"'Tis true, they are a lawless brood,

But rough in form, nor mild in mood;

And every creed, and every race,

With them hath found—may find a place:

But open speech, and ready hand,

Obedience to their Chief's command; 850

A soul for every enterprise,

That never sees with Terror's eyes;

Friendship for each, and faith to all,

And vengeance vowed for those who fall,

Have made them fitting instruments

For more than e'en my own intents.

And some—and I have studied all

Distinguished from the vulgar rank,

But chiefly to my council call

The wisdom of the cautious Frank:— 860

And some to higher thoughts aspire.

The last of Lambro's[171] patriots there

Anticipated freedom share;

And oft around the cavern fire

On visionary schemes debate,

To snatch the Rayahs[172] from their fate.

So let them ease their hearts with prate

Of equal rights, which man ne'er knew;

I have a love for freedom too.

Aye! let me like the ocean-Patriarch[173] roam, 870

Or only know on land the Tartar's home![174]

My tent on shore, my galley on the sea,

Are more than cities and Serais to me:[175]

Borne by my steed, or wafted by my sail,

Across the desert, or before the gale,

Bound where thou wilt, my barb! or glide, my prow!

But be the Star that guides the wanderer, Thou!

Thou, my Zuleika, share and bless my bark;

The Dove of peace and promise to mine ark![176]

Or, since that hope denied in worlds of strife, 880

Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life!

The evening beam that smiles the clouds away,

And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray![177]

Blest—as the Muezzin's strain from Mecca's wall

To pilgrims pure and prostrate at his call;

Soft—as the melody of youthful days,

That steals the trembling tear of speechless praise;

Dear—as his native song to Exile's ears,[gr]

Shall sound each tone thy long-loved voice endears.

For thee in those bright isles is built a bower 890

Blooming as Aden[178] in its earliest hour.

A thousand swords, with Selim's heart and hand,

Wait—wave—defend—destroy—at thy command![gs]

Girt by my band, Zuleika at my side,

The spoil of nations shall bedeck my bride.

The Haram's languid years of listless ease

Are well resigned for cares—for joys like these:

Not blind to Fate, I see, where'er I rove,

Unnumbered perils,—but one only love!

Yet well my toils shall that fond breast repay, 900

Though Fortune frown, or falser friends betray.

How dear the dream in darkest hours of ill,

Should all be changed, to find thee faithful still!

Be but thy soul, like Selim's firmly shown;

To thee be Selim's tender as thine own;

To soothe each sorrow, share in each delight,[gt]

Blend every thought, do all—but disunite!

Once free, 'tis mine our horde again to guide;

Friends to each other, foes to aught beside:[179]

Yet there we follow but the bent assigned 910

By fatal Nature to man's warring kind:[gu]

Mark! where his carnage and his conquests cease!

He makes a solitude, and calls it—peace![gv] [180]

I like the rest must use my skill or strength,

But ask no land beyond my sabre's length:

Power sways but by division—her resource[gw]

The blest alternative of fraud or force!

Ours be the last; in time Deceit may come

When cities cage us in a social home:

There ev'n thy soul might err—how oft the heart 920

Corruption shakes which Peril could not part!

And Woman, more than Man, when Death or Woe,

Or even Disgrace, would lay her lover low,

Sunk in the lap of Luxury will shame—

Away suspicion!—not Zuleika's name!

But life is hazard at the best; and here

No more remains to win, and much to fear:

Yes, fear!—the doubt, the dread of losing thee,

By Osman's power, and Giaffir's stern decree.

That dread shall vanish with the favouring gale, 930

Which Love to-night hath promised to my sail:[gx]

No danger daunts the pair his smile hath blest,

Their steps still roving, but their hearts at rest.

With thee all toils are sweet, each clime hath charms;

Earth—sea alike—our world within our arms!

Aye—let the loud winds whistle o'er the deck,[181]

So that those arms cling closer round my neck:

The deepest murmur of this lip shall be,[gy] [182]

No sigh for safety, but a prayer for thee!

The war of elements no fears impart 940

To Love, whose deadliest bane is human Art:

There lie the only rocks our course can check;

Here moments menace—there are years of wreck!

But hence ye thoughts that rise in Horror's shape!

This hour bestows, or ever bars escape.[gz]

Few words remain of mine my tale to close;

Of thine but one to waft us from our foes;

Yea—foes—to me will Giaffir's hate decline?

And is not Osman, who would part us, thine?