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Is this a chamber where I lie?
And is it mortal, yon bright eye,
That watches me with gentle glance ?

I closed my own again once more,
As doubtful that the former trance

Could not as yet be o'er.
A slender girl, long-hair'd, and tall,
Sate watching by the cottage wall ;
The sparkle of her eye I caught,
Even with my first return of thought ;
For ever and anon she threw

A prying, pitying glance on me

With her black eyes so wild and free ;
I gazed, and gazed, until I knew

No vision it could be,--
But that I lived, and was released
From adding to the vulture's feast;
And when the Cossack maid beheld
My heavy eyes at length unseald,
She smil'd-and I essay'd to speak,

But fail'd-and she approach'd and made

With lip and finger signs that said,
I must not strive as yet to break
The silence, till my strength should be
Enough to leave my accents free;
And then her hand on mine she laid,
And smooth'd the pillow for my head,
And stole along on tiptoe tread,

And gently oped the door, and spake
In whispers-ne'er was voice so sweet !
Even music follow'd her light feet ;-

But those she call'd were not awake, And she went forth ; but ere she pass'd, Another look on me she cast,

Another sign she made, to say That I had nought to fear, that all Were near, at my command or call,

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And she would not delay
Her due return,—while she was gone,
Methought I felt too much alone.

XX.

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She came with mother and with sire-
What need of more !—I will not tire
With long recital of the rest
Since I became the Cossack's guest.
They found me senseless on the plain-
They bore me to the nearest hut-
They brought me into life again,
Me—one day o'er their realm to reign!

Thus the vain fool who strove to glut
His rage, refining on my pain,

Sent me forth to the wilderness, Bound, naked, bleeding, and alone, To pass the desert to a throne,

What mortal his own doom may guess ? —

Let none despond, let none despair !
To-morrow the Borysthenes
May see our coursers graze at ease
Upon his Turkish bank—and never
Had I such welcome for a river

As I shall yield when safely there.
Comrades, good night!"

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DON JUAN

1819

THE SHIPWRECK

FROM CANTO II.

XXIV.

The ship, call’d the most holy “ Trinidada,"

Was steering duly for the port Leghorn; For there the Spanish family Moncada

Were settled long ere Juan's sire was born; They were relations, and for them he had a

Letter of introduction, which the morn Of his departure had been sent him by His Spanish friends for those in Italy.

XXV.

His suite consisted of three servants and

A tutor, the licentiate Pedrillo,
Who several languages did understand,

But now lay sick and speechless on his pillow, And, rocking in his hammock, long'd for land,

His headache being increased by every billow; And the waves oozing through the porthole made His berth a little damp, and him afraid.

XXVI.

'Twas not without some reason, for the wind

Increased at night, until it blew a gale; And though 'twas not much to a naval mind, Some landsmen would have look'd a little pale,

For sailors are, in fact, a different kind;

At sunset they began to take in sail,
For the sky show'd it would come on to blow,
And carry away, perhaps, a mast or so.

XXVII.

At one o'clock the wind with sudden shift

Threw the ship right into the trough of the sea, Which struck her aft, and made an awkward rift,

Started the stern-post, also shatter'd the
Whole of her stern frame, and, ere she could lift

Herself from out her present jeopardy,
The rudder tore away : 'twas time to sound
The pumps, and there were four feet water sound.

XXVIII.

One gang of people instantly was put

Upon the pumps, and the remainder set To get up part of the cargo, and what not ;

But they could not come at the leak as yet. At last they did get at it really, but

Still their salvation was an even bet ; The water rush'd through in a way quite puzzling, While they thrust sheets, shirts, jackets, bales of muslin,

XXIX.

Into the opening; but all such ingredients

Would have been vain, and they must have gone down, Despite of all their efforts and expedients,

But for the pumps : I'm glad to make them known
To all the brother tars who may have need hence,

For fifty tons of water were upthrown
By them per hour, and they had all been undone,
But for the maker, Mr. Mann, of London.

XXX.

As day advanced the weather seem'd to abate,

And then the leak they reckon'd to reduce, And keep the ship afloat, though three feet yet

Kept two hand and one chain-pump still in use. The wind blew fresh again : as it grew late

A squall came on, and while some guns broke loose, A gust—which all descriptive power transcendsLaid with one blast the ship on her beam-ends.

XXXI.

There she lay, motionless, and seem'd upset ;

The water left the hold, and wash'd the decks,
And made a scene men do not soon forget ;
For they remember battles, fires, and wrecks,
any

other thing that brings regret,
Or breaks their hopes, or hearts, or heads, or necks:
Thus drownings are much talk'd of by the divers,
And swimmers, who may chance to be survivors.

Or

XXXII.

Immediately the masts were cut away,

Both main and mizzen: first the mizzen went, The main-mast follow'd; but the ship still lay

Like a mere log and baffled our intent. Foremast and bowsprit were cut down, and they

Eased her at last (although we never meant To part with all till every hope was blighted), And then with violence the old ship righted.

XXXIII.

It may be easily supposed, while this

Was going on, some people were unquiet, That passengers would find it much amiss

To lose their lives as well as spoil their diet;

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