O'er that which hath been, and o'er that which must
What we have seen, our sons shall see;
Remnants of things that have pass'd away,
Fragments of stone, rear'd by creatures of clay!
He sate him down at a pillar's base,
And pass'd his hand athwart his face;
Like one in dreary musing mood,
Declining was his attitude;
His head was drooping on his breast,
Fever'd, throbbing, and opprest;
And o'er his brow, so downward bent,
Oft his beating fingers went,
Hurriedly, as you may see
Your own run over the ivory key,
Ere the measured tone is taken
By the chords you would awaken.
There he sate all heavily,
As he heard the night-wind sigh.
Was it the wind, through some hollow stone, (6)
Sent that soft and tender moan?
He lifted his head, and he look'd on the sea,
But it was unrippled as glass may be;
He look'd on the long grass-it waved not a blade;
How was that gentle sound convey'd?
He look'd to the banners-each flag lay still,
So did the leaves on Citharon's hill,
And he felt not a breath come over his cheek;
What did that sudden sound bespeak?
He turn'd to the left-is he sure of sight?
There sate a lady, youthful and bright!
He started up with more of fear
Than if an armed foe were near.
"God of my fathers! what is here?
"Who art thou, and wherefore sent
"So near a hostile armament?"
His trembling hands refused to sign
The cross he deem'd no more divine:
He had resumed it in that hour,
But conscience wrung away the power.
He gazed, he saw: he knew the face
Of beauty, and the form of grace;
It was Francesca by his side,
The maid who might have been his bride!
The rose was yet upon her cheek,
But mellow'd with a tenderer streak:
Where was the play of her soft lips fled?
Gone was the smile that enliven'd their red.
The ocean's calm within their view,
Beside her eye had less of blue;
But like that cold wave it stood still,
And its glance, though clear, was chill.
Around her form a thin robe twining,
Nought conceal'd her bosom shining;
Through the parting of her hair,
Floating darkly downward there,
Her rounded arm show'd white and bare:
And ere yet she made reply,
Once she raised her hand on high;
It was so wan, and transparent of hue,
You might have seen the moon shine through.
"I come from my rest to him I love best,
"That I may be happy, and he may be blest.
"I have pass'd the guards, the gate, the wall;
Sought thee in safety through foes and all.
""Tis said the lion will turn and flee
"From a maid in the pride of her purity;
"And the Power on high, that can shield the good
"Thus from the tyrant of the wood,
"Hath extended its mercy to guard me as well
"From the hands of the leaguering infidel.
"I come-and if I come in vain,
"Never, oh never, we meet again!
"Thou hast done a fearful deed
"In falling away from thy father's creed:
"But dash that turban to earth, and sign
"The sign of the cross, and for ever be mine;
66 Wring the black drop from thy heart,
"And to-morrow unites us no more to part."
"And where should our bridal couch be spread? "In the midst of the dying and the dead? "For to-morrow we give to the slaughter and flame "The sons and the shrines of the Christian name. "None, save thou and thine, I've sworn,
"Shall be left upon the morn:
"But thee will I bear to a lovely spot,
"Where our hands shall be join'd, and our sorrow forgot.
"There thou yet shalt be my bride,
"When once again I've quell'd the pride
"Of Venice; and her hated race
"Have felt the arm they would debase
"Scourge, with a whip of scorpions, those
"Whom vice and envy made my foes."
Upon his hand she laid her own
Light was the touch, but it thrill'd to the bone,
And shot a chillness to his heart,
Which fix'd him beyond the power to start.
Though slight was that grasp so mortal cold,
He could not loose him from its hold;
But never did clasp of one so dear
Strike on the pulse with such feeling of fear,
As those thin fingers, long and white,
Froze through his blood by their touch that night.
The feverish glow of his brow was gone,
And his heart sank so still that it felt like stone,
As he look'd on the face, and beheld its hue
So deeply changed from what he knew:
Fair but faint-without the ray
Of mind, that made each feature play
Like sparkling waves on a sunny day;
And her motionless lips lay still as death,
And her words came forth without her breath,
And there rose not a heave o'er her bosom's swell,
And there seem'd not a pulse in her veins to dwell.
Though her eye shone out, yet the lids were fix'd,
And the glance that it gave was wild and unmix'd
With aught of change, as the eyes may seem
Of the restless who walk in a troubled dream;
Like the figures on arras, that gloomily glare,
Stirr'd by the breath of the wintry air,
So seen by the dying lamp's fitful light,
Lifeless, but life-like, and awful to sight;
As they seem, through the dimness, about to come down From the shadowy wall where their images frown; Fearfully flitting to and fro,
As the gusts on the tapestry come and go. "If not for love of me be given
"Thus much, then, for the love of heaven,Again I say-that turban tear
"From off thy faithless brow, and swear
"Thine injured country's sons to spare,
"Or thou art lost; and never shalt see
Not earth-that's past-but heaven or me.
"If this thou dost accord, albeit
"A heavy doom 'tis thine to meet,
"That doom shall half absolve thy sin,
"And mercy's gate may receive thee within:
"But pause one moment more, and take
"The curse of Him thou didst forsake;
"And look once more to heaven, and see
"Its love for ever shut from thee.
"There is a light cloud by the moon— (7)
""Tis passing, and will pass
full soon-
"If, by the time its vapoury sail
"Hath ceased her shaded orb to veil,
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