Laurel · Lord Byron · The Giaour, and Other Poems

The Corsair: Canto III

Lord Byron (1788–1824) · 1816

iambic pentameter · heroic couplets · 696 lines · from The Giaour, and Other Poems

Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run,Along Morea's hills the setting Sun;Not, as in Northern climes, obscurely bright,But one unclouded blaze of living light!O'er the hushed deep the yellow beam he throws,Gilds the green wave, that trembles as it glows.On old AEgina's rock, and Idra's isle,The God of gladness sheds his parting smile;O'er his own regions lingering, loves to shine,Though there his altars are no more divine.Descending fast the mountain shadows kissThy glorious gulf, unconquered Salamis!Their azure arches through the long expanseMore deeply purpled met his mellowing glance,And tenderest tints, along their summits driven,Mark his gay course, and own the hues of Heaven;Till, darkly shaded from the land and deep,Behind his Delphian cliff he sinks to sleep.

On such an eve, his palest beam he cast,When--Athens! here thy Wisest looked his last.How watched thy better sons his farewell ray,That closed their murdered Sage's latest day!Not yet--not yet--Sol pauses on the hill--The precious hour of parting lingers still;But sad his light to agonising eyes,And dark the mountain's once delightful dyes:Gloom o'er the lovely land he seemed to pour,The land, where Phoebus never frowned before:But ere he sunk below Cithaeron's head,The cup of woe was quaffed--the Spirit fled;The Soul of him who scorned to fear or fly--Who lived and died, as none can live or die!

But lo! from high Hymettus to the plain,The Queen of night asserts her silent reign.No murky vapour, herald of the storm,Hides her fair face, nor girds her glowing form;With cornice glimmering as the moon-beams play,There the white column greets her grateful ray,And bright around with quivering beams beset,Her emblem sparkles o'er the Minaret:The groves of olive scattered dark and wideWhere meek Cephisus pours his scanty tide;The cypress saddening by the sacred Mosque,The gleaming turret of the gay Kiosk;And, dun and sombre 'mid the holy calm,Near Theseus' fane yon solitary palm,All tinged with varied hues arrest the eye--And dull were his that passed him heedless by.

Again the AEgean, heard no more afar,Lulls his chafed breast from elemental war;Again his waves in milder tints unfoldTheir long array of sapphire and of gold,Mixed with the shades of many a distant isle,That frown--where gentler Ocean seems to smile.

Not now my theme--why turn my thoughts to thee?Oh! who can look along thy native sea,Nor dwell upon thy name, whate'er the tale,So much its magic must o'er all prevail?Who that beheld that Sun upon thee set,Fair Athens! could thine evening face forget?Not he--whose heart nor time nor distance frees,Spell-bound within the clustering Cyclades!Nor seems this homage foreign to its strain,His Corsair's isle was once thine own domain--Would that with freedom it were thine again!

The Sun hath sunk--and, darker than the night,Sinks with its beam upon the beacon heightMedora's heart--the third day's come and gone--With it he comes not--sends not--faithless one!The wind was fair though light! and storms were none.Last eve Anselmo's bark returned, and yetHis only tidings that they had not met!Though wild, as now, far different were the taleHad Conrad waited for that single sail.The night-breeze freshens--she that day had passedIn watching all that Hope proclaimed a mast;Sadly she sate on high--Impatience boreAt last her footsteps to the midnight shore,And there she wandered, heedless of the sprayThat dashed her garments oft, and warned away:She saw not, felt not this--nor dared depart,Nor deemed it cold--her chill was at her heart;Till grew such certainty from that suspense--His very Sight had shocked from life or sense!

It came at last--a sad and shattered boat,Whose inmates first beheld whom first they sought;Some bleeding--all most wretched--these the few--Scarce knew they how escaped--this all they knew.In silence, darkling, each appeared to waitHis fellow's mournful guess at Conrad's fate:Something they would have said; but seemed to fearTo trust their accents to Medora's ear.She saw at once, yet sunk not--trembled not--Beneath that grief, that loneliness of lot,Within that meek fair form, were feelings high,That deemed not till they found their energy.While yet was Hope they softened, fluttered, wept--All lost--that Softness died not--but it slept;And o'er its slumber rose that Strength which said,"With nothing left to love, there's nought to dread."'Tis more than Nature's--like the burning mightDelirium gathers from the fever's height.

"Silent you stand--nor would I hear you tellWhat--speak not--breathe not--for I know it well--Yet would I ask--almost my lip deniesThe--quick your answer--tell me where he lies."

"Lady! we know not--scarce with life we fled;But here is one denies that he is dead:He saw him bound; and bleeding--but alive."

She heard no further--'twas in vain to strive--So throbbed each vein--each thought--till then withstood;Her own dark soul--these words at once subdued:She totters--falls--and senseless had the wavePerchance but snatched her from another grave;But that with hands though rude, yet weeping eyes,They yield such aid as Pity's haste supplies:hwDash o'er her deathlike cheek the ocean dew,Raise, fan, sustain--till life returns anew;Awake her handmaids, with the matrons leaveThat fainting form o'er which they gaze and grieve;Then seek Anselmo's cavern, to reportThe tale too tedious--when the triumph short.

In that wild council words waxed warm and strange,hxWith thoughts of ransom, rescue, and revenge;All, save repose or flight: still lingering thereBreathed Conrad's spirit, and forbade despair;Whate'er his fate--the breasts he formed and ledWill save him living, or appease him dead.Woe to his foes! there yet survive a few,Whose deeds are daring, as their hearts are true.

Within the Haram's secret chamber sateStern Seyd, still pondering o'er his Captive's fate;His thoughts on love and hate alternate dwell,Now with Gulnare, and now in Conrad's cell;Here at his feet the lovely slave reclinedSurveys his brow--would soothe his gloom of mind;While many an anxious glance her large dark eyeSends in its idle search for sympathy,His only bends in seeming o'er his beads,But inly views his victim as he bleeds.

"Pacha! the day is thine; and on thy crestSits Triumph--Conrad taken--fall'n the rest!His doom is fixed--he dies; and well his fateWas earned--yet much too worthless for thy hate:Methinks, a short release, for ransom toldhyWith all his treasure, not unwisely sold;Report speaks largely of his pirate-hoard--Would that of this my Pacha were the lord!While baffled, weakened by this fatal fray--Watched--followed--he were then an easier prey;But once cut off--the remnant of his bandEmbark their wealth, and seek a safer strand."

"Gulnare!--if for each drop of blood a gemWhere offered rich as Stamboul's diadem;If for each hair of his a massy mineOf virgin ore should supplicating shine;If all our Arab tales divulge or dreamOf wealth were here--that gold should not redeem!It had not now redeemed a single hour,But that I know him fettered, in my power;And, thirsting for revenge, I ponder stillOn pangs that longest rack--and latest kill."

"Nay, Seyd! I seek not to restrain thy rage,Too justly moved for Mercy to assuage;My thoughts were only to secure for theeHis riches--thus released, he were not free:Disabled--shorn of half his might and band,His capture could but wait thy first command."

"His capture could!--and shall I then resignOne day to him--the wretch already mine?Release my foe!--at whose remonstrance?--thine!Fair suitor!--to thy virtuous gratitude,That thus repays this Giaour's relenting mood,Which thee and thine alone of all could spare--No doubt, regardless--if the prize were fair--My thanks and praise alike are due--now hear!I have a counsel for thy gentler ear:I do mistrust thee, Woman! and each wordOf thine stamps truth on all Suspicion heard.hzBorne in his arms through fire from yon Serai--Say, wert thou lingering there with him to fly?Thou need'st not answer--thy confession speaks,Already reddening on thy guilty cheeks:Then--lovely Dame--bethink thee! and beware:'Tis not his life alone may claim such care!Another word and--nay--I need no more.Accursed was the moment when he boreThee from the flames, which better far--but no--I then had mourned thee with a lover's woe--Now 'tis thy lord that warns--deceitful thing!Know'st thou that I can clip thy wanton wing?In words alone I am not wont to chafe:Look to thyself--nor deem thy falsehood safe!"

He rose--and slowly, sternly thence withdrew,Rage in his eye, and threats in his adieu:Ah! little recked that Chief of womanhood--Which frowns ne'er quelled, nor menaces subdued;And little deemed he what thy heart, Gulnare!When soft could feel--and when incensed could dare!His doubts appeared to wrong--nor yet she knewHow deep the root from whence Compassion grew--She was a slave--from such may captives claimA fellow-feeling, differing but in name;Still half unconscious--heedless of his wrath,Again she ventured on the dangerous path,Again his rage repelled--until aroseThat strife of thought, the source of Woman's woes!

Meanwhile--long--anxious--weary--still the sameRolled day and night: his soul could Terror tame--This fearful interval of doubt and dread,When every hour might doom him worse than dead;iaWhen every step that echoed by the gate,Might entering lead where axe and stake await;When every voice that grated on his earMight be the last that he could ever hear;Could Terror tame--that Spirit stern and highHad proved unwilling as unfit to die;'Twas worn--perhaps decayed--yet silent boreThat conflict, deadlier far than all before:The heat of fight, the hurry of the gale,Leave scarce one thought inert enough to quail:But bound and fixed in fettered solitude,To pine, the prey of every changing mood;To gaze on thine own heart--and meditateIrrevocable faults, and coming fate--Too late the last to shun--the first to mend--To count the hours that struggle to thine end,With not a friend to animate and tellTo other ears that Death became thee well;Around thee foes to forge the ready lie,And blot Life's latest scene with calumny;Before thee tortures, which the Soul can dare,Yet doubts how well the shrinking flesh may bear;But deeply feels a single cry would shame,To Valour's praise thy last and dearest claim;The life thou leav'st below, denied aboveBy kind monopolists of heavenly love;And more than doubtful Paradise--thy HeavenOf earthly hope--thy loved one from thee riven.Such were the thoughts that outlaw must sustain,And govern pangs surpassing mortal pain:And those sustained he--boots it well or ill?Since not to sink beneath, is something still!

The first day passed--he saw not her--Gulnare--The second, third--and still she came not there;But what her words avouched, her charms had done,Or else he had not seen another Sun.The fourth day rolled along, and with the nightCame storm and darkness in their mingling might.Oh! how he listened to the rushing deep,That ne'er till now so broke upon his sleep;And his wild Spirit wilder wishes sent,Roused by the roar of his own element!Oft had he ridden on that winged wave,And loved its roughness for the speed it gave;And now its dashing echoed on his ear,A long known voice--alas! too vainly near!Loud sung the wind above; and, doubly loud,Shook o'er his turret cell the thunder-cloud;And flashed the lightning by the latticed bar,To him more genial than the Midnight Star:Close to the glimmering grate he dragged his chain,And hoped that peril might not prove in vain.He rais'd his iron hand to Heaven, and prayedOne pitying flash to mar the form it made:His steel and impious prayer attract alike--The storm rolled onward, and disdained to strike;Its peal waxed fainter--ceased--he felt alone,As if some faithless friend had spurned his groan!

The midnight passed, and to the massy doorA light step came--it paused--it moved once more;Slow turns the grating bolt and sullen key:'Tis as his heart foreboded--that fair She!Whate'er her sins, to him a Guardian Saint,And beauteous still as hermit's hope can paint;Yet changed since last within that cell she came,More pale her cheek, more tremulous her frame:On him she cast her dark and hurried eye,Which spoke before her accents--"Thou must die!Yes, thou must die--there is but one resource,The last--the worst--if torture were not worse."

"Lady! I look to none; my lips proclaimWhat last proclaimed they--Conrad still the same:Why should'st thou seek an outlaw's life to spare,And change the sentence I deserve to bear?Well have I earned--nor here alone--the meedOf Seyd's revenge, by many a lawless deed."

"Why should I seek? because--Oh! did'st thou notRedeem my life from worse than Slavery's lot?Why should I seek?--hath Misery made thee blindTo the fond workings of a woman's mind?And must I say?--albeit my heart rebelWith all that Woman feels, but should not tell--Because--despite thy crimes--that heart is moved:It feared thee--thanked thee--pitied--maddened--loved.Reply not, tell not now thy tale again,Thou lov'st another--and I love in vain:Though fond as mine her bosom, form more fair,I rush through peril which she would not dare.If that thy heart to hers were truly dear,Were I thine own--thou wert not lonely here:An outlaw's spouse--and leave her Lord to roam!What hath such gentle dame to do with home?But speak not now--o'er thine and o'er my headHangs the keen sabre by a single thread;ibIf thou hast courage still, and would'st be free,Receive this poniard--rise and follow me!"

"Aye--in my chains! my steps will gently tread,With these adornments, o'er such slumbering head!Thou hast forgot--is this a garb for flight?Or is that instrument more fit for fight?"

"Misdoubting Corsair! I have gained the guard,Ripe for revolt, and greedy for reward.A single word of mine removes that chain:Without some aid how here could I remain?Well, since we met, hath sped my busy time,If in aught evil, for thy sake the crime:The crime--'tis none to punish those of Seyd.That hatred tyrant, Conrad--he must bleed!I see thee shudder, but my soul is changed--Wronged--spurned--reviled--and it shall be avenged--Accused of what till now my heart disdained--Too faithful, though to bitter bondage chained.Yes, smile!--but he had little cause to sneer,I was not treacherous then, nor thou too dear:But he has said it--and the jealous well,--Those tyrants--teasing--tempting to rebel,--Deserve the fate their fretting lips foretell.I never loved--he bought me--somewhat high--Since with me came a heart he could not buy.I was a slave unmurmuring; he hath said,But for his rescue I with thee had fled.'Twas false thou know'st--but let such Augurs rue,Their words are omens Insult renders true.Nor was thy respite granted to my prayer;This fleeting grace was only to prepareNew torments for thy life, and my despair.Mine too he threatens; but his dotage stillWould fain reserve me for his lordly will:When wearier of these fleeting charms and me,There yawns the sack--and yonder rolls the sea!What, am I then a toy for dotard's play,To wear but till the gilding frets away?I saw thee--loved thee--owe thee all--would save,If but to show how grateful is a slave.But had he not thus menaced fame and life,--And well he keeps his oaths pronounced in strife--I still had saved thee--but the Pacha spared:Now I am all thine own--for all prepared:Thou lov'st me not--nor know'st--or but the worst.Alas! this love--that hatred--are the first--Oh! could'st thou prove my truth, thou would'st not start,Nor fear the fire that lights an Eastern heart;'Tis now the beacon of thy safety--nowIt points within the port a Mainote prow:But in one chamber, where our path must lead,There sleeps--he must not wake--the oppressor Seyd!"

"Gulnare--Gulnare--I never felt till nowMy abject fortune, withered fame so low:Seyd is mine enemy; had swept my bandFrom earth with ruthless but with open hand,And therefore came I, in my bark of war,To smite the smiter with the scimitar;Such is my weapon--not the secret knife;Who spares a Woman's seeks not Slumber's life.Thine saved I gladly, Lady--not for this;Let me not deem that mercy shown amiss.Now fare thee well--more peace be with thy breast!Night wears apace, my last of earthly rest!"ic

"Rest! rest! by sunrise must thy sinews shake,And thy limbs writhe around the ready stake,I heard the order--saw--I will not see--If thou wilt perish, I will fall with thee.My life--my love--my hatred--all belowAre on this cast--Corsair! 'tis but a blow!Without it flight were idle--how evadeHis sure pursuit?--my wrongs too unrepaid,My youth disgraced--the long, long wasted years,One blow shall cancel with our future fears;But since the dagger suits thee less than brand,I'll try the firmness of a female hand.The guards are gained--one moment all were o'er--Corsair! we meet in safety or no more;If errs my feeble hand, the morning cloudWill hover o'er thy scaffold, and my shroud."

She turned, and vanished ere he could reply,But his glance followed far with eager eye;And gathering, as he could, the links that boundHis form, to curl their length, and curb their sound,Since bar and bolt no more his steps preclude,He, fast as fettered limbs allow, pursued.'Twas dark and winding, and he knew not whereThat passage led; nor lamp nor guard was there:He sees a dusky glimmering--shall he seekOr shun that ray so indistinct and weak?Chance guides his steps--a freshness seems to bearFull on his brow as if from morning air;He reached an open gallery--on his eyeGleamed the last star of night, the clearing sky:Yet scarcely heeded these--another lightFrom a lone chamber struck upon his sight.Towards it he moved; a scarcely closing doorRevealed the 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 eyeStarts 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 headAbove 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!

He had seen battle--he had brooded loneO'er promised pangs to sentenced Guilt foreshown;He had been tempted--chastened--and the chainYet on his arms might ever there remain:But ne'er from strife--captivity--remorse--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 thenIt flowed in combat, or was shed by men!id

"'Tis done--he nearly waked--but it is done.Corsair! he perished--thou art dearly won.All words would now be vain--away--away!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."

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,As if they there transferred that iron weight.No words are uttered--at her sign, a doorReveals the secret passage to the shore;The city lies behind--they speed, they reachThe glad waves dancing on the yellow beach;And Conrad following, at her beck, obeyed,Nor cared he now if rescued or betrayed;Resistance were as useless as if SeydYet lived to view the doom his ire decreed.

Embarked--the sail unfurled--the light breeze blew--How much had Conrad's memory to review!ieSunk he in contemplation, till the CapeWhere last he anchored reared its giant shape.Ah!--since that fatal night, though brief the time,Had swept an age of terror, grief, and crime.As its far shadow frowned above the mast,He veiled his face, and sorrowed as he passed;He thought of all--Gonsalvo and his band,His fleeting triumph and his failing hand;He thought on her afar, his lonely bride:He turned and saw--Gulnare, the Homicide!

She watched his features till she could not bearTheir freezing aspect and averted air;And that strange fierceness foreign to her eyeFell quenched in tears, too late to shed or dry.ifShe knelt beside him and his hand she pressed,"Thou may'st forgive though Allah's self detest;But for that deed of darkness what wert thou?Reproach me--but not yet--Oh! spare me now!I am not what I seem--this fearful nightMy brain bewildered--do not madden quite!If I had never loved--though less my guilt--Thou hadst not lived to--hate me--if thou wilt."

She wrongs his thoughts--they more himself upbraidThan her--though undesigned--the wretch he made;But speechless all, deep, dark, and unexprest,They bleed within that silent cell--his breast.Still onward, fair the breeze, nor rough the surge,The blue waves sport around the stern they urge;Far on the Horizon's verge appears a speck,A spot--a mast--a sail--an armed deck!Their little bark her men of watch descry,And ampler canvass woos the wind from high;She bears her down majestically near,Speed on her prow, and terror in her tier;igA flash is seen--the ball beyond her bowBooms harmless, hissing to the deep below.Up rose keen Conrad from his silent trance,A long, long absent gladness in his glance;"'Tis mine--my blood-rag flag! again--again--I am not all deserted on the main!"They own the signal, answer to the hail,Hoist out the boat at once, and slacken sail."'Tis Conrad! Conrad!" shouting from the deck,Command nor Duty could their transport check!With light alacrity and gaze of Pride,They view him mount once more his vessel's side;A smile relaxing in each rugged face,Their arms can scarce forbear a rough embrace.He, half forgetting danger and defeat,Returns their greeting as a Chief may greet,Wrings with a cordial grasp Anselmo's hand,And feels he yet can conquer and command!

These greetings o'er, the feelings that o'erflow,Yet grieve to win him back without a blow;They sailed prepared for vengeance--had they knownA woman's hand secured that deed her own,She were their Queen--less scrupulous are theyThan haughty Conrad how they win their way.With many an asking smile, and wondering stare,They whisper round, and gaze upon Gulnare;And her, at once above--beneath her sex,Whom blood appalled not, their regards perplex.ihTo Conrad turns her faint imploring eye,She drops her veil, and stands in silence by;Her arms are meekly folded on that breast,Which--Conrad safe--to Fate resigned the rest.Though worse than frenzy could that bosom fill,Extreme in love or hate, in good or ill,The worst of crimes had left her Woman still!

This Conrad marked, and felt--ah! could he less?--Hate of that deed--but grief for her distress;What she has done no tears can wash away,And Heaven must punish on its angry day:But--it was done: he knew, whate'er her guilt,For him that poniard smote, that blood was spilt;And he was free!--and she for him had givenHer all on earth, and more than all in heaven!And now he turned him to that dark-eyed slaveWhose brow was bowed beneath the glance he gave,Who now seemed changed and humbled, faint and meek,But varying oft the colour of her cheekTo deeper shades of paleness--all its redThat fearful spot which stained it from the dead!He took that hand--it trembled--now too late--So soft in love--so wildly nerved in hate;He clasped that hand--it trembled--and his ownHad lost its firmness, and his voice its tone."Gulnare!"--but she replied not--"dear Gulnare!"iiShe raised her eye--her only answer there--At once she sought and sunk in his embrace:If he had driven her from that resting-place,His had been more or less than mortal heart,But--good or ill--it bade her not depart.Perchance, but for the bodings of his breast,His latest virtue then had joined the rest.Yet even Medora might forgive the kissijThat asked from form so fair no more than this,The first, the last that Frailty stole from Faith--To lips where Love had lavished all his breath,To lips--whose broken sighs such fragrance fling,As he had fanned them freshly with his wing!ik

They gain by twilight's hour their lonely isle.To them the very rocks appear to smile;The haven hums with many a cheering sound,The beacons blaze their wonted stations round,The boats are darting o'er the curly bay,And sportive Dolphins bend them through the spray;Even the hoarse sea-bird's shrill, discordant shriek,Greets like the welcome of his tuneless beak!Beneath each lamp that through its lattice gleams,Their fancy paints the friends that trim the beams.Oh! what can sanctify the joys of home,Like Hope's gay glance from Ocean's troubled foam?il

The lights are high on beacon and from bower,And 'midst them Conrad seeks Medora's tower:He looks in vain--'tis strange--and all remark,Amid so many, hers alone is dark.'Tis strange--of yore its welcome never failed,Nor now, perchance, extinguished--only veiled.With the first boat descends he for the shore,And looks impatient on the lingering oar.Oh! for a wing beyond the falcon's flight,To bear him like an arrow to that height!With the first pause the resting rowers gave,He waits not--looks not--leaps into the wave,Strives through the surge, bestrides the beach, and highAscends the path familiar to his eye.

He reached his turret door--he paused--no soundBroke from within; and all was night around.He knocked, and loudly--footstep nor replyAnnounced that any heard or deemed him nigh:He knocked, but faintly--for his trembling handRefused to aid his heavy heart's demand.The portal opens--'tis a well known face--But not the form he panted to embrace.Its lips are silent--twice his own essayed,And failed to frame the question they delayed;He snatched the lamp--its light will answer all--It quits his grasp, expiring in the fall.He would not wait for that reviving ray--As soon could he have lingered there for day;But, glimmering through the dusky corridor,Another chequers o'er the shadowed floor;His steps the chamber gain--his eyes beholdAll that his heart believed not--yet foretold!

He turned not--spoke not--sunk not--fixed his look,And set the anxious frame that lately shook:He gazed--how long we gaze despite of pain,And know, but dare not own, we gaze in vain!In life itself she was so still and fair,That Death with gentler aspect withered there;And the cold flowers her colder hand contained,In that last grasp as tenderly were strainedAs if she scarcely felt, but feigned a sleep--And made it almost mockery yet to weep:The long dark lashes fringed her lids of snow,And veiled--Thought shrinks from all that lurked below--Oh!o'er the eye Death most exerts his might,And hurls the Spirit from her throne of light;Sinks those blue orbs in that long last eclipse,But spares, as yet, the charm around her lips--Yet, yet they seem as they forebore to smile,And wished repose,--but only for a while;But the white shroud, and each extended tress,Long, fair--but spread in utter lifelessness,Which, late the sport of every summer wind,Escaped the baffled wreath that strove to bind;imThese--and the pale pure cheek, became the bier--But She is nothing--wherefore is he here?

He asked no question--all were answered nowBy the first glance on that still, marble brow.inIt was enough--she died--what recked it how?The love of youth, the hope of better years,The source of softest wishes, tenderest fears,The only living thing he could not hate,Was reft at once--and he deserved his fate,But did not feel it less;--the Good explore,For peace, those realms where Guilt can never soar:The proud, the wayward--who have fixed belowTheir joy, and find this earth enough for woe,Lose in that one their all--perchance a mite--But who in patience parts with all delight?Full many a stoic eye and aspect sternMask hearts where Grief hath little left to learn;And many a withering thought lies hid, not lost,In smiles that least befit who wear them most.

By those, that deepest feel, is ill exprestThe indistinctness of the suffering breast;Where thousand thoughts begin to end in one,Which seeks from all the refuge found in none;No words suffice the secret soul to show,For Truth denies all eloquence to Woe.On Conrad's stricken soul Exhaustion prest,And Stupor almost lulled it into rest;So feeble now--his mother's softness creptTo those wild eyes, which like an infant's wept:It was the very weakness of his brain,Which thus confessed without relieving pain.None saw his trickling tears--perchance, if seen,That useless flood of grief had never been:Nor long they flowed--he dried them to depart,In helpless--hopeless--brokenness of heart:The Sun goes forth, but Conrad's day is dim:And the night cometh--ne'er to pass from him.ioThere is no darkness like the cloud of mind,On Grief's vain eye--the blindest of the blind!Which may not--dare not see--but turns asideTo blackest shade--nor will endure a guide!

His heart was formed for softness--warped to wrong,Betrayed too early, and beguiled too long;Each feeling pure--as falls the dropping dewWithin the grot--like that had hardened too;Less clear, perchance, its earthly trials passed,But sunk, and chilled, and petrified at last.Yet tempests wear, and lightning cleaves the rock;If such his heart, so shattered it the shock.There grew one flower beneath its rugged brow,Though dark the shade--it sheltered--saved till now.The thunder came--that bolt hath blasted both,The Granite's firmness, and the Lily's growth:The gentle plant hath left no leaf to tellIts tale, but shrunk and withered where it fell;And of its cold protector, blacken roundBut shivered fragments on the barren ground!

'Tis morn--to venture on his lonely hourFew dare; though now Anselmo sought his tower.He was not there, nor seen along the shore;Ere night, alarmed, their isle is traversed o'er:Another morn--another bids them seek,And shout his name till Echo waxeth weak;Mount--grotto--cavern--valley searched in vain,They find on shore a sea-boat's broken chain:Their hope revives--they follow o'er the main.'Tis idle all--moons roll on moons away,And Conrad comes not, came not since that day:Nor trace nor tidings of his doom declareWhere lives his grief, or perished his despair!Long mourned his band whom none could mourn beside;And fair the monument they gave his Bride:For him they raise not the recording stone--His death yet dubious, deeds too widely known;He left a Corsair's name to other times,Linked with one virtue, and a thousand crimes.

Words in this poem 115

isle v. t.: To cause to become an island, or like an island; to surround or encompass; to island.
glorious a.: Exhibiting attributes, qualities, or acts that are worthy of or receive glory; noble; praiseworthy; excellent; splendid; illustrious; inspiring admiration; as, glorious deeds. [OF. glorios, glorious, F. glorieux, fr. L. gloriosus. See Glory, n.]
phoebus n.: Apollo; the sun god.
vapour n.: Any substance in the gaseous, or aëriform, state, the condition of which is ordinarily that of a liquid or solid. [OE. vapour, OF. vapour, vapor, vapeur, F. vapeur, L. vapor; probably for cvapor, and akin to Gr. kvepti to breathe, smell, Russ. kopote fine soot. Cf. Vapid.]
minaret n.: A slender, lofty tower attached to a mosque and surrounded by one or more projecting balconies, from which the summon to prayer is cried by the muezzin. [Sp. minarete, Ar. manarat lamp, lantern, lighthouse, turret, fr. nar to shine.]
kiosk n.: A Turkish open summer house or pavilion, supported by pillars. [Turk. kiushk, kiöshk, Per. k.]
sombre n.: Gloom; obscurity; duskiness; somberness.
fane n.: A temple; a place consecrated to religion; a church. [L. fanum a place dedicated to some deity, a sanctuary, fr. fari to speak. See Fame.]
afar adv.: At, to, or from a great distance; far away; -- often used with from preceding, or off following; as, he was seen from afar; I saw him afar off. [Pref. a-.(for on or of) + far.]
dwell v. i.: To delay; to linger. [OE. dwellen, dwelien, to err, linger, AS. dwellan to deceive, hinder, delay, dwelian to err; akin to Icel. dvelja to delay, tarry, Sw. dväljas to dwell, Dan. dv]
sadly adv.: Wearily; heavily; firmly.
sate v. t.: To satisfy the desire or appetite of; to satiate; to glut; to surfeit. [Probably shortened fr. satiate: cf. L. satus full. See Satiate.]
depart v. i.: To part; to divide; to separate. [OE. departen to divide, part, depart, F. départir to divide, distribute, se départir to separate one's self, depart; pref. dé- (L. de) + partir to part, depart,]
scarce a.: Not plentiful or abundant; in small quantity in proportion to the demand; not easily to be procured; rare; uncommon. [OE. scars, OF. escars, eschars, LL. scarpsus, for L. excerptus, p. p. of excerpere to pick out, and hence to contract, to shorten; ex (see Ex-) + carpere. See C]
darkling a.: Becoming dark or gloomy; frowing.
loneliness n.: The condition of being lonely; solitude; seclusion.
reclined a.: Falling or turned downward; reclinate.
soothe v. t.: To assent to as true. Testament of Love. [Originally, to assent to as true; OE. so to verify, AS. ges to prove the truth of, to bear witness. See Sooth, a.]
inly a.: Internal; interior; secret. [OE. inlich, AS. inlic. See In.]
methinks v.: It seems to me; I think. See Me. [AS. þyncan to seem, me þynceedh, me þuhte, OE. me thinketh, me thoughte; akin to G. dünken to seem, denken to think, and E. think. See Me, and Think.]
unwisely adv.: In an unwise manner; foolishly. [AS. unwislice.]
wealth n.: Weal; welfare; prosperity; good. [OE. welthe, from wele; cf. D. weelde luxury. See Weal prosperity.]
massy a.: Compacted into, or consisting of, a mass; having bulk and weight ot substance; ponderous; bulky and heavy; weight; heavy; as, a massy shield; a massy rock.
fettered a.: Seeming as if fettered, as the feet pf certain animals which bend backward, and appear unfit for walking.
shall v. i.: To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
remonstrance n.: The act of remonstrating; as: (a) A pointing out; manifestation; proof; demonstration. [Cf. OF. remonstrance, F. remonstrance. See Remonstrate.]
suitor n.: One who sues, petitions, or entreats; a petitioner; an applicant.
virtuous a.: Possessing or exhibiting virtue. Specifically: -- (a) Exhibiting manly courage and strength; valorous; valiant; brave. [OE. vertuous, OF. vertuos, vertuous, F. vertueux, fr. L. Virtuous. See Virtue, and cf. Virtuoso.]
serai n.: A palace; a seraglio; also, in the East, a place for the accommodation of travelers; a caravansary, or rest house. [Per. sera\'8b, or saraï, a palace, a king's court, a seraglio, an inn. Cf. Caravansary.]
dame n.: A mistress of a family, who is a lady; a womam in authority; especially, a lady. [F. dame, LL. domna, fr. L. domina mistress, lady, fem. of dominus master, ruler, lord; akin to domare to tame, subdue. See Tame, and cf. Dam mother, Dan, Danger]
beware v. t.: To avoid; to take care of; to have a care for.
deem v. t.: To decide; to judge; to sentence; to condemn. [OE. demen to judge, condemn, AS. d, fr. d doom; akin to OFries. d, OS. ad, D. doemen, OHG. tuommen, Icel. dæma, Sw. dömma, Dan. dömme, Goth. d. See Doom, n., an]
sternly adv.: In a stern manner.
incensed a.: Angered; enraged.
strife n.: The act of striving; earnest endeavor. [OF. estrif. See Strive.]
await v. t.: To watch for; to look out for. [OF. awaitier, agaitier; (L. ad) + waitier, gaitier to watch, F. guetter. See Wait.]
grated a.: Furnished with a grate or grating; as, grated windows. [From 2d Grate.]
broke v. i.: To transact business for another. Brome. [See Broker, and cf. Brook.]
shook v. t.: To pack, as staves, in a shook.
genial a.: Contributing to, or concerned in, propagation or production; generative; procreative; productive. [L. genialis: cf. OF. genial. See Genius.]
pitying a.: Expressing pity; as, a pitying eye, glance, or word.
peal v. i.: To appeal. Spencer.
sullen a.: Lonely; solitary; desolate. Wyclif (Job iii. 14). [OE. solein, solain, lonely, sullen; through Old French fr. (assumed) LL. solanus solitary, fr. L. solus alone. See Sole, a.]
beauteous a.: Full of beauty; beautiful; very handsome. [Mostly poetic] -- Beau"te*ous*ly, adv. --
spoke n.: The radius or ray of a wheel; one of the small bars which are inserted in the hub, or nave, and which serve to support the rim or felly. [OE. spoke, spake, AS, spaca; akin to D. speek, LG. speke, OHG. speihha, G. speiche. sq. root170. Cf. Spike a nail.]
resource n.: That to which one resorts orr on which one depends for supply or support; means of overcoming a difficulty; resort; expedient. [F. ressource, fr. OF. ressourdre, resourdre, to spring forth or up again; pref. re- re- + sourdre to spring forth. See Source.]
meed v. t.: To reward; to repay. Waytt.
albeit conj.: Even though; although; notwithstanding. [OE. al be although it be, where al is our all. Cf. Although.]
rebel a.: Pertaining to rebels or rebellion; acting in revolt; rebellious; as, rebel troops. [F. rebelle, fr. L. rebellis. See Rebel, v. t.]
spouse v. t.: To wed; to espouse. [See Espouse, and Spouse, n.]
sabre n.: A sword with a broad and heavy blade, thick at the back, and usually more or less curved like a scimiter; a cavalry sword. Saber fish, or Sabre fish (Zoöl.), the cutlass fish.
hast: , 2d pers. sing. pres. of. Fave, contr. of havest.
garb n.: External appearance, as expressive of the feelings or character; looks; fashion or manner, as of speech. [OF. garbe looks, countenance, grace, ornament, fr. OHG. garawi, garwi, ornament, dress. akin to E. gear. See Gear, n.]
corsair n.: A pirate; one who cruises about without authorization from any government, to seize booty on sea or land. [F. corsaire (cf. It. corsare, corsale, Pr. corsari), LL. corsarius, fr. L. cursus a running, course, whence Sp. corso cruise, corsa cruise, coasting voyage, cor]
aught n.: Property; possession. [AS. , fr. agan to own, p. p. ahte.]
dotage n.: Feebleness or imbecility of understanding or mind, particularly in old age; the childishness of old age; senility; as, a venerable man, now in his dotage. [From Dote, v. i.]
fain v. t.: To be glad ; to wish or desire.
yonder adv.: At a distance, but within view. [OE. yonder, ýonder; cf. OD. ginder, Goth. jaindr there. Yond, adv.]
oppressor n.: One who oppresses; one who imposes unjust burdens on others; one who harasses others with unjust laws or unreasonable severity. [L.]
abject a.: Cast down; low-lying. [L. abjectus, p. p. of abjicere to throw away; ab + jacere to throw. See Jet a shooting forth.]
ruthless a.: Having no ruth; cruel; pitiless.
smiter n.: One who smites.
scimitar n.: A saber with a much curved blade having the edge on the convex side, -- in use among Mohammedans, esp., the Arabs and persians. [F. cimeterre, cf. It. scimitarra, Sp. cimitarra; fr. Biscayan cimetarry with a sharp edge; or corrupted from Per. shimshir.]
gladly adv.: Preferably; by choice. [From Glad, a.]
apace adv.: With a quick pace; quick; fast; speedily. [Pref. a- + pace. OE. a pas at a walk, in which a is the article. See Pace.]
hover n.: A cover; a shelter; a protection. Carew. C. Kingsley. [Etymol. doubtful.]
lone n.: A lane. See Loanin.
fearfully adv.: In a fearful manner.
veiled a.: Covered by, or as by, a veil; hidden.
inmost a.: Deepest within; farthest from the surface or external part; innermost. [OE. innemest, AS. innemest, a double superlative form fr. inne within, fr. in in. The modern form is due to confusion with most. See In, and cf. Aftermost, Fore]
unmoved a.: Not moved; fixed; firm; unshaken; calm; apathetic.
surviving a.: Remaining alive; yet living or existing; as, surviving friends; surviving customs.
anon adv.: Straightway; at once. [OE. anoon, anon, anan, lit., in one (moment), fr. AS. on in + an one. See On and One.]
sadness n.: Heaviness; firmness.
anchored a.: Held by an anchor; at anchor; held safely; as, an anchored bark; also, shaped like an anchor; forked; as, an anchored tongue.
sorrowed a.: Accompanied with sorrow; sorrowful.
averted a.: Turned away, esp. as an expression of feeling; also, offended; unpropitious.
detest v. t.: To witness against; to denounce; to condemn. [L. detestare, detestatum, and detestari, to curse while calling a deity to witness, to execrate, detest; de + testari to be a witness, testify, testis a witness]
madden v. t.: To make mad; to drive to madness; to craze; to excite violently with passion; to make very angry; to enrage.
upbraid n.: The act of reproaching; contumely.
speechless a.: Destitute or deprived of the faculty of speech.
descry: , Discovery or view, as of an army seen at a distance.
defeat v. t.: To undo; to disfigure; to destroy. [From F. défait, OF. desfait, p. p. ofe défaire, OF. desfaire, to undo; L. dis- + facere to do. See Feat, Fact, and cf. Disfashion.]
haughty a.: High; lofty; bold. [OE. hautein, F. hautain, fr. haut high, OF. also halt, fr. L. altus. See Altitude.]
imploring a.: That implores; beseeching; entreating.
meekly adv.: In a meek manner.
resigned a.: Submissive; yielding; not disposed to resist or murmur.
angry a.: Troublesome; vexatious; rigorous. [See Anger.]
bade: A form of the pat tense of Bid.
frailty n.: The condition quality of being frail, physically, mentally, or morally, frailness; infirmity; weakness of resolution; liableness to be deceived or seduced. [OE. frelete, freilte, OF. fraileté, fr. L. fragilitas. See Frail, a., and cf. Fragility.]
stole n.: A long, loose garment reaching to the feet. [AS. stole, L. stola, Gr. stall. See Stall.]
wonted a.: Accustomed; customary; usual.
tuneless a.: Without tune; inharmonious; unmusical.
sanctify v. t.: To make sacred or holy; to set apart to a holy or religious use; to consecrate by appropriate rites; to hallow. [F. sanctifier, L. sanctificare; sanctus holy + - ficare (in comp.) to make. See Saint, and -fy.]
amid prep.: In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
yore adv.: In time long past; in old time; long since. [OE. , yare, , AS. geára;akin to geár a year, E. year. Year.]
expiring a.: Breathing out air from the lungs; emitting fluid or volatile matter; exhaling; breathing the last breath; dying; ending; terminating.
corridor n.: A gallery or passageway leading to several apartments of a house. [F., fr. Itt. corridpore, or Sp. corredor; prop., a runner, hence, a running or long line, a gallery, fr. L. currere to run. See Course.]
tenderly adv.: In a tender manner; with tenderness; mildly; gently; softly; in a manner not to injure or give pain; with pity or affection; kindly.
tress n.: A braid, knot, or curl, of hair; a ringlet. [OE. tresse, OF. trece, F. tresse, LL. tricia, fr. Gr. tri`cha threefold, because a tress is usually formed by interlacing three pieces; akin to trei^s three. Se]
bier n.: A handbarrow or portable frame on which a corpse is placed or borne to the grave. [OE. bæe, beere, AS. b, b; akin to D. baar, OHG. bara, G. bahre, Icel barar, Dbaare, L. feretrum, Gr. , from the same bear to produce. See 1st Bear, and cf. Barr]
wherefore adv.: For which reason; so; -- used relatively. [Where + for.]
reft n.: A chink; a rift. See Rift. Rom. of R.
explore v. t.: To seek for or after; to strive to attain by search; to look wisely and carefully for. [L. explorare to explore; ex out+plorare to cry out aloud,prob. orig., to cause to flow; perh. akin to E. flow: cf. F. explorer.]
wayward a.: Taking one's own way; disobedient; froward; perverse; willful. [OE. weiward, for aweiward, i. e., turned away. See Away, and -ward.]
withering a.: Tending to wither; causing to shrink or fade.
indistinctness n.: The quality or condition of being indistinct; want of definiteness; dimness; confusion; as, the indistinctness of a picture, or of comprehension; indistinctness of vision.
suffice v. i.: To be enough, or sufficient; to meet the need (of anything); to be equal to the end proposed; to be adequate. [OE. suffisen, OF. soufire, F. suffire (cf. suffisant, p.pr.), L. sufficere to put under, to substitute, to avail for, to suffice; sub under + facere to make. Se]
stricken p. p.: Struck; smitten; wounded; as, the stricken deer.
prest a.: Ready; prompt; prepared. [OF. prest, F. prêt, fr. L. praestus ready. Cf. Presto.]
brokenness n.: The state or quality of being broken; unevenness.
chilled a.: Hardened on the surface or edge by chilling; as, chilled iron; a chilled wheel.
blasted a.: Blighted; withered.
morn n.: The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
dubious a.: Doubtful or not settled in opinion; being in doubt; wavering or fluctuating; undetermined. [L. dubius, dubiosus, fr. duo two. See Two, and cf. Doubt.]

Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.

About this text

The Corsair: Canto III is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Works of Lord Byron. Vol. 3, Project Gutenberg ebook #21811; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.

Cite as: Lord Byron, The Corsair: Canto III, in The Giaour, and Other Poems (1816), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #21811, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/byron-works-3/canto-iii-canto-iii-i.html, id L23916.

Form and metre

The Corsair: Canto III is 696 lines in 43 verse paragraphs. It is in rhyming couplets, 89% of the lines: heroic couplets. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 91%).

See other poems in heroic couplets, other poems in iambic pentameter.

Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.

Rhyme words, stanza by stanza

The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.

1 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHII run^A · sun^A · bright^B · light^B · throws^C · glows^C · isle^D · smile^D · shine^E · divine^E · kiss^F · salamis^F · expanse^G · glance^G · driven^H · heaven^H · deep^I · sleep^I
2 AABBCCDDEEFFGG cast^A · last^A · ray^B · day^B · hill^C · still^C · eyes^D · dyes^D · pour^E · before^E · head^F · fled^F · fly^G · die^G
3 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHH plain^A · reign^A · storm^B · form^B · play^C · ray^C · beset^D · minaret^D · wide^E · tide^E · mosque^F · kiosk^F · calm^G · palm^G · eye^H · by^H
4 AABBCC afar^A · war^A · unfold^B · gold^B · isle^C · smile^C
5 AABBCCDDEEE thee^A · sea^A · tale^B · prevail^B · set^C · forget^C · frees^D · cyclades^D · strain^E · domain^E · again^E
6 AA-BBCCDDEEFFGGHHII night^A · height^A · gone · one^B · none^B · yet^C · met^C · tale^D · sail^D · passed^E · mast^E · bore^F · shore^F · spray^G · away^G · depart^H · heart^H · suspense^I · sense^I
7 -ABBCCDDAA--EEFFGG boat · sought^A · few^B · knew^B · wait^C · fate^C · fear^D · ear^D · not^A · lot^A · high · energy · wept^E · slept^E · said^F · dread^F · might^G · height^G
8 AABB tell^A · well^A · denies^B · lies^B
9 AA- fled^A · dead^A · alive
10 ---AA--BBCCDD strive · withstood · subdued · wave^A · grave^A · eyes · supplies:hw · dew^B · anew^B · leave^C · grieve^C · report^D · short^D
11 --AABBCC strange,hx · revenge · there^A · despair^A · led^B · dead^B · few^C · true^C
12 AABBCC--DD sate^A · fate^A · dwell^B · cell^B · reclined^C · mind^C · eye · sympathy · beads^D · bleeds^D
13 AABBCCDDEEFF crest^A · rest^A · fate^B · hate^B · toldhy^C · sold^C · hoard^D · lord^D · fray^E · prey^E · band^F · strand^F
14 AABBCCDDEE gem^A · diadem^A · mine^B · shine^B · dream^C · redeem^C · hour^D · power^D · still^E · kill^E
15 AABBCC rage^A · assuage^A · thee^B · free^B · band^C · command^C
16 AAABBCCDD----EECCFFGGHHII resign^A · mine^A · thine^A · gratitude^B · mood^B · spare^C · fair^C · hear^D · ear^D · word · heard.hz · serai · fly · speaks^E · cheeks^E · beware^C · care^C · more^F · bore^F · no^G · woe^G · thing^H · wing^H · chafe^I · safe^I
17 AABBCCDDEEFFGG withdrew^A · adieu^A · womanhood^B · subdued^B · gulnare^C · dare^C · knew^D · grew^D · claim^E · name^E · wrath^F · path^F · arose^G · woes^G
18 AA--BBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJ--KKLLMMNNNNOO same^A · tame^A · dread · dead;ia · gate^B · await^B · ear^C · hear^C · high^D · die^D · bore^E · before^E · gale^F · quail^F · solitude^G · mood^G · meditate^H · fate^H · mend^I · end^I · tell^J · well^J · lie · calumny · dare^K · bear^K · shame^L · claim^L · above^M · love^M · heaven^N · riven^N · sustain^N · pain^N · ill^O · still^O
19 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMM gulnare^A · there^A · done^B · sun^B · night^C · might^C · deep^D · sleep^D · sent^E · element^E · wave^F · gave^F · ear^G · near^G · loud^H · cloud^H · bar^I · star^I · chain^J · vain^J · prayed^K · made^K · alike^L · strike^L · alone^M · groan^M
20 AABBCCDDEEFF door^A · more^A · key^B · she^B · saint^C · paint^C · came^D · frame^D · eye^E · die^E · resource^F · worse^F
21 AABBCC proclaim^A · same^A · spare^B · bear^B · meed^C · deed^C
22 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJ not^A · lot^A · blind^B · mind^B · rebel^C · tell^C · moved^D · loved^D · again^E · vain^E · fair^F · dare^F · dear^G · here^G · roam^H · home^H · head^I · thread;ib^I · free^J · me^J
23 AABB tread^A · head^A · flight^B · fight^B
24 --AABB----CCDDEEEFFGGHHIIIJJKKLLMMNNOOPPQQRR-- guard · reward · chain^A · remain^A · time^B · crime^B · seyd · bleed · changed · avenged · disdained^C · chained^C · sneer^D · dear^D · well^E · rebel^E · foretell^E · high^F · buy^F · said^G · fled^G · rue^H · true^H · prayer^I · prepare^I · despair^I · still^J · will^J · me^K · sea^K · play^L · away^L · save^M · slave^M · life^N · strife^N · spared^O · prepared^O · worst^P · first^P · start^Q · heart^Q · now^R · prow^R · lead · seyd
25 --AA--BBCC-- now · low · band^A · hand^A · war · scimitar · knife^B · life^B · this^C · amiss^C · breast · ic
26 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHH shake^A · stake^A · see^B · thee^B · below^C · blow^C · evade^D · unrepaid^D · years^E · fears^E · brand^F · hand^F · o'er^G · more^G · cloud^H · shroud^H
27 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNNOOPP reply^A · eye^A · bound^B · sound^B · preclude^C · pursued^C · where^D · there^D · seek^E · weak^E · bear^F · air^F · eye^G · sky^G · light^H · sight^H · door^I · more^I · passed^J · last^J · ill^K · kill^K · eye^L · fearfully^L · hair^M · fair^M · head^N · dread^N · forgot^O · spot^O · withstood^P · blood^P
28 AABBCCDDEEFF lone^A · foreshown^A · chain^B · remain^B · remorse^C · force^C · vein^D · stain^D · streak^E · cheek^E · then^F · men!id^F
29 AABB--CC done^A · won^A · away^B · day^B · mine · join · hand^C · strand^C
30 A-BBCCAADDEEE- pour^A · moor · unbind^B · wind^B · sate^C · weight^C · door^A · shore^A · reach^D · beach^D · obeyed^E · betrayed^E · seyd^E · decreed
31 AABBCCDDEEFF blew^A · review!ie^A · cape^B · shape^B · time^C · crime^C · mast^D · passed^D · band^E · hand^E · bride^F · homicide^F
32 AABBCCDDEEFF bear^A · air^A · eye^B · dry.if^B · pressed^C · detest^C · thou^D · now^D · night^E · quite^E · guilt^F · wilt^F
33 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNNOO upbraid^A · made^A · unexprest^B · breast^B · surge^C · urge^C · speck^D · deck^D · descry^E · high^E · near^F · tier;ig^F · bow^G · below^G · trance^H · glance^H · again^I · main^I · hail^J · sail^J · deck^K · check^K · pride^L · side^L · face^M · embrace^M · defeat^N · greet^N · hand^O · command^O
34 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHG o'erflow^A · blow^A · known^B · own^B · they^C · way^C · stare^D · gulnare^D · sex^E · perplex.ih^E · eye^F · by^F · breast^G · rest^G · fill^H · ill^H · still^G
35 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNNOOPP less^A · distress^A · away^B · day^B · guilt^C · spilt^C · given^D · heaven^D · slave^E · gave^E · meek^F · cheek^F · red^G · dead^G · late^H · hate^H · own^I · tone^I · ii^J · there^J · embrace^K · place^K · heart^L · depart^L · breast^M · rest^M · kissij^N · this^N · faith^O · breath^O · fling^P · wing!ik^P
36 AABBCCDDEEFF isle^A · smile^A · sound^B · round^B · bay^C · spray^C · shriek^D · beak^D · gleams^E · beams^E · home^F · foam?il^F
37 AABBCCDDEEFFGG bower^A · tower^A · remark^B · dark^B · failed^C · veiled^C · shore^D · oar^D · flight^E · height^E · gave^F · wave^F · high^G · eye^G
38 AABBCCDDEEFFGG--HH sound^A · around^A · reply^B · nigh^B · hand^C · demand^C · face^D · embrace^D · essayed^E · delayed^E · all^F · fall^F · ray^G · day^G · corridor · floor · behold^H · foretold^H
39 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLL look^A · shook^A · pain^B · vain^B · fair^C · there^C · contained^D · strained^D · sleep^E · weep^E · snow^F · oh^F · might^G · light^G · eclipse^H · lips^H · smile^I · while^I · tress^J · lifelessness^J · wind^K · bind;im^K · bier^L · here^L
40 A-ABBCCDDEEFFGG-- now^A · brow.in · how^A · years^B · fears^B · hate^C · fate^C · explore^D · soar^D · below^E · woe^E · mite^F · delight^F · stern^G · learn^G · lost · most
41 AABBCCAADDEE-BFF--GGHH exprest^A · breast^A · one^B · none^B · show^C · woe^C · prest^A · rest^A · crept^D · wept^D · brain^E · pain^E · seen · been^B · depart^F · heart^F · dim · him.io · mind^G · blind^G · aside^H · guide^H
42 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHH wrong^A · long^A · dew^B · too^B · passed^C · last^C · rock^D · shock^D · brow^E · now^E · both^F · growth^F · tell^G · fell^G · round^H · ground^H
43 AA--BBCCCDDEEFFGGHH hour^A · tower^A · shore · o'er · seek^B · weak^B · vain^C · chain^C · main^C · away^D · day^D · declare^E · despair^E · beside^F · bride^F · stone^G · known^G · times^H · crimes^H

Scansion, line by line

Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.

Line	Syl.	Stress
Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run,	10	···/˘·····
Along Morea's hills the setting Sun;	10	˘//˘˘··/˘·
Not, as in Northern climes, obscurely bright,	10	···/˘·˘/˘·
But one unclouded blaze of living light!	10	·······/˘·
O'er the hushed deep the yellow beam he throws,	10	·····/˘···
Gilds the green wave, that trembles as it glows.	10	·····/˘···
On old AEgina's rock, and Idra's isle,	10	··········
The God of gladness sheds his parting smile;	10	···/˘··/˘·
O'er his own regions lingering, loves to shine,	10	···/˘/˘···
Though there his altars are no more divine.	10	···/˘···˘/
Descending fast the mountain shadows kiss	10	˘/˘··/˘/··
Thy glorious gulf, unconquered Salamis!	11	·/˘˘····˘/˘
Their azure arches through the long expanse	10	·/˘/˘···˘/
More deeply purpled met his mellowing glance,	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
And tenderest tints, along their summits driven,	10	·/˘·˘/·/˘/
Mark his gay course, and own the hues of Heaven;	11	·········/˘
Till, darkly shaded from the land and deep,	10	·/˘/˘·····
Behind his Delphian cliff he sinks to sleep.	10	···/˘·····
On such an eve, his palest beam he cast,	10	·····/˘···
When--Athens! here thy Wisest looked his last.	10	·/˘··/˘···
How watched thy better sons his farewell ray,	10	···/˘···/·
That closed their murdered Sage's latest day!	10	···/˘/˘/˘·
Not yet--not yet--Sol pauses on the hill--	10	·····/˘···
The precious hour of parting lingers still;	10	·/˘/·/˘/˘·
But sad his light to agonising eyes,	10	·····/˘·˘·
And dark the mountain's once delightful dyes:	10	···/˘·˘/˘·
Gloom o'er the lovely land he seemed to pour,	10	···/˘·····
The land, where Phoebus never frowned before:	10	···/˘/˘···
But ere he sunk below Cithaeron's head,	10	··········
The cup of woe was quaffed--the Spirit fled;	10	·······/˘·
The Soul of him who scorned to fear or fly--	10	··········
Who lived and died, as none can live or die!	10	··········
But lo! from high Hymettus to the plain,	10	··········
The Queen of night asserts her silent reign.	10	····˘/·/˘·
No murky vapour, herald of the storm,	10	·/˘/˘/˘···
Hides her fair face, nor girds her glowing form;	10	·······/˘·
With cornice glimmering as the moon-beams play,	10	·/˘/˘·····
There the white column greets her grateful ray,	10	···/˘··/˘·
And bright around with quivering beams beset,	10	·····/˘·˘/
Her emblem sparkles o'er the Minaret:	10	·/˘/˘···˘/
The groves of olive scattered dark and wide	10	···/˘/˘···
Where meek Cephisus pours his scanty tide;	10	·······/˘·
The cypress saddening by the sacred Mosque,	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
The gleaming turret of the gay Kiosk;	10	·/˘/˘···/·
And, dun and sombre 'mid the holy calm,	10	···/˘··/˘·
Near Theseus' fane yon solitary palm,	10	·····/˘·˘·
All tinged with varied hues arrest the eye--	10	···/˘·˘/··
And dull were his that passed him heedless by.	10	·······/˘·
Again the AEgean, heard no more afar,	11	˘/·˘/˘···˘/
Lulls his chafed breast from elemental war;	10	······˘/˘·
Again his waves in milder tints unfold	10	˘/···/˘·˘/
Their long array of sapphire and of gold,	10	··˘/·/˘···
Mixed with the shades of many a distant isle,	10	·····/·/˘·
That frown--where gentler Ocean seems to smile.	10	···/˘/˘···
Not now my theme--why turn my thoughts to thee?	10	··········
Oh! who can look along thy native sea,	10	····˘/·/˘·
Nor dwell upon thy name, whate'er the tale,	11	······˘˘/··
So much its magic must o'er all prevail?	10	···/˘···˘/
Who that beheld that Sun upon thee set,	10	··˘/······
Fair Athens! could thine evening face forget?	10	·/˘··/˘·˘/
Not he--whose heart nor time nor distance frees,	10	·······/˘·
Spell-bound within the clustering Cyclades!	11	·····/˘˘˘/˘
Nor seems this homage foreign to its strain,	10	···/˘/˘···
His Corsair's isle was once thine own domain--	10	·/˘·····˘/
Would that with freedom it were thine again!	10	···/˘···˘/
The Sun hath sunk--and, darker than the night,	10	·····/˘···
Sinks with its beam upon the beacon height	10	·······/˘·
Medora's heart--the third day's come and gone--	10	˘/˘·······
With it he comes not--sends not--faithless one!	10	·······/˘·
The wind was fair though light! and storms were none.	10	··········
Last eve Anselmo's bark returned, and yet	10	··˘/˘·˘/··
His only tidings that they had not met!	10	·/˘/˘·····
Though wild, as now, far different were the tale	10	·····/˘···
Had Conrad waited for that single sail.	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
The night-breeze freshens--she that day had passed	10	···/˘·····
In watching all that Hope proclaimed a mast;	10	·/˘···˘/··
Sadly she sate on high--Impatience bore	10	/˘····˘/˘·
At last her footsteps to the midnight shore,	10	···/···/··
And there she wandered, heedless of the spray	10	···/˘/˘···
That dashed her garments oft, and warned away:	10	···/˘···˘/
She saw not, felt not this--nor dared depart,	10	········˘/
Nor deemed it cold--her chill was at her heart;	10	··········
Till grew such certainty from that suspense--	10	···/˘˘··˘/
His very Sight had shocked from life or sense!	10	·/˘·······
It came at last--a sad and shattered boat,	10	·······/˘·
Whose inmates first beheld whom first they sought;	10	·/··˘/····
Some bleeding--all most wretched--these the few--	10	·/˘··/˘···
Scarce knew they how escaped--this all they knew.	10	····˘/····
In silence, darkling, each appeared to wait	10	·/˘/˘·˘/··
His fellow's mournful guess at Conrad's fate:	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
Something they would have said; but seemed to fear	10	/˘········
To trust their accents to Medora's ear.	10	···/˘·˘/˘·
She saw at once, yet sunk not--trembled not--	10	·······/˘·
Beneath that grief, that loneliness of lot,	10	·····/˘˘··
Within that meek fair form, were feelings high,	10	·······/˘·
That deemed not till they found their energy.	10	·······/˘˘
While yet was Hope they softened, fluttered, wept--	10	·····/˘/˘·
All lost--that Softness died not--but it slept;	10	···/˘·····
And o'er its slumber rose that Strength which said,	10	···/˘·····
"With nothing left to love, there's nought to dread."	10	·/˘·······
'Tis more than Nature's--like the burning might	10	···/˘··/˘·
Delirium gathers from the fever's height.	10	˘/˘/˘··/˘·
"Silent you stand--nor would I hear you tell	10	/˘········
What--speak not--breathe not--for I know it well--	10	··········
Yet would I ask--almost my lip denies	10	····/···˘/
The--quick your answer--tell me where he lies."	10	···/˘·····
"Lady! we know not--scarce with life we fled;	10	/˘········
But here is one denies that he is dead:	10	····˘/····
He saw him bound; and bleeding--but alive."	10	·····/˘·˘/
She heard no further--'twas in vain to strive--	10	···/˘·····
So throbbed each vein--each thought--till then withstood;	10	········˘/
Her own dark soul--these words at once subdued:	10	········˘/
She totters--falls--and senseless had the wave	10	·/˘··/˘···
Perchance but snatched her from another grave;	10	˘/····˘/˘·
But that with hands though rude, yet weeping eyes,	10	·······/˘·
They yield such aid as Pity's haste supplies:hw	11	·····/˘·˘/·
Dash o'er her deathlike cheek the ocean dew,	10	···/˘··/˘·
Raise, fan, sustain--till life returns anew;	10	··˘/··˘/˘/
Awake her handmaids, with the matrons leave	10	˘/·····/˘·
That fainting form o'er which they gaze and grieve;	10	·/˘·······
Then seek Anselmo's cavern, to report	10	··˘/˘/˘·˘/
The tale too tedious--when the triumph short.	10	···/˘··/˘·
In that wild council words waxed warm and strange,hx	11	···/˘······
With thoughts of ransom, rescue, and revenge;	10	···/˘/˘·˘/
All, save repose or flight: still lingering there	10	··˘/···/˘·
Breathed Conrad's spirit, and forbade despair;	10	·/˘/˘·˘/˘/
Whate'er his fate--the breasts he formed and led	11	˘˘/········
Will save him living, or appease him dead.	10	···/˘·˘/··
Woe to his foes! there yet survive a few,	10	······˘/··
Whose deeds are daring, as their hearts are true.	10	···/˘·····
Within the Haram's secret chamber sate	10	·····/˘/˘·
Stern Seyd, still pondering o'er his Captive's fate;	10	···/˘··/˘·
His thoughts on love and hate alternate dwell,	10	······/˘··
Now with Gulnare, and now in Conrad's cell;	10	·······/˘·
Here at his feet the lovely slave reclined	10	·····/˘·˘/
Surveys his brow--would soothe his gloom of mind;	10	˘/········
While many an anxious glance her large dark eye	10	·/·/˘·····
Sends in its idle search for sympathy,	10	···/˘··/˘˘
His only bends in seeming o'er his beads,	10	·/˘··/˘···
But inly views his victim as he bleeds.	10	·/˘··/˘···
"Pacha! the day is thine; and on thy crest	10	··········
Sits Triumph--Conrad taken--fall'n the rest!	10	·/˘/˘/˘···
His doom is fixed--he dies; and well his fate	10	··········
Was earned--yet much too worthless for thy hate:	10	·····/˘···
Methinks, a short release, for ransom toldhy	11	˘/··˘/·/˘··
With all his treasure, not unwisely sold;	10	···/˘·˘/˘·
Report speaks largely of his pirate-hoard--	10	˘/·/˘··/˘·
Would that of this my Pacha were the lord!	10	··········
While baffled, weakened by this fatal fray--	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
Watched--followed--he were then an easier prey;	10	·/˘····/˘·
But once cut off--the remnant of his band	10	·····/˘···
Embark their wealth, and seek a safer strand."	10	˘/·····/˘·
"Gulnare!--if for each drop of blood a gem	10	··········
Where offered rich as Stamboul's diadem;	10	·/˘····/˘·
If for each hair of his a massy mine	10	·······/˘·
Of virgin ore should supplicating shine;	10	·/˘·······
If all our Arab tales divulge or dream	10	··//˘·˘/··
Of wealth were here--that gold should not redeem!	10	········˘/
It had not now redeemed a single hour,	11	····˘/·/˘/˘
But that I know him fettered, in my power;	11	·····/˘··/˘
And, thirsting for revenge, I ponder still	10	·/˘·˘/·/˘·
On pangs that longest rack--and latest kill."	10	···/˘··/˘·
"Nay, Seyd! I seek not to restrain thy rage,	10	······˘/··
Too justly moved for Mercy to assuage;	10	·/˘··/˘·˘/
My thoughts were only to secure for thee	10	···/˘·˘/··
His riches--thus released, he were not free:	10	·/˘·˘/····
Disabled--shorn of half his might and band,	10	˘/˘·······
His capture could but wait thy first command."	10	·/˘·····˘/
"His capture could!--and shall I then resign	10	·/˘·····˘/
One day to him--the wretch already mine?	10	······˘/˘·
Release my foe!--at whose remonstrance?--thine!	10	˘/····˘/˘·
Fair suitor!--to thy virtuous gratitude,	10	·/˘··/˘/˘·
That thus repays this Giaour's relenting mood,	10	···/··˘/˘·
Which thee and thine alone of all could spare--	10	····˘/····
No doubt, regardless--if the prize were fair--	10	··˘/˘·····
My thanks and praise alike are due--now hear!	10	····˘/····
I have a counsel for thy gentler ear:	10	···/˘··/˘·
I do mistrust thee, Woman! and each word	10	··˘/·/˘···
Of thine stamps truth on all Suspicion heard.hz	11	······˘/˘··
Borne in his arms through fire from yon Serai--	11	·····/··˘/˘
Say, wert thou lingering there with him to fly?	10	···/˘·····
Thou need'st not answer--thy confession speaks,	10	···/˘·˘/˘·
Already reddening on thy guilty cheeks:	10	˘/˘/˘··/˘·
Then--lovely Dame--bethink thee! and beware:	10	·/˘·˘/··˘/
'Tis not his life alone may claim such care!	10	····˘/····
Another word and--nay--I need no more.	10	˘/˘·······
Accursed was the moment when he bore	10	··˘··/˘···
Thee from the flames, which better far--but no--	10	·····/˘···
I then had mourned thee with a lover's woe--	10	·······/˘·
Now 'tis thy lord that warns--deceitful thing!	10	······˘/˘·
Know'st thou that I can clip thy wanton wing?	10	·······/˘·
In words alone I am not wont to chafe:	10	··˘/······
Look to thyself--nor deem thy falsehood safe!"	10	··˘/···/··
He rose--and slowly, sternly thence withdrew,	10	···/˘/˘·˘/
Rage in his eye, and threats in his adieu:	10	········˘/
Ah! little recked that Chief of womanhood--	10	·/˘····/˘·
Which frowns ne'er quelled, nor menaces subdued;	10	·····/˘˘˘/
And little deemed he what thy heart, Gulnare!	10	·/˘·······
When soft could feel--and when incensed could dare!	10	······/···
His doubts appeared to wrong--nor yet she knew	10	··˘/······
How deep the root from whence Compassion grew--	10	······˘/˘·
She was a slave--from such may captives claim	10	·······/˘·
A fellow-feeling, differing but in name;	10	·/˘/˘/˘···
Still half unconscious--heedless of his wrath,	10	···/˘/˘···
Again she ventured on the dangerous path,	10	˘/·/˘··/˘·
Again his rage repelled--until arose	10	˘/··˘/··˘/
That strife of thought, the source of Woman's woes!	10	·······/˘·
Meanwhile--long--anxious--weary--still the same	10	/··/˘/˘···
Rolled day and night: his soul could Terror tame--	10	·······/˘·
This fearful interval of doubt and dread,	10	·/˘/˘˘····
When every hour might doom him worse than dead;ia	12	·/˘/······/˘
When every step that echoed by the gate,	10	·/˘··/˘···
Might entering lead where axe and stake await;	10	·/˘·····˘/
When every voice that grated on his ear	10	·/˘··/˘···
Might be the last that he could ever hear;	10	·······/˘·
Could Terror tame--that Spirit stern and high	10	·/˘··/˘···
Had proved unwilling as unfit to die;	10	··˘/˘·˘/··
'Twas worn--perhaps decayed--yet silent bore	10	··˘/˘/·/˘·
That conflict, deadlier far than all before:	10	·/˘/˘·····
The heat of fight, the hurry of the gale,	10	·····/˘···
Leave scarce one thought inert enough to quail:	10	····˘/˘/··
But bound and fixed in fettered solitude,	10	·····/˘/˘·
To pine, the prey of every changing mood;	10	·····/˘/˘·
To gaze on thine own heart--and meditate	10	·······/˘·
Irrevocable faults, and coming fate--	10	˘/˘˘˘··/˘·
Too late the last to shun--the first to mend--	10	··········
To count the hours that struggle to thine end,	10	···/·/˘···
With not a friend to animate and tell	10	·····/˘···
To other ears that Death became thee well;	10	·/˘···˘/··
Around thee foes to forge the ready lie,	10	·······/˘·
And blot Life's latest scene with calumny;	10	···/˘··/˘˘
Before thee tortures, which the Soul can dare,	10	···/˘·····
Yet doubts how well the shrinking flesh may bear;	10	·····/˘···
But deeply feels a single cry would shame,	10	·/˘··/˘···
To Valour's praise thy last and dearest claim;	10	·/˘····/˘·
The life thou leav'st below, denied above	10	······˘/··
By kind monopolists of heavenly love;	10	··˘/˘·/˘˘·
And more than doubtful Paradise--thy Heaven	11	···/˘/˘··/˘
Of earthly hope--thy loved one from thee riven.	11	·/˘······/˘
Such were the thoughts that outlaw must sustain,	10	·····/··˘/
And govern pangs surpassing mortal pain:	10	·/˘·˘/˘/˘·
And those sustained he--boots it well or ill?	10	··˘/······
Since not to sink beneath, is something still!	10	·······/˘·
The first day passed--he saw not her--Gulnare--	10	··········
The second, third--and still she came not there;	10	·/˘·······
But what her words avouched, her charms had done,	10	··········
Or else he had not seen another Sun.	10	······˘/˘·
The fourth day rolled along, and with the night	10	····˘/····
Came storm and darkness in their mingling might.	10	···/˘··/˘·
Oh! how he listened to the rushing deep,	10	···/˘··/˘·
That ne'er till now so broke upon his sleep;	10	··········
And his wild Spirit wilder wishes sent,	10	···/˘/˘/˘·
Roused by the roar of his own element!	10	·······/˘˘
Oft had he ridden on that winged wave,	10	···/˘···˘·
And loved its roughness for the speed it gave;	10	···/˘·····
And now its dashing echoed on his ear,	10	···/˘/˘···
A long known voice--alas! too vainly near!	10	····˘/·/˘·
Loud sung the wind above; and, doubly loud,	10	·······/˘·
Shook o'er his turret cell the thunder-cloud;	10	···/˘··/˘·
And flashed the lightning by the latticed bar,	10	···/˘··/˘·
To him more genial than the Midnight Star:	10	···/˘··/··
Close to the glimmering grate he dragged his chain,	10	···/˘·····
And hoped that peril might not prove in vain.	10	···/˘·····
He rais'd his iron hand to Heaven, and prayed	10	···/··/˘··
One pitying flash to mar the form it made:	10	·/˘·······
His steel and impious prayer attract alike--	11	···˘/˘·˘/˘/
The storm rolled onward, and disdained to strike;	10	···/˘·˘/··
Its peal waxed fainter--ceased--he felt alone,	10	···/˘···˘/
As if some faithless friend had spurned his groan!	10	···/˘·····
The midnight passed, and to the massy door	10	·/·····/˘·
A light step came--it paused--it moved once more;	10	··········
Slow turns the grating bolt and sullen key:	10	···/˘··/˘·
'Tis as his heart foreboded--that fair She!	10	····˘/˘···
Whate'er her sins, to him a Guardian Saint,	11	˘˘/·····/˘·
And beauteous still as hermit's hope can paint;	11	·/˘˘··/˘···
Yet changed since last within that cell she came,	10	··········
More pale her cheek, more tremulous her frame:	10	·····/˘˘··
On him she cast her dark and hurried eye,	10	·······/˘·
Which spoke before her accents--"Thou must die!	10	·····/˘···
Yes, thou must die--there is but one resource,	10	········/˘
The last--the worst--if torture were not worse."	10	·····/˘···
"Lady! I look to none; my lips proclaim	10	/˘······˘/
What last proclaimed they--Conrad still the same:	10	··˘/·/˘···
Why should'st thou seek an outlaw's life to spare,	10	·····/····
And change the sentence I deserve to bear?	10	···/˘·˘/··
Well have I earned--nor here alone--the meed	10	······˘/··
Of Seyd's revenge, by many a lawless deed."	10	··˘/·/·/˘·
"Why should I seek? because--Oh! did'st thou not	10	··········
Redeem my life from worse than Slavery's lot?	10	˘/·····/˘·
Why should I seek?--hath Misery made thee blind	10	·····/˘···
To the fond workings of a woman's mind?	10	···/˘··/˘·
And must I say?--albeit my heart rebel	11	····˘/˘··/˘
With all that Woman feels, but should not tell--	10	···/˘·····
Because--despite thy crimes--that heart is moved:	10	··˘/······
It feared thee--thanked thee--pitied--maddened--loved.	10	·····/·/˘·
Reply not, tell not now thy tale again,	10	˘/······˘/
Thou lov'st another--and I love in vain:	10	··˘/˘·····
Though fond as mine her bosom, form more fair,	10	·····/˘···
I rush through peril which she would not dare.	10	···/˘·····
If that thy heart to hers were truly dear,	10	·······/˘·
Were I thine own--thou wert not lonely here:	10	·······/˘·
An outlaw's spouse--and leave her Lord to roam!	10	·/········
What hath such gentle dame to do with home?	10	···/˘·····
But speak not now--o'er thine and o'er my head	10	··········
Hangs the keen sabre by a single thread;ib	11	···/˘··/˘··
If thou hast courage still, and would'st be free,	10	···/˘·····
Receive this poniard--rise and follow me!"	10	˘/·/˘··/˘·
"Aye--in my chains! my steps will gently tread,	10	·······/˘·
With these adornments, o'er such slumbering head!	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
Thou hast forgot--is this a garb for flight?	10	··˘/······
Or is that instrument more fit for fight?"	10	···/˘˘····
"Misdoubting Corsair! I have gained the guard,	10	···/˘·····
Ripe for revolt, and greedy for reward.	10	··˘/·/˘·˘/
A single word of mine removes that chain:	10	·/˘···˘/··
Without some aid how here could I remain?	10	········˘/
Well, since we met, hath sped my busy time,	10	·······/˘·
If in aught evil, for thy sake the crime:	10	···/˘·····
The crime--'tis none to punish those of Seyd.	10	·····/˘···
That hatred tyrant, Conrad--he must bleed!	10	·/˘/˘/˘···
I see thee shudder, but my soul is changed--	10	···/˘·····
Wronged--spurned--reviled--and it shall be avenged--	10	··˘/····˘/
Accused of what till now my heart disdained--	10	˘/······˘/
Too faithful, though to bitter bondage chained.	10	·/˘··/˘/˘·
Yes, smile!--but he had little cause to sneer,	10	·····/˘···
I was not treacherous then, nor thou too dear:	10	···/˘·····
But he has said it--and the jealous well,--	10	·······/˘·
Those tyrants--teasing--tempting to rebel,--	10	·/˘/˘/˘·˘/
Deserve the fate their fretting lips foretell.	10	˘/···/˘·˘/
I never loved--he bought me--somewhat high--	10	·/˘····//·
Since with me came a heart he could not buy.	10	··········
I was a slave unmurmuring; he hath said,	11	···········
But for his rescue I with thee had fled.	10	···/˘·····
'Twas false thou know'st--but let such Augurs rue,	10	·······/˘·
Their words are omens Insult renders true.	10	···/˘/·/˘·
Nor was thy respite granted to my prayer;	10	···/˘/˘···
This fleeting grace was only to prepare	10	·/˘··/˘·˘/
New torments for thy life, and my despair.	10	·/······˘/
Mine too he threatens; but his dotage still	10	···/˘··/˘·
Would fain reserve me for his lordly will:	10	··˘/···/˘·
When wearier of these fleeting charms and me,	10	·····/˘···
There yawns the sack--and yonder rolls the sea!	10	·····/˘···
What, am I then a toy for dotard's play,	10	··········
To wear but till the gilding frets away?	10	·····/˘·˘/
I saw thee--loved thee--owe thee all--would save,	10	··········
If but to show how grateful is a slave.	10	·····/˘···
But had he not thus menaced fame and life,--	10	·····/˘···
And well he keeps his oaths pronounced in strife--	10	······˘/··
I still had saved thee--but the Pacha spared:	10	··········
Now I am all thine own--for all prepared:	10	········˘/
Thou lov'st me not--nor know'st--or but the worst.	10	··········
Alas! this love--that hatred--are the first--	10	˘/···/˘···
Oh! could'st thou prove my truth, thou would'st not start,	10	··········
Nor fear the fire that lights an Eastern heart;	10	···/···/˘·
'Tis now the beacon of thy safety--now	10	···/˘··/˘·
It points within the port a Mainote prow:	10	··········
But in one chamber, where our path must lead,	10	···/˘·/···
There sleeps--he must not wake--the oppressor Seyd!"	11	·······˘/˘·
"Gulnare--Gulnare--I never felt till now	10	·····/˘···
My abject fortune, withered fame so low:	10	·/˘/˘/˘···
Seyd is mine enemy; had swept my band	10	···/˘˘····
From earth with ruthless but with open hand,	10	···/˘··/˘·
And therefore came I, in my bark of war,	10	··········
To smite the smiter with the scimitar;	10	···/˘·····
Such is my weapon--not the secret knife;	10	···/˘··/˘·
Who spares a Woman's seeks not Slumber's life.	10	···/˘··/˘·
Thine saved I gladly, Lady--not for this;	10	···/˘/˘···
Let me not deem that mercy shown amiss.	10	·····/˘·˘/
Now fare thee well--more peace be with thy breast!	10	··········
Night wears apace, my last of earthly rest!"ic	11	··˘/···/˘··
"Rest! rest! by sunrise must thy sinews shake,	10	···/······
And thy limbs writhe around the ready stake,	10	·······/˘·
I heard the order--saw--I will not see--	10	···/˘·····
If thou wilt perish, I will fall with thee.	10	···/˘·····
My life--my love--my hatred--all below	10	·····/˘···
Are on this cast--Corsair! 'tis but a blow!	10	····/˘····
Without it flight were idle--how evade	10	·····/˘·˘/
His sure pursuit?--my wrongs too unrepaid,	10	··˘/······
My youth disgraced--the long, long wasted years,	10	··˘/···/˘·
One blow shall cancel with our future fears;	10	···/˘·//˘·
But since the dagger suits thee less than brand,	10	···/˘·····
I'll try the firmness of a female hand.	10	···/˘··/··
The guards are gained--one moment all were o'er--	10	·····/˘···
Corsair! we meet in safety or no more;	10	/˘···/˘···
If errs my feeble hand, the morning cloud	10	···/˘··/˘·
Will hover o'er thy scaffold, and my shroud."	10	·/˘··/˘···
She turned, and vanished ere he could reply,	10	···/˘···˘/
But his glance followed far with eager eye;	10	···/˘··/˘·
And gathering, as he could, the links that bound	10	·/˘·······
His form, to curl their length, and curb their sound,	10	··········
Since bar and bolt no more his steps preclude,	10	········˘/
He, fast as fettered limbs allow, pursued.	10	···/˘·˘/˘/
'Twas dark and winding, and he knew not where	10	···/˘·····
That passage led; nor lamp nor guard was there:	10	·/˘·······
He sees a dusky glimmering--shall he seek	10	···/˘/˘···
Or shun that ray so indistinct and weak?	10	·····˘˘/··
Chance guides his steps--a freshness seems to bear	10	·····/˘···
Full on his brow as if from morning air;	10	·······/˘·
He reached an open gallery--on his eye	10	···/˘/˘···
Gleamed the last star of night, the clearing sky:	10	·······/˘·
Yet scarcely heeded these--another light	10	·/˘/˘·˘/˘·

The first 400 of 696 lines; the reader marks them all.

Notes from the edition 15

E. H. Coleridge's notes to The Works of Lord Byron, Poetry, Vol. III (John Murray, 1900; Project Gutenberg #21811). Bracketed passages are the editor's; unbracketed are Byron's own or earlier editors'. Lettered variant readings (manuscript and edition collations) are not harvested here, matching the treatment of Coleridge's Don Juan notes.

Stanza 1, line 1 The opening lines, as far as section ii., have, perhaps, little business here, and were annexed to an unpublished (though printed) poem [The Curse of Minerva]; but they were written on the spot, in the Spring of 1811, and--I scarce know why--the reader must excuse their appearance here--if he can. [See letter to Murray, October 23, 1812.]
Stanza 1, line 7 [See Curse of Minerva, line 7, Poetical Works, 1898, i. 457. For Hydra, see A. L. Castellan's Lettres sur la Moree, 1820, i. 155-176. He gives (p. 174) a striking description of a sunrise off the Cape of Sunium.]
Stanza 2, line 4 Socrates drank the hemlock a short time before sunset (the hour of execution), notwithstanding the entreaties of his disciples to wait till the sun went down.
Stanza 3, line 2 The twilight in Greece is much shorter than in our own country: the days in winter are longer, but in summer of shorter duration.
Stanza 3, line 12 The Kiosk is a Turkish summer house: the palm is without the present walls of Athens, not far from the temple of Theseus, between which and the tree, the wall intervenes.--Cephisus' stream is indeed scanty, and Ilissus has no stream at all.

[E. Dodwell (Classical Tour, 1819, i. 371) speaks of "a magnificent palm tree, which shoots among the ruins of the Ptolemaion," a short distance to the east of the Theseion. There is an illustration in its honour. The Theseion--which was "within five minutes' walk" of Byron's lodgings (Travels in Albania, 1858, i. 259)--contains the remains of the scholar, John Tweddell, died 1793, "over which a stone was placed, owing to the exertions of Lord Byron" (Clarke's Travels, Part II. sect. i. p. 534). When Byron died, Colonel Stanhope proposed, and the chief Odysseus decreed, that he should be buried in the same spot.--Life, p. 640.]
Stanza 5, line 10 [After the battle of Salamis, B.C. 480, Paros fell under the dominion of Athens.]
Stanza 12, line 1 [Lines 1299-1375 were written after the completion of the poem. They were forwarded to the publisher in time for insertion in a revise dated January 6, 1814.]
Stanza 12, line 9 The comboloio, or Mahometan rosary; the beads are in number ninety-nine. [Vide ante, p. 181, The Bride of Abydos, Canto II. line 554.]
Stanza 19, line 16 ["By the way--I have a charge against you. As the great Mr. Dennis roared out on a similar occasion--'By G-d, that is my thunder!' so do I exclaim, 'This is my lightning!' I allude to a speech of Ivan's, in the scene with Petrowna and the Empress, where the thought and almost expression are similar to Conrad's in the 3d canto of The Corsair. I, however, do not say this to accuse you, but to exempt myself from suspicion, as there is a priority of six months' publication, on my part, between the appearance of that composition and of your tragedies" (Letter to W. Sotheby, September 25, 1815, Letters, 1899, iii. 219). The following are the lines in question:--

"And I have leapt In transport from my flinty couch, to welcome The thunder as it burst upon my roof, And beckon'd to the lightning, as it flash'd And sparkled on these fetters." Act iv. sc. 3 (Ivan, 1816, p. 64).

According to Moore, this passage in The Corsair, as Byron seemed to fear, was included by "some scribblers"--i.e. the "lumbering Goth" (see John Bull's Letter), A. A. Watts, in the Literary Gazette, February and March, 1821--among his supposed plagiarisms. Sotheby informed Moore that his lines had been written, though not published, before the appearance of the Corsair. The Confession, and Orestes, reappeared with three hitherto unpublished tragedies, Ivan, The Death of Darnley, and Zamorin and Zama, under the general title, Five Unpublished Tragedies, in 1814.

The story of the critic John Dennis (1657-1734) and the "thunder" is related in Cibber's Lives, iv. 234. Dennis was, or feigned to be, the inventor of a new method of producing stage-thunder, by troughs of wood and stops. Shortly after a play (Appius and Virginia) which he had put upon the stage had been withdrawn, he was present at a performance of Macbeth, at which the new "thunder" was inaugurated. "That is my thunder, by God!" exclaimed Dennis. "The villains will play my thunder, but not my plays."--Dict. Nat. Biog., art. "Dennis."]
Stanza 33, line 12 ["Tier" must stand for "hold." The "cable-tier" is the place in the hold where the cable is stowed.]
Stanza 35, line 8 [Compare--

"And I the cause--for whom were given Her peace on earth, her hopes in heaven." Marmion, Canto III. stanza xvii. lines 9, 10.]
Stanza 39, line 7 In the Levant it is the custom to strew flowers on the bodies of the dead, and in the hands of young persons to place a nosegay.

[Compare--"There shut it inside the sweet cold hand." Evelyn Hope, by Robert Browning.]
Stanza 39, line 13 [Compare--"And--but for that sad shrouded eye," etc. and the whole of the famous passage in the Giaour (line 68, sq., vide ante, p. 88), beginning--"He who hath bent him o'er the dead."]
Stanza 42, line 6 [Byron had, perhaps, explored the famous stalactite cavern in the island of Anti-Paros, which is described by Tournefort, Clarke, Choiseul-Gouffier, and other travellers.]
Stanza 43, line 19 That the point of honour which is represented in one instance of Conrad's character has not been carried beyond the bounds of probability, may perhaps be in some degree confirmed by the following anecdote of a brother buccaneer in the year 1814:--"Our readers have all seen the account of the enterprise against the pirates of Barataria; but few, we believe, were informed of the situation, history, or nature of that establishment. For the information of such as were unacquainted with it, we have procured from a friend the following interesting narrative of the main facts, of which he has personal knowledge, and which cannot fail to interest some of our readers:--Barataria is a bayou, or a narrow arm of the Gulf of Mexico; it runs through a rich but very flat country, until it reaches within a mile of the Mississippi river, fifteen miles below the city of New Orleans. This bayou has branches almost innumerable, in which persons can lie concealed from the severest scrutiny. It communicates with three lakes which lie on the south-west side, and these, with the lake of the same name, and which lies contiguous to the sea, where there is an island formed by the two arms of this lake and the sea. The east and west points of this island were fortified, in the year 1811, by a band of pirates, under the command of one Monsieur La Fitte. A large majority of these outlaws are of that class of the population of the state of Louisiana who fled from the island of St. Domingo during the troubles there, and took refuge in the island of Cuba; and when the last war between France and Spain commenced, they were compelled to leave that island with the short notice of a few days. Without ceremony they entered the United States, the most of them the state of Louisiana, with all the negroes they had possessed in Cuba. They were notified by the Governor of that State of the clause in the constitution which forbade the importation of slaves; but, at the same time, received the assurance of the Governor that he would obtain, if possible, the approbation of the General Government for their retaining this property.--The island of Barataria is situated about lat. 29 deg. 15 min., lon. 92. 30.; and is as remarkable for its health as for the superior scale and shell fish with which its waters abound. The chief of this horde, like Charles de Moor, had, mixed with his many vices, some transcendant virtues. In the year 1813, this party had, from its turpitude and boldness, claimed the attenti …

The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.

More by Lord Byron

Don Juan Childe Harold's Pilgrimage The Giaour, and Other Poems