Selected Poems (58 page)

Sunk he in Contemplation, till the cape

455

Where last he anchor’d rear’d its giant shape.

Ah! – since that fatal night, though brief the time,

Had swept an age of terror, grief, and crime.

As its far shadow frown’d above the mast,

He veil’d his face, and sorrow’d as he pass’d;

460

He thought of all – Gonsalvo and his band,

His fleeting triumph and his failing hand;

He thought on her afar, his lonely bride:

He turn’d and saw – Gulnare, the homicide!

XIV

She watch’d his features till she could not bear

465

Their freezing aspect and averted air,

And that strange fierceness foreign to her eye,

Fell quench’d in tears, too late to shed or dry.

She knelt beside him and his hand she press’d,

‘Thou may’st forgive though Allah’s self detest;

470

But for that deed of darkness what wert thou?

Reproach me – but not yet – Oh! spare me
now!

I am not what I seem – this fearful night

My brain bewilder’d – do not madden quite!

If I had never loved – though less my guilt,

475

Thou hadst not lived to – hate me – if thou wilt.’

XV

She wrongs his thoughts, they more himself upbraid

Than her, though undesign’d, the wretch he made;

But speechless all, deep, dark, and unexprest,

They bleed within that silent cell – his breast.

480

Still onward, fair the breeze, nor rough the surge,

The blue waves sport around the stern they urge;

Far on the horizon’s verge appears a speck,

A spot – a mast – a sail – an armed deck!

Their little bark her men of watch descry,

485

And ampler canvass woos the wind from high;

She bears her down majestically near,

Speed on her prow, and terror in her tier;

A flash is seen – the ball beyond her bow

Booms harmless, hissing to the deep below.

490

Up rose keen Conrad from his silent trance,

A long, long absent gladness in his glance;

‘ ’Tis mine – my blood-red flag! again – again –

I am not all deserted on the main!’

They own the signal, answer to the hail,

495

Hoist out the boat at once, and slacken sail.

‘ ’Tis Conrad! Conrad!’ shouting from the deck,

Command nor duty could their transport check!

With light alacrity and gaze of pride,

They view him mount once more his vessel’s side;

500

A smile relaxing in each rugged face,

Their arms can scarce forbear a rough embrace.

He, half forgetting danger and defeat,

Returns their greeting as a chief may greet,

Wrings with a cordial grasp Anselmo’s hand,

505

And feels he yet can conquer and command!

XVI

These greetings o’er, the feelings that o’erflow,

Yet grieve to win him back without a blow;

They sail’d prepared for vengeance – had they known

A woman’s hand secured that deed her own,

510

She were their queen – less scrupulous are they

Than haughty Conrad how they win their way.

With many an asking smile and wondering stare,

They whisper round, and gaze upon Gulnare;

And her, at once above – beneath her sex,

515

Whom blood appall’d not, their regards perplex.

To Conrad turns her faint imploring eye,

She drops her veil, and stands in silence by;

Her arms are meekly folded on that breast,

Which – Conrad safe – to fate resign’d the rest.

520

Though worse than frenzy could that bosom fill,

Extreme in love or hate, in good or ill,

The worst of crimes had left her woman still!

XVII

This Conrad mark’d, and felt – ah! could he less? –

Hate of that deed – but grief for her distress;

525

What she has done no tears can wash away,

And Heaven must punish on its angry day:

But – it was done: he knew, whate’er her guilt,

For him that poniard smote, that blood was spilt;

And he was free! – and she for him had given

530

Her all on earth, and more than all in heaven!

And now he turn’d him to that dark’d-eyed slave

Whose brow was bow’d beneath the glance he gave,

Who now seem’d changed and humbled: – faint and meek,

But varying oft the colour of her cheek

535

To deeper shades of paleness – all its red

That fearful spot which stain’d it from the dead!

He took that hand – it trembled – now too late –

So soft in love – so wildly nerved in hate;

He clasp’d that hand – it trembled – and his own

540

Had lost its firmness, and his voice its tone.

‘Gulnare!’ – but she replied not – ‘dear Gulnare!’

She raised her eye – her only answer there –

At once she sought and sunk in his embrace:

If he had driven her from that resting-place,

545

His had been more or less than mortal heart,

But – good or ill – it bade her not depart.

Perchance, but for the bodings of his breast,

His latest virtue then had join’d the rest.

Yet even Medora might forgive the kiss

550

That ask’d from form so fair no more than this,

The first, the last that Frailty stole from Faith –

To lips where Love had lavish’d all his breath,

To lips – whose broken sighs such fragrance fling,

As he had fann’d them freshly with his wing!

XVIII

555

They gain by twilight’s hour their lonely isle.

To them the very rocks appear to smile;

The haven hums with many a cheering sound,

The beacons blaze their wonted stations round,

The boats are darting o’er the curly bay,

560

And sportive dolphins bend them through the spray;

Even the hoarse sea-bird’s shrill, discordant shriek,

Greets like the welcome of his tuneless beak!

Beneath each lamp that through its lattice gleams,

Their fancy paints the friends that trim the beams.

565

Oh! what can sanctify the joys of home,

Like Hope’s gay glance from Ocean’s troubled foam?

XIX

The lights are high on beacon and from bower,

And ’midst them Conrad seeks Medora’s tower:

He looks in vain – ’tis strange – and all remark,

570

Amid so many, hers alone is dark.

’Tis strange – of yore its welcome never fail’d,

Nor now, perchance, extinguish’d, only veil’d.

With the first boat descends he for the shore,

And looks impatient on the lingering oar.

575

Oh! for a wing beyond the falcon’s flight,

To bear him like an arrow to that height!

With the first pause the resting rowers gave,

He waits not – looks not – leaps into the wave,

Strives through the surge, bestrides the beach, and high

580

Ascends the path familiar to his eye.

He reach’d his turret door – he paused – no sound

Broke from within; and all was night around.

He knock’d, and loudly – footstep nor reply

Announced that any heard or deem’d him nigh;

585

He knock’d – but faintly – for his trembling hand

Refused to aid his heavy heart’s demand.

The portal opens – ’tis a well known face –

But not the form he panted to embrace.

Its lips are silent – twice his own essay’d,

590

And fail’d to frame the question they delay’d;

He snatch’d the lamp – its light will answer all –

It quits his grasp, expiring in the fall.

He would not wait for that reviving ray –

As soon could he have linger’d there for day;

595

But, glimmering through the dusky corridore,

Another chequers o’er the shadow’d floor;

His steps the chamber gain – his eyes behold

All that his heart believed not – yet foretold!

XX

He turn’d not – spoke not – sunk not – fix’d his look,

600

And set the anxious frame that lately shook:

He gazed – how long we gaze despite of pain,

And know, but dare not own, we gaze in vain!

In life itself she was so still and fair,

That death with gentler aspect wither’d there;