Selected Poems (46 page)

And little fear from infant’s force;

Besides, adoption as a son

265

By him whom Heaven accorded none,

Or some unknown cabal, caprice,

Preserved me thus; – but not in peace:

He cannot curb his haughty mood,

Nor I forgive a father’s blood.

XVI

270

‘Within thy father’s house are foes;

Not all who break his bread are true:

To these should I my birth disclose,

His days, his very hours were few:

They only want a heart to lead,

275

A hand to point them to the deed.

But Haroun only knows or knew

This tale, whose close is almost nigh:

He in Abdallah’s palace grew,

And held that post in his Serai

280

Which holds he here – he saw him die:

But what could single slavery do?

Avenge his lord? alas! too late;

Or save his son from such a fate?

He chose the last, and when elate

285

With foes subdued, or friends betray’d,

Proud Giaffir in high triumph sate,

He led me helpless to his gate,

And not in vain it seems essay’d

To save the life for which he pray’d.

290

The knowledge of my birth secured

From all and each, but most from me;

Thus Giaffir’s safety was ensured.

Removed he too from Roumelie

To this our Asiatic side,

295

Far from our seats by Danube’s tide,

With none but Haroun, who retains

Such knowledge – and that Nubian feels

A tyrant’s secrets are but chains,

From which the captive gladly steals,

300

And this and more to me reveals:

Such still to guilt just Alla sends –

Slaves, tools, accomplices – no friends!

XVII

‘All this, Zuleika, harshly sounds;

But harsher still my tale must be:

305

Howe’er my tongue thy softness wounds,

Yet I must prove all truth to thee.

I saw thee start this garb to see,

Yet is it one I oft have worn,

And long must wear: this Galiongée,

310

To whom thy plighted vow is sworn,

Is leader of those pirate hordes,

Whose laws and lives are on their swords;

To hear whose desolating tale

Would make thy waning cheek more pale:

315

Those arms thou see’st my band have brought,

The hands that wield are not remote;

This cup too for the rugged knaves

Is fill’d – once quaff’d, they ne’er repine:

Our prophet might forgive the slaves;

320

They’re only infidels in wine.

XVIII

‘What could I be? Proscribed at home,

And taunted to a wish to roam;

And listless left – for Giaffir’s fear

Denied the courser and the spear –

325

Though oft – Oh, Mahomet! how oft! –

In full Divan the despot scoff’d,

As if
my
weak unwilling hand

Refused the bridle or the brand:

He ever went to war alone,

330

And pent me here untried – unknown;

To Haroun’s care with women left,

By hope unblest, of fame bereft,

While thou – whose softness long endear’d,

Though it unmann’d me, still had cheer’d –

335

To Brusa’s walls for safety sent,

Awaited’st there the field’s event.

Haroun, who saw my spirit pining

Beneath inaction’s sluggish yoke,

His captive, though with dread resigning,

340

My thraldom for a season broke,

On promise to return before

The day when Giaffir’s charge was o’er.

‘Tis vain – my tongue can not impart

My almost drunkenness of heart,

345

When first this liberated eye

Survey’d Earth, Ocean, Sun, and Sky,

As if my spirit pierced them through,

And all their inmost wonders knew!

One word alone can paint to thee

350

That more than feeling – I was Free!

E’en for thy presence ceased to pine;

The World – nay, Heaven itself was mine!

XIX

‘The shallop of a trusty Moor

Convey’d me from this idle shore;

355

I long’d to see the isles that gem

Old Ocean’s purple diadem:

I sought by turns, and saw them all;
¹

But when and where I join’d the crew,

With whom I’m pledged to rise or fall,

360

When all that we design to do

Is done, ’t will then be time more meet

To tell thee, when the tale’s complete.

XX

‘Tis true, they are a lawless brood,

But rough in form, nor mild in mood;

365

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;

A soul for every enterprise,

370

That never sees with Terror’s eyes;

Friendship for each, and faith to all,

And vengeance vow’d for those who fall,

Have made them fitting instruments

For more than ev’n my own intents.

375

And some - and I have studied all

Distinguish’d from the vulgar rank,

But chiefly to my council call

The wisdom of the cautious Frank –

And some to higher thoughts aspire,

380

The last of Lambro’s1 patriots there

Anticipated freedom share;

And oft around the cavern fire

On visionary schemes debate,

To snatch the Rayahs
²
from their fate.

385

So let them ease their hearts with prate

Of equal rights, which man ne’er knew;

I have a love for freedom too.

Ay! let me like the ocean-Patriarch
³
roam,

Or only know on land the Tartar’s home!
⁴

390

My tent on shore, my galley on the sea,

Are more than cities and Serais to me:

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!

395

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!

Or, since that hope denied in worlds of strife,

Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life!

400

The evening beam that smiles the clouds away,

And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray!

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,

405

That steals the trembling tear of speechless praise;

Dear – as his native song to Exile’s ears,

Shall sound each tone thy long-loved voice endears.

For thee in those bright isles is built a bower

Blooming as Aden
¹
in its earliest hour.

410

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

Wait – wave – defend – destroy – at thy command!

Girt by my band, Zuleika at my side,

The spoil of nations shall bedeck my bride.

The Haram’s languid years of listless ease

415

Are well resign’d 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,

Though fortune frown, or falser friends betray.

420

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,

425

Blend every thought, do all – but disunite!