fly--no more--yet now my more than
brother!
Byron
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?
XXI.
"His head and faith from doubt and death 950
Returned in time my guard to save;
Few heard, none told, that o'er the wave
From isle to isle I roved the while:
And since, though parted from my band
Too seldom now I leave the land,
No deed they've done, nor deed shall do,
Ere I have heard and doomed it too:
I form the plan--decree the spoil--
Tis fit I oftener share the toil.
But now too long I've held thine ear; 960
Time presses--floats my bark--and here
We leave behind but hate and fear.
To-morrow Osman with his train
Arrives--to-night must break thy chain:
And would'st thou save that haughty Bey,--
Perchance _his_ life who gave thee thine,--
With me this hour away--away!
But yet, though thou art plighted mine,
Would'st thou recall thy willing vow,
Appalled by truths imparted now, 970
Here rest I--not to see thee wed:
But be that peril on _my_ head! "
XXII.
Zuleika, mute and motionless,
Stood like that Statue of Distress,
When, her last hope for ever gone,
The Mother hardened into stone;
All in the maid that eye could see
Was but a younger Niobe.
But ere her lip, or even her eye,
Essayed to speak, or look reply, 980
Beneath the garden's wicket porch
Far flashed on high a blazing torch!
Another--and another--and another--[183]
"Oh!
fly--no more--yet now my more than brother! "
Far, wide, through every thicket spread
The fearful lights are gleaming red;
Nor these alone--for each right hand
Is ready with a sheathless brand.
They part--pursue--return, and wheel
With searching flambeau, shining steel; 990
And last of all, his sabre waving,
Stern Giaffir in his fury raving:
And now almost they touch the cave--
Oh! must that grot be Selim's grave?
XXIII.
Dauntless he stood--"'Tis come--soon past--
One kiss, Zuleika--'tis my last:
But yet my band not far from shore
May hear this signal, see the flash;
Yet now too few--the attempt were rash:
No matter--yet one effort more. " 1000
Forth to the cavern mouth he stept;
His pistol's echo rang on high,
Zuleika started not, nor wept,
Despair benumbed her breast and eye! --
"They hear me not, or if they ply
Their oars,'tis but to see me die;
That sound hath drawn my foes more nigh.
Then forth my father's scimitar,
Thou ne'er hast seen less equal war!
Farewell, Zuleika! --Sweet! retire: 1010
Yet stay within--here linger safe,
At thee his rage will only chafe.
Stir not--lest even to thee perchance
Some erring blade or ball should glance.
Fear'st them for him? --may I expire
If in this strife I seek thy sire!
No--though by him that poison poured;
No--though again he call me coward!