No More Learning

[285]

Their words though faint were many--from the tone
Their import those who heard could judge alone; 1100
From this, you might have deemed young Kaled's death
More near than Lara's by his voice and breath,
So sad--so deep--and hesitating broke
The accents his scarce-moving pale lips spoke;[kv]
But Lara's voice, though low, at first was clear
And calm, till murmuring Death gasped hoarsely near;
But from his visage little could we guess,
So unrepentant--dark--and passionless,[kw]
Save that when struggling nearer to his last,
Upon that page his eye was kindly cast; 1110
And once, as Kaled's answering accents ceased,
Rose Lara's hand, and pointed to the East:
Whether (as then the breaking Sun from high
Rolled back the clouds) the morrow caught his eye,
Or that 'twas chance--or some remembered scene,
That raised his arm to point where such had been,
Scarce Kaled seemed to know, but turned away,
As if his heart abhorred that coming day,
And shrunk his glance before that morning light,
To look on Lara's brow--where all grew night. 1120
Yet sense seemed left, though better were its loss;
For when one near displayed the absolving Cross,
And proffered to his touch the holy bead,
Of which his parting soul might own the need,
He looked upon it with an eye profane,
And smiled--Heaven pardon! if 'twere with disdain:
And Kaled, though he spoke not, nor withdrew
From Lara's face his fixed despairing view,
With brow repulsive, and with gesture swift,
Flung back the hand which held the sacred gift, 1130
As if such but disturbed the expiring man,
Nor seemed to know his life but _then_ began--
That Life of Immortality, secure[kx]
To none, save them whose faith in Christ is sure.

XX.

But gasping heaved the breath that Lara drew,[ky]
And dull the film along his dim eye grew;
His limbs stretched fluttering, and his head drooped o'er
The weak yet still untiring knee that bore;
He pressed the hand he held upon his heart--
It beats no more, but Kaled will not part 1140
With the cold grasp, but feels, and feels in vain,
For that faint throb which answers not again.
"It beats! "--Away, thou dreamer! he is gone--
It once _was_ Lara which thou look'st upon.

XXI.

He gazed, as if not yet had passed away[kz]
The haughty spirit of that humbled clay;
And those around have roused him from his trance,
But cannot tear from thence his fixed glance;
And when, in raising him from where he bore
Within his arms the form that felt no more, 1150
He saw the head his breast would still sustain,
Roll down like earth to earth upon the plain;
He did not dash himself thereby, nor tear
The glossy tendrils of his raven hair,
But strove to stand and gaze, but reeled and fell,
Scarce breathing more than that he loved so well.
Than that _he_ loved! Oh! never yet beneath
The breast of _man_ such trusty love may breathe!
That trying moment hath at once revealed
The secret long and yet but half concealed; 1160
In baring to revive that lifeless breast,
Its grief seemed ended, but the sex confessed;
And life returned, and Kaled felt no shame--
What now to her was Womanhood or Fame?

XXII.
And Lara sleeps not where his fathers sleep,
But where he died his grave was dug as deep;
Nor is his mortal slumber less profound,
Though priest nor blessed nor marble decked the mound,
And he was mourned by one whose quiet grief,
Less loud, outlasts a people's for their Chief. 1170
Vain was all question asked her of the past,
And vain e'en menace--silent to the last;
She told nor whence, nor why she left behind
Her all for one who seemed but little kind.
Why did she love him? Curious fool! --be still--
Is human love the growth of human will?
To her he might be gentleness; the stern
Have deeper thoughts than your dull eyes discern,
And when they love, your smilers guess not how
Beats the strong heart, though less the lips avow. 1180
They were not common links, that formed the chain
That bound to Lara Kaled's heart and brain;
But that wild tale she brooked not to unfold,
And sealed is now each lip that could have told.

XXIII.

They laid him in the earth, and on his breast,
Besides the wound that sent his soul to rest,
They found the scattered dints of many a scar,
Which were not planted there in recent war;
Where'er had passed his summer years of life,
It seems they vanished in a land of strife; 1190
But all unknown his Glory or his Guilt,[la]
These only told that somewhere blood was spilt,
And Ezzelin, who might have spoke the past,
Returned no more--that night appeared his last.

XXIV.

Upon that night (a peasant's is the tale)
A Serf that crossed the intervening vale,[286]
When Cynthia's light almost gave way to morn,
And nearly veiled in mist her waning horn;
A Serf, that rose betimes to thread the wood,
And hew the bough that bought his children's food, 1200
Passed by the river that divides the plain
Of Otho's lands and Lara's broad domain:
He heard a tramp--a horse and horseman broke
From out the wood--before him was a cloak
Wrapt round some burthen at his saddle-bow,
Bent was his head, and hidden was his brow.
Roused by the sudden sight at such a time,
And some foreboding that it might be crime,
Himself unheeded watched the stranger's course,
Who reached the river, bounded from his horse, 1210
And lifting thence the burthen which he bore,
Heaved up the bank, and dashed it from the shore,
Then paused--and looked--and turned--and seemed to watch,
And still another hurried glance would snatch,
And follow with his step the stream that flowed,
As if even yet too much its surface showed;
At once he started--stooped--around him strown
The winter floods had scattered heaps of stone:
Of these the heaviest thence he gathered there,
And slung them with a more than common care. 1220
Meantime the Serf had crept to where unseen
Himself might safely mark what this might mean;
He caught a glimpse, as of a floating breast,
And something glittered starlike on the vest;
But ere he well could mark the buoyant trunk,
A massy fragment smote it, and it sunk:[lb]
It rose again, but indistinct to view,
And left the waters of a purple hue,
Then deeply disappeared: the horseman gazed
Till ebbed the latest eddy it had raised; 1230
Then turning, vaulted on his pawing steed,
And instant spurred him into panting speed.
His face was masked--the features of the dead,
If dead it were, escaped the observer's dread;
But if in sooth a Star its bosom bore,
Such is the badge that Knighthood ever wore,
And such 'tis known Sir Ezzelin had worn
Upon the night that led to such a morn.
If thus he perished, Heaven receive his soul!
His undiscovered limbs to ocean roll; 1240
And charity upon the hope would dwell
It was not Lara's hand by which he fell.