No More Learning

I have no thought to mock his throne with prayer
Wrung from the coward crouching of Despair;
It is enough--I breathe--and I can bear.
My sword is shaken from the worthless hand
That might have better kept so true a brand; 1090
My bark is sunk or captive--but my Love--
For her in sooth my voice would mount above:
Oh! she is all that still to earth can bind--
And this will break a heart so more than kind,
And blight a form--till thine appeared, Gulnare!
Mine eye ne'er asked if others were as fair. "

"Thou lov'st another then? --but what to me
Is this--'tis nothing--nothing e'er can be:
But yet--thou lov'st--and--Oh! I envy those
Whose hearts on hearts as faithful can repose, 1100
Who never feel the void--the wandering thought
That sighs o'er visions--such as mine hath wrought. "

"Lady--methought thy love was his, for whom
This arm redeemed thee from a fiery tomb. "

"My love stern Seyd's! Oh--No--No--not my love--
Yet much this heart, that strives no more, once strove
To meet his passion--but it would not be.
I felt--I feel--Love dwells with--with the free.
I am a slave, a favoured slave at best,
To share his splendour, and seem very blest! 1110
Oft must my soul the question undergo,
Of--'Dost thou love? ' and burn to answer, 'No! '
Oh!
hard it is that fondness to sustain,
And struggle not to feel averse in vain;
But harder still the heart's recoil to bear,
And hide from one--perhaps another there.
He takes the hand I give not--nor withhold--
Its pulse nor checked--nor quickened--calmly cold:
And when resigned, it drops a lifeless weight
From one I never loved enough to hate. 1120
No warmth these lips return by his imprest,
And chilled Remembrance shudders o'er the rest.
Yes--had I ever proved that Passion's zeal,
The change to hatred were at least to feel:
But still--he goes unmourned--returns unsought--
And oft when present--absent from my thought.
Or when Reflection comes--and come it must--
I fear that henceforth 'twill but bring disgust;
I am his slave--but, in despite of pride,
'Twere worse than bondage to become his bride. 1130
Oh! that this dotage of his breast would cease!
Or seek another and give mine release,
But yesterday--I could have said, to peace!
Yes, if unwonted fondness now I feign,[hv]
Remember--Captive! 'tis to break thy chain;
Repay the life that to thy hand I owe;
To give thee back to all endeared below,
Who share such love as I can never know.
Farewell--Morn breaks--and I must now away:
'Twill cost me dear--but dread no death to-day! " 1140

XV.

She pressed his fettered fingers to her heart,
And bowed her head, and turned her to depart,
And noiseless as a lovely dream is gone.
And was she here? and is he now alone?
What gem hath dropped and sparkles o'er his chain?