XVIII.

The few who yet survived, resolute and firm, Around me fought. At the decline of day, Winding above the mountain's snowy term, New banners shone : they quivered in the ray Of the sun's unseen orb-ere night the array Offresh troops hemmed us in-of those brave bands I soon survived alone-and now I lay Vanquished and faint, the grasp of bloody hands I felt, and saw on high the glare of falling brands;

XIX.

When on my foes a sudden terror came, And they fled, scattering.-Lo! with reinless speed A black Tartarian horse of giant frame Comes trampling o'er the dead; the living bleed Beneath the hoofs of that tremendous steed, On which, like to an angel, robed in white, Sate one waving a sword; the hosts recede And fly, as through their ranks, with awful might, Sweeps in the shadow of eve that Phantom swift and bright;

XX.

And its path made a solitude.-I rose

And marked its coming; it relaxed its course As it approached me, and the wind that flows [force Through night, bore accents to mine ear whose Might create smiles in death.--The Tartar horse Paused, and I saw the shape its might which swayed, And heard her musical pants, like the sweet source Of waters in the desert, as she said, "Mount with me, Laon, now "- I rapidly obeyed.

XXI.

Then "Away! away!" she cried, and stretched her As 'twere a scourge over the courser's head, [sword And lightly shook the reins.-We spake no word, But like the vapour of the tempest fled Over the plain; her dark hair was dispread, Like the pine's locks upon the lingering blast; Over mine eyes its shadowy strings it spread Fitfully, and the hills and streams fled fast, As o'er their glimmering forms the steed's broad shadow past;

XXII.

And his hoofs ground the rocks to fire and dust, His strong sides made the torrents rise in spray, And turbulence, as if a whirlwind's gust Surrounded us ;-and still away! away! Through the desert night we sped, while she alway Gazed on a mountain which we neared, whose crest Crowned with a marble ruin, in the ray

Of the obscure stars gleamed ;-its rugged breast The steed strained up, and then his impulse did

arrest.

XXIII.

A rocky hill which overhung the Ocean :From that lone ruin, when the steed that panted Paused, might be heard the murmur of the motion Of waters, as in spots for ever haunted By the choicest winds of Heaven, which are enTo music by the wand of Solitude, [chanted That wizard wild, and the far tents implanted Upon the plain, be seen by those who stood Thence marking the dark shore of Ocean's curved flood.

XXIV.

One moment these were heard and seen-another Past; and the two who stood beneath that night, Each only heard, or saw, or felt, the other; As from the lofty steed she did alight, Cythna (for, from the eyes whose deepest light Of love and sadness made my lips feel pale With influence strange of mournfullest delight, My own sweet Cythna looked), with joy did quail, And felt her strength in tears of human weakness fail.

XXV.

And for a space in my embrace she rested, Her head on my unquiet heart reposing, While my faint arms her languid frame invested: At length she looked on me, and half unclosing Her tremulous lips, said: "Friend, thy bands were The battle, as I stood before the King [losing In bonds. I burst them then, and swiftly choosing The time, did seize a Tartar's sword, and spring Upon his horse, and swift as on the whirlwind's wing,

XXVI.

"Have thou and I been borne beyond pursuer, And we are here."-Then, turning to the steed, She pressed the white moon on his front with pure And rose-like lips, and many a fragrant weed From the green ruin plucked, that he might feed ;But I to a stone seat that Maiden led,

And kissing her fair eyes, said, "Thou hast need Of rest," and I heaped up the courser's bed In a green mossy nook, with mountain flowers dispread.

XXVII.

Within that ruin, where a shattered portal Looks to the eastern stars, abandoned now By man, to be the home of things immortal, Memories, like awful ghosts which come and go, And must inherit all he builds below, When he is gone, a hall stood; o'er whose roof Fair clinging weeds with ivy pale did grow, Clasping its grey rents with a verdurous woof, A hanging dome of leaves, a canopy moon-proof.

XXVIII.

The autumnal winds, as if spell-bound, had made A natural couch of leaves in that recess, Which seasons none disturbed, but in the shade Of flowering parasites, did spring love to dress With their sweet blooms the wintry loneliness Of those dead leaves, shedding their stars, whene'er The wandering wind her nurslings might caress; Whose intertwining fingers ever there, Made music wild and soft that filled the listening air.

XXIX.

We know not where we go, or what sweet dream May pilot us through caverns strange and fair Of far and pathless passion, while the stream Of life our bark doth on its whirlpools bear, Spreading swift wings as sails to the dim air; Nor should we seek to know, so the devotion Of love and gentle thoughts be heard still there Louder and louder from the utmost Ocean Of universal life, attuning its commotion.

XLII.

The tones of Cythna's voice like echoes were Of those far murmuring streams; they rose and fell, Mixed with mine own in the tempestuous air,And so we sate, until our talk befel Of the late ruin, swift and horrible, And how those seeds of hope might yet be sown, Whose fruit is evil's mortal poison: well For us, this ruin made a watch-tower lone, But Cythna's eyes looked faint, and now two days were gone

XLIII.

Since she had food:-therefore I did awaken
The Tartar steed, who, from his ebon mane,
Soon as the clinging slumbers he had shaken,
Bent his thin head to seek the brazen rein,
Following me obediently; with pain

Of heart, so deep and dread, that one caress,
When lips and heart refuse to part again,
Till they have told their fill, could scarce express
The anguish of her mute and fearful tenderness,

XLIV.

Cythna beheld me part, as I bestrode
That willing steed-the tempest and the night,
Which gave my path its safety as I rode
Down the ravine of rocks, did soon unite
The darkness and the tumult of their might
Borne on all winds.-Far through the streaming
rain

Floating at intervals the garments white

Of Cythna gleamed, and her voice once again Came to me on the gust, and soon I reached the plain.

XLV.

I dreaded not the tempest, nor did he
Who bore me, but his eyeballs wide and red
Turned on the lightning's cleft exultingly;
And when the earth beneath his tameless tread,
Shook with the sullen thunder, he would spread
His nostrils to the blast, and joyously

Mock the fierce peal with neighings;-thus we sped O'er the lit plain, and soon I could descry Where Death and Fire had gorged the spoil of victory.

XLVI.

There was a desolate village in a wood, Whose bloom-inwoven leaves now scattering fed The hungry storm; it was a place of blood, A heap of hearthless walls;-the flames were dead Within those dwellings now,-the life had fled From all those corpses now, but the wide sky Flooded with lightning was ribbed overhead By the black rafters, and around did lie Women, and babes, and men, slaughtered confusedly.

XLVII.

Beside the fountain in the market-place
Dismounting, I beheld those corpses stare
With horny eyes upon each other's face,
And on the earth and on the vacant air,
And upon me, close to the waters where

I stooped to slake my thirst;-I shrank to taste,
For the salt bitterness of blood was there!
But tied the steed beside, and sought in haste
If any yet survived amid that ghastly waste.

XLVIII.

No living thing was there beside one woman, Whom I found wandering in the streets, and she Was withered from a likeness of aught human Into a fiend, by some strange misery: Soon as she heard my steps she leaped on me, And glued her burning lips to mine, and laughed With a loud, long, and frantic laugh of glee, And cried," Now, Mortal, thou hast deeply quaffed The Plague's blue kisses-soon millions shall pledge the draught!

XLIX.

"My name is Pestilence-this bosom dry Once fed two babes-a sister and a brotherWhen I came home, one in the blood did lie Of three death-wounds--the flames had ate the Since then I have no longer been a mother, [other! But I am Pestilence;-hither and thither I flit about, that I may slay and smother;All lips which I have kissed must surely wither, But Death's-if thou art he, we'll go to work together!

L.

"What seekest thou here? the moonlight comes in The dew is rising dankly from the dell; [flashes,"Twill moisten her! and thou shalt see the gashes In my sweet boy-now full of worms-but tell First what thou seek'st."-"I seek for food.""'Tis well,

Thou shalt have food; Famine, my paramour, Waits for us at the feast-cruel and fell Is Famine, but he drives not from his door Those whom these lips have kissed, alone. more, no more!"

LI.

No