XXV.

Escaped from shot, unharmed by steel,
Or scarcely grazed its force to feel,[ha] 1040
Had Selim won, betrayed, beset,
To where the strand and billows met;
There as his last step left the land,
And the last death-blow dealt his hand--
Ah! wherefore did he turn to look[hb]
For her his eye but sought in vain?
That pause, that fatal gaze he took,
Hath doomed his death, or fixed his chain.
Sad proof, in peril and in pain,
How late will Lover's hope remain! 1050
His back was to the dashing spray;
Behind, but close, his comrades lay,
When, at the instant, hissed the ball--
"So may the foes of Giaffir fall!"
Whose voice is heard? whose carbine rang?
Whose bullet through the night-air sang,
Too nearly, deadly aimed to err?
'Tis thine--Abdallah's Murderer!
The father slowly rued thy hate,
The son hath found a quicker fate: 1060
Fast from his breast the blood is bubbling,
The whiteness of the sea-foam troubling--
If aught his lips essayed to groan,
The rushing billows choked the tone!

XXVI.

Morn slowly rolls the clouds away;
Few trophies of the fight are there:
The shouts that shook the midnight-bay
Are silent; but some signs of fray
That strand of strife may bear,
And fragments of each shivered brand; 1070
Steps stamped; and dashed into the sand
The print of many a struggling hand
May there be marked; nor far remote
A broken torch, an oarless boat;
And tangled on the weeds that heap
The beach where shelving to the deep
There lies a white capote!
'Tis rent in twain--one dark-red stain
The wave yet ripples o'er in vain:
But where is he who wore? 1080
Ye! who would o'er his relics weep,
Go, seek them where the surges sweep
Their burthen round Sigaeum's steep
And cast on Lemnos' shore:
The sea-birds shriek above the prey,
O'er which their hungry beaks delay,[hc]
As shaken on his restless pillow,
His head heaves with the heaving billow;
That hand, whose motion is not life,[hd]
Yet feebly seems to menace strife, 1090
Flung by the tossing tide on high,
Then