e ray within, but nothing more.
With hasty step a figure outward passed,
Then paused, and turned--and paused--'tis She at last!
No poniard in that hand, nor sign of ill--
"Thanks to that softening heart--she could not kill!"
Again he looked, the wildness of her eye
Starts from the day abrupt and fearfully.
She stopped--threw back her dark far-floating hair,
That nearly veiled her face and bosom fair,
As if she late had bent her leaning head 1580
Above some object of her doubt or dread.
They meet--upon her brow--unknown--forgot--
Her hurrying hand had left--'twas but a spot--
Its hue was all he saw, and scarce withstood--
Oh! slight but certain pledge of crime--'tis Blood!

X.

He had seen battle--he had brooded lone
O'er promised pangs to sentenced Guilt foreshown;
He had been tempted--chastened--and the chain
Yet on his arms might ever there remain:
But ne'er from strife--captivity--remorse-- 1590
From all his feelings in their inmost force--
So thrilled, so shuddered every creeping vein,
As now they froze before that purple stain.
That spot of blood, that light but guilty streak,
Had banished all the beauty from her cheek!
Blood he had viewed--could view unmoved--but then
It flowed in combat, or was shed by men![id]

XI.

"'Tis done--he nearly waked--but it is done.
Corsair! he perished--thou art dearly won.
All words would now be vain--away--away! 1600
Our bark is tossing--'tis already day.
The few gained over, now are wholly mine,
And these thy yet surviving band shall join:
Anon my voice shall vindicate my hand,
When once our sail forsakes this hated strand."

XII.

She clapped her hands, and through the gallery pour,
Equipped for flight, her vassals--Greek and Moor;
Silent but quick they stoop, his chains unbind;
Once more his limbs are free as mountain wind!
But on his heavy heart such sadness sate, 1610
As if they there transferred that iron weight.
No words are uttered--at her sign, a door
Reveals the secret passage to the shore;
The city lies behind--they speed, they reach
The glad waves dancing on the yellow beach;
And Conrad following, at her beck, obeyed,