Starts not to more convulsive life
Than he, who heard that vow, display`d,
And all, before repress`d, betray`d:
"Now thou art mine, for ever mine,
With life to keep, and scarce with life resign;
Now thou art mine, that sacred oath,
Though sworn by one, hath bound us both.
Yes, fondly, wisely hast thou done;
That vow hath saved more heads than one:
But blench not thou — thy simplest tress
Claims more from me than tenderness;
I would not wrong the slenderest hair
That clusters round thy forehead fair,
For all the treasures buried far
Within the caves of Istakar.
This morning clouds upon me lower`d,
Reproaches on my head were shower`d,
And Giaffir almost call`d me coward!
Now I have motive to be brave;
The son of his neglected slave —
Nay, start not, `twas the term he gave —
May shew, though little apt to vaunt,
A heart his words nor deeds can daunt.
His son, indeed! — yet, thanks to thee,
Perchance I am, at least shall be!
But let our plighted secret vow
Be only known to us as now.
I know the wretch who dares demand
From Giaffir thy reluctant hand;
More ill-got wealth, a meaner soul
Holds not a Musselim`s control:
Was he not bred in Egripo?
A viler race let Israel show!
But let that pass — to none be told
Our oath; the rest let time unfold.
To me and mine leave Osman Bey;
I`ve partisans for peril`s day:
Think not I am what I appear;
I`ve arms, and friends, and vengeance near."
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