Come and assert thy birth-right while thou canst. A robber's cave is better than a dungeon;

And death itself, what is it at the worst,

What but a harlequin's leap?" Him I had known,
Had served with, suffered with; and on the walls
Of CAPUA, while the moon went down, I swore
Allegiance on his dagger.--Dost thou ask
How I have kept my oath ?-Thou shalt be told,
Cost what it may. But grant me, I implore,
Grant me a passport to some distant land,
That I may never, never more be named.
Thou wilt, I know thou wilt.

When on a vineyard-hill we lay concealed
And scattered up and down as we were wont,
I heard a damsel singing to herself,

And soon espied her, coming all alone,
In her first beauty. Up a path she came,
Leafy and intricate, singing her song,
A song of love, by snatches; breaking off
If but a flower, an insect in the sun
Pleased for an instant; then as carelessly
The strain resuming, and, where'er she stopt,
Rising on tiptoe underneath the boughs

To pluck a grape in very wantonness.

Her look, her mien and maiden-ornaments

Shewed gentle birth; and, step by step, she came

Nearer and nearer, to the dreadful snare.
None else were by; and, as I gazed unseen,
Her youth, her innocence and gaiety

Went to my heart! and, starting up, I breathed,
"Fly-for your life!" Alas, she shrieked, she fell;
And, as I caught her falling, all rushed forth.
"A Wood-nymph!" cried RUSCONI. "By the light,
Lovely as Hebe! Lay her in the shade."

I heard him not. I stood as in a trance.

66

What," he exclaimed with a malicious smile,
“Wouldst thou rebel?" I did as he required.
"Now bear her hence to the well-head below;
A few cold drops will animate this marble.
Go! 'Tis an office all will envy thee;

But thou hast earned it." As I staggered down,
Unwilling to surrender her sweet body;

Her golden hair dishevelled on a neck

Of snow, and her fair eyes closed as in sleep, Frantic with love, with hate, "Great God!" I cried, (I had almost forgotten how to pray;

But there are moments when the courage comes)

66

Why may I not, while yet—while yet I can,

Release her from a thraldom worse than death?"
'Twas done as soon as said. I kissed her brow,
And smote her with my dagger. A short cry
She uttered, but she stirred not; and to heaven
Her gentle spirit fled. 'Twas where the path

In its descent turned suddenly. No eye
Observed me, though their steps were following fast.
But soon a yell broke forth, and all at once
Levelled with deadly aim. Then I had ceased
To trouble or be troubled, and had now

(Would I were there!) been slumbering in my grave, Had not RUSCONI with a terrible shout

Thrown himself in between us, and exclaimed,
Grasping my arm, ""Tis bravely, nobly done!
Is it for deeds like these thou wear'st a sword?
Was this the business that thou cam'st upon?
-But 'tis his first offence, and let it pass.
Like the young tiger he has tasted blood,
And may
do much hereafter. He can strike
Home to the hilt." Then in an under-tone,
"Thus would'st thou justify the pledge I gave,
When in the eyes of all I read distrust?

For once," and on his cheek, methought, I saw
The blush of virtue, "I will save thee, Albert;
Again I cannot.”

Ere his tale was told,

As on the heath we lay, my ransom came;
And in six days, with no ungrateful mind,

Albert was sailing on a quiet sea.

-But the night wears, and thou art much in need The young Antonio, with his torch,

Of rest.

Is waiting to conduct thee to thy chamber.

THIS region, surely, is not of the earth.*
Was it not dropt from heaven? Not a grove,
Citron or pine or cedar, not a grot

Sea-worn and mantled with the gadding vine,
But breathes enchantment. Not a cliff but flings
On the clear wave some image of delight,

SANNAZARO.

Some cabin-roof glowing with crimson flowers,
Some ruined temple or fallen monument,

To muse on as the bark is gliding by.

And be it mine to muse there, mine to glide, From day-break, when the mountain pales his fire Yet more and more, and from the mountain-top, Till then invisible, a smoke ascends,

Solemn and slow, as erst from ARARAT,

When he, the Patriarch, who escaped the Flood,
Was with his house-hold sacrificing there—
From day-break to that hour, the last and best,
When, one by one, the fishing-boats come forth,
Each with its glimmering lantern at the prow,
And, when the nets are thrown, the evening-hymn
Steals o'er the trembling waters.

Everywhere

Fable and Truth have shed, in rivalry,

Each her peculiar influence. Fable came,

And laughed and sung, arraying Truth in flowers,
Like a young child her grandam. Fable came,
Earth, sea and sky reflecting, as she flew,
A thousand, thousand colours not their own;
And at her bidding, lo! a dark descent
TO TARTARUS, and those thrice happy fields,
Those fields with ether pure and purple light
Ever invested, scenes by Him pourtrayed,*

* VIRGIL.