CANTO THE SECOND XVIII |
|
CANTO THE SECONDXVIII
The foe arrives, who long had search`d the field,
Their triumph nought till Lara too should yield;
They would remove him, but they see `twere vain,
And he regards them with a calm disdain,
That rose to reconcile him with his fate,
And that escape to death from living hate:
And Otho comes, and leaping from his steed,
Looks on the bleeding foe that made him bleed,
And questions of his state; he answers not,
Scarce glances on him as on one forgot,
And turns to Kaled: — each remaining word,
They understood not, if distinctly heard;
His dying tones are in that other tongue,
To which some strange remembrance wildly clung.
They spake of other scenes, but what — is known
To Kaled, whom their meaning reach`d alone;
And he replied, though faintly, to their sound,
While gazed the rest in dumb amazement round:
They seem`d even then — that twain — unto the last
To half forget the present in the past;
To share between themselves some separate fate,
Whose darkness none beside should penetrate.
|
