For, from the utmost realms of earth, came pouring The banded slaves whom every despot sent At that throned traitor's summons; like the roaring Of fire, whose floods the wild deer circumveni In the scorch'd pastures of the South; so bent The armies of the leagued kings around Their files of steel and flame ;-the continent Trembled, as with a zone of ruin bound, Beneath their feet, the sea shook with their Navies' sound.

V.

From every nation of the earth they came, The multitude of moving heartless things, Whom slaves call men: obediently they came, Like sheep whom from the fold the shepherd brings To the stall, red with blood; their many kings Led them, thus erring, from their native home; Tartar and Frank, and millions whom the wings Of Indian breezes lull, and many a band The Arctic Anarch sent, and Idumea's sand,

VI.

Fertile in prodigies and lies--so there Strange natures made a brotherhood of ill. The desert savage ceased to grasp in fear His Asian shield and bow, when, at the will Of Europe's subtler son, the bolt would kill Some shepherd sitting on a rock secure; But smiles of wondering joy his face would fill, And savage sympathy: those slaves impure, Each one the other thus from ill to ill did lure.

VII.

For traitorously did that foul Tyrant robe
His countenance in lies,-even at the hour
When he was snatch'd. from death, then o'er the

globe,

With secret signs from many a mountain tower,
With smoke by day, and fire by night, the power
Of kings and priests, those dark conspirators
He call'd-they knew his cause their own, and

swore

Like wolves and serpents, to their mutual wars Strange truce, with many a rite which Earth and

Heaven abhors.

VIII.

Myriads had come-millions were on their way; The Tyrant past, surrounded by the steel Of hired assassins, through the public way, Choked with his country's dead:-his footsteps reel On the fresh blood-he smiles, "Ay, now I feel I am a King in truth!" he said, and took His royal seat, and bade the torturing wheel Be brought, and fire, and pincers, and the hook, And scorpions; that his soul on its revenge might look

IX.

But first, go slay the rebels-why return The victor bands?" he said, "millions yet live, Of whom the weakest with one word might turn The scales of victory yet;-let none survive But those within the walls-each fifth shall give The expiation for his brethren here.-

Go forth, and waste and kill!"-"O king, forgive My speech," a soldier answer'd-" but we fear The spirits of the night, and morn is drawing near;

"O King of Glory! thou alone hast power!
Who can resist thy will? who can restrain
Thy wrath, when on the guilty thou dost shower
The shafts of thy revenge, a blistering rain!
Greatest and best, be merciful again!
Have we not stabb'd thine enemies, and made
The Earth an altar, and the Heavens a fane,
Where thou wert worshipp'd with their blood, and
laid

Those hearts in dust which would thy searchless
works have weigh'd?
i XXIX.

Well didst thou loosen on this impious City Thine angels of revenge: recall them now; Thy worshippers, abased, here kneel for pity, And bind their souls by an immortal.vow: We swear by thee! and to our oath do thou Give sanction, from thine hell of fiends and flame, That we will kill with fire and torments slow, The last of those who mock'd thy holy name, And scorn'd the sacred laws thy prophets did proclaim."

XXX.

Thus they with trembling limbs and pallid lips Worshipp'd their own hearts' image, dim and vast, Scared by the shade wherewith they would eclipse The light of other minds;-troubled they past From the great Temple ;-fiercely still and fast The arrows of the plague among them fell, And they on one another gazed aghast, And through the hosts contention wild befell, As each of his own god the wondrous works did tell

XXXI.

And Oromaze, Joshua, and Mahomet, Moses, and Buddh, Zerdusht, and Brahm, and Foh, A tumult of strange names, which never met Before, as watch-words of a single woe, Arose; each raging votary 'gan to throw Aloft his armed hands, and each did howl "Our God alone is God!" and slaughter now Would have gone forth, when from beneath a cow! A voice came forth, which pierced like ice through every soul.

XXXII.

"T was an Iberian Priest from whom it came, A zealous man, who led the legion'd west With words which faith and pride had steep'd in

flame,

To quell the unbelievers; a dire guest Even to his friends was he, for in his breast Did hate and guile lie watchful, intertwined, Twin serpents in one deep and winding nest; He lothed all faith beside his own, and pined To wreak his fear of Heaven in vengeance on mankind.

XXXIII.

But more he lothed and hated the clear light Of wisdom and free thought, and more did fear, Lest, kindled once, its beams might pierce the night, Even where his Idol stood; for, far and near Did many a heart in Europe leap to hear That faith and tyranny were trampled down; Many a pale victim, doom'd for truth to share The murderer's cell, or see, with helpless groan, The priests his children drag for slaves to serve their

own.

XL.

His voice was like a blast that burst the portal
Of fabled hell; and as he spake, each one
Saw gape beneath the chasms of fire immortal,
And Heaven above seem'd cloven, where, on a
throne

Girt round with storms and shadows, sate alone,
Their King and Judge-fear kill'd in every breast
All natural pity then, a fear unknown
Before, and with an inward fire possest,
They raged like homeless beasts whom burning
woods invest.

XLI.

"Twas morn-at noon the public crier went forth, Proclaiming through the living and the dead, "The Monarch saith, that this great Empire's worth Is set on Laon and Laone's head:

He who but one yet living here can lead,

Or who the life from both their hearts can wring, Shall be the kingdom's heir, a glorious meed! But he who both alive can hither bring, The Princess shall espouse, and reign an equal King." XLII.

Ere night the pyre was piled, the net of iron Was spread above, the fearful couch below, It overtopp'd the towers that did environ That spacious square; for Fear is never slow To build the thrones of Hate, her mate and foe, So, she scourged forth the maniac multitude To rear this pyramid-tottering and slow, Plague-stricken, foodless, like lean herds pursued By gad-flies, they have piled the heath, and gums, and wood.

Morn came, among those sleepless multitudes, Madness, and Fear, and Plague, and Famine still Heap'd corpse on corpse, as in autumnal woods The frosts of many a wind with dead leaves fill Earth's cold and sullen brooks; in silence, still The pale survivors stood; ere noon, the fear Of Hell became a panic, which did kill Like hunger or disease, with whispers drear, As "Hush! hark! Come they yet? Just Heaven! thine hour is near!" XLY.

And Priests rush'd through their ranks, some counterfeiting

The rage they did inspire, some mad indeed
With their own lies; they said their god was waiting
To see his enemies writhe, and burn, and bleed,-
And that, till then, the snakes of Hell had need
Of human souls:-three hundred furnaces
Soon blazed through the wide City, where with
speed,

Men brought their infidel kindred to appease God's wrath, and while they burn'd, knelt round on quivering knees.

XLVI.

The noontide sun was darken'd with that smoke, The winds of eve dispersed those ashes gray, The madness which these rites had lull'd, awoke Again at sunset.-Who shall dare to say

The deeds which night and fear brought forth, or weigh

In balance just the good and evil there?

He might man's deep and searchless heart display, And cast a light on those dim labyrinths, where Hope, near imagined chasms, is struggling with despair.

XLVII.

"Tis said, a mother dragg'd three children then, To those fierce flames which roast the eyes in the head,

And laugh'd and died; and that unholy men, Feasting like fiends upon the infidel dead, Look'd from their meal, and saw an Angel tread The visible floor of Heaven, and it was she! And, on that night, one without doubt or dread Came to the fire, and said, "Stop, I am he! Kill me!" they burn'd them both with hellish mockery.

XLVIII.

And, one by one, that night, young maidens came, Beauteous and calm, like shapes of living stone Clothed in the light of dreams, and by the flame Which shrank as overgorged, they laid them down, And sung a slow sweet song, of which alone One word was heard, and that was Liberty; And that some kiss'd their marble feet, with moan Like love, and died, and then that they did die With happy smiles, which sunk in white tranquillity.

CANTO XI.

I.

SHE saw me not-she heard me not-alone
Upon the mountain's dizzy brink she stood;
She spake not, breathed not, moved not-there

was thrown

Over her look, the shadow of a mood
Which only clothes the heart in solitude,

A thought of voiceless depth;-she stood alone; Above, the Heavens were spread ;-below, the flood Was murmuring in its caves;-the wind had blown Her hair apart, through which her eyes and forehead

shone.

II.

A cloud was hanging o'er the western mountains; Before its blue and moveless depth were flying Gray mists pour'd forth from the unresting fountains Of darkness in the North :--the day was dying:Sudden, the sun shone forth, its beams were lying Like boiling gold on Ocean, strange to see, And on the shatter'd vapors, which defying The power of light in vain, toss'd restlessly In the red Heaven, like wrecks in a tempestuous sea.

III.

It was a stream of living beams, whose bank On either side by the cloud's cleft was made; And where its chasms that flood of glory drank, Its waves gush'd forth like fire, and as if sway'd By some mute tempest, roll'd on her; the shade Of her bright image floated on the river Of liquid light, which then did end and fadeHer radiant shape upon its verge did shiver; Aloft, her flowing hair like strings of flame did quiver.

IV.

I stood beside her, but she saw me notShe look'd upon the sea, and skies, and earth; Rapture, and love, and admiration wrought A passion deeper far than tears, or mirth, Or speech, or gesture, or whate'er has birth From common joy; which, with the speechless feeling That led her there united, and shot forth From her far eyes, a light of deep revealing All but her dearest self from my regard concealing.

V.

Her lips were parted, and the measured breath Was now heard there;-her dark and intricate eyes Orb within orb, deeper than sleep or death, Absorb'd the glories of the burning skies, Which, mingling with her heart's deep ecstasies, Burst from her looks and gestures—and a light Of liquid tenderness like love, did rise From her whole frame, an atmosphere which quite Array'd her in its beams, tremulous and soft and bright

VI.

She would have clasp'd me to her glowing frame Those warm and odorous lips might soon have shed On mine the fragrance and the invisible flame Which now the cold winds stole;-she would have laid

Upon my languid heart her dearest head; I might have heard her voice, tender and sweet Her eyes mingling with mine, might soon have fed My soul with their own joy.-One moment yel I gazed-we parted then, never again to meet!

VII.

Never but once to meet on Earth again! She heard me as I fled-her eager tone Sunk on my heart, and almost wove a chain Around my will to link it with her own. So that my stern resolve was almost gone. "I cannot reach thee! whither dost thou fly My steps are faint-Come back, thon dearest oneReturn, ah me! return"-the wind past by On which those accents died, faint, far, and lingeringly

VIII.