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The Bride of Abydos

Lord Byron

"Had we never loved so kindly,
Had we never loved so blindly,
Never met or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted."
                            --- Burns


Canto the First.


Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle

Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime?

Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,

Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime !

Know ye the land of the cedar and vine,

Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine;

Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppress'd with perfume,

Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gúl in her bloom;

Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit,

And the voice of the nightingale never is mute:

Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky,

In colour though varied, in beauty may vie,

And the purple of ocean is deepest in dye;

Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine,

And all, save the spirit of man, is divine?

'Tis the clime of the East; 't is the land of the Sun ---

Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done?

Oh !   wild as the accents of lovers farewell

Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell.


Begirt with many a gallant slave,

Apparell'd as becomes the brave,

Awaiting each his lord's behest

To guide his steps, or guard his rest,

Old Giaffir sate in his Divan:

Deep thought was in his aged eye;

And though the face of Mussulman

Not oft betrays to standers by

The mind within, well skill'd to hide

All but unconquerable pride,

His pensive cheek and pondering brow

Did more than he was wont avow.


"Let the chamber be clear'd." --- The train disappear'd. ---

"Now call me the chief of the Haram guard."

With Giaffir is none but his only son,

And the Nubian awaiting the sire's award.

"Haroun --- when all the crowd that wait

Are pass'd beyond the outer gate,

( Woe to the head whose eye beheld

My child Zuleika's face unveil'd ! )

Hence, lead my daughter from her tower;

Her fate is fix'd this very hour:

Yet not to her repeat my thought;

By me alone be duty taught ! "

"Pacha !   to hear is to obey."

No more must slave to despot say ---

Then to the tower had ta'en his way,

But here young Selim silence brake

First lowly rendering reverence meet;

And downcast look'd, and gently spake,

Still standing at the Pacha's feet:

For son of Moslem must expire,

Ere dare to sit before his sire !

"Father !   for fear that thou shouldst chide

My sister, or her sable guide,

Know -- for the fault, if fault there be,

Was mine, then fall thy frowns on me ---

So lovelily the morning shown,

That --- let the old and weary sleep ---

I could not; and to view alone

The fairest scenes of land and deep,

With none to listen and reply

To thoughts with which my heart beat high

Were irksome --- for whate'er my mood,

In sooth I love not solitude;

I on Zuleika's slumber broke,

And, as thou knowest that for me

Soon turns the Haram's grating key,

Before the guardian slaves awoke

We to the cypress groves had flown,

And made earth, main, and heaven our own !

There linger'd we, beguiled too long

With Mejnoun's tale, or Sadi's song;

Till I, who heard the deep tambour

Beat thy Divan's approaching hour,

To thee, and to my duty true,

Warn'd by the sound, to greet thee flew:

But there Zuleika wanders yet ---

Nay, Father, rage not --- nor forget

That none can pierce that secret bower

But those who watch the women's tower."


"Son of a slave" --- the Pacha said ---

"From unbelieving mother bred,

Vain were a father's hope to see

Aught that beseems a man in thee.

Thou, when thine arm should bend the bow,

And hurl the dart, and curb the steed,

Thou, Greek in soul if not in creed,

Must pore where babbling waters flow,

And watch unfolding roses blow.

Would that you orb, whose matin glow

Thy listless eyes so much admire,

Would lend thee something of his fire !

Thou, who wouldst see this battlement

By Christian cannon piecemeal rent;

Nay, tamely view old Stambol's wall

Before the dogs of Moscow fall,

Nor strike one stroke for life and death

Against the curs of Nazareth !

Go --- let thy less than woman's hand

Assume the distaff --- not the brand.

But, Haroun! --- to my daughter speed;

And hark --- of thine own head take heed ---

If thus Zuleika oft take wing ---

Thou see'st yon bow --- it hat a sting ! "


No sound from Selim's lip was heard,

At least that met old Giaffir's ear,

But every frown and every word

Pierced keener than a Christian's sword.

"Son of a slave ---  reproach'd with fear!

Those gibes had cost another dear.

Son of a slave ---  and who my sire?"

Thus held his thoughts their dark career;

And glances ev'n of more than ire

Flash forth, then faintly disappear.

Old Giaffir gazed upon his son

And started; for within his eye

He read how much his wrath had done;

He saw rebellion there begun:

"Come hither, boy --- what, no reply?

I mark thee --- and I know thee too;

But there be deeds thou dar'st not do:

But if thy beard had manlier length,

And if thy hand had skill and strength,

I'd joy to see thee break a lance,

Albeit against my own perchance."

As sneeringly these accents fell,

On Selim's eye he fiercely gazed:

That eye return'd him glance for glance,

And proudly to his sire's was raised,

Till Giaffir's quail'd and shrunk askance ---

And why -- he felt, but durst not tell.

"Much I misdoubt this wayward boy

Will one day work me more annoy:

I never loved him from his birth,

And --- but his arm is little worth,

And scarcely in the chase could cope

With timid fawn or antelope,

Far less would venture into strife

Where man contends for fame and life ---

I would not trust that look or tone:

No -- nor the blood so near my own.

That blood --- he hath not heard --- no more ---

I'll watch him closer than before.

He is an Arab to my sight,

Or Christian crouching in the fight ---

But hark ---  I hear Zuleika's voice;

Like Houris' hymn it meets mine ear:

She is the offspring of my choice;

Oh! more than ev'n her mother dear,

With all to hope, and nought to fear ---

My Peri !   ever welcome here!

Sweet, as the desert fountain's wave

To lips just cool'd in time to save ---

Such to my longing sight art thou;

Nor can they waft to Mecca's shrine

More thanks for life, than I for thine,

Who blest thy birth and bless thee now."


Fair, as the first that fell of womankind,

When on that dread yet lovely serpent smiling,

Whose image then was stamp'd upon her mind ---

But once beguil'd --- and ever more beguiling;

Dazzling, as that, oh !   too transcendent vision

To Sorrow's phantom-peopled slumber given,

When heart meets heart again in dreams Elysian,

And paints the lost on Earth revived in Heaven;

Soft, as the memory of buried love;

Pure, as the prayer which Childhood wafts above,

Was she --- the daughter of that rude old Chief,

Who met the maid with tears --- but not of grief.

Who hath not proved how feebly words essay

To fix one spark of Beauty's heavenly ray?

Who doth not feel, until his failing sight

Faints into dimness with its own delight,

His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess

The might, the majesty of Loveliness?

Such was Zuleika, such around her shone

The nameless charms unmark'd by her alone ---

The light of love, the purity of grace,

The mind, the Music breathing from her face,

The heart whose softness harmonized the whole,

And oh !   that eye was in itself a Soul !

Her graceful arms in meekness bending

Across her gently-budding breast;

At one kind word those arms extending

To clasp the neck of him who blest

His child caressing and carest,

Zuleika came --- and Giaffir felt

His purpose half within him melt:

Not that against her fancied weal

His heart though stern could ever feel;

Affection chain'd her to that heart;

Ambition tore the links apart.


"Zuleika!   child of gentleness !

How dear this very day must tell,

When I forget my own distress,

In losing what I love so well,

To bid thee with another dwell:

Another !   and a braver man

Was never seen in battle's van.

We Moslem reck not much of blood;

But yet the line of Carasman

Unchanged, unchangeable hath stood

First of the bold Timariot bands

That won and well can keep their lands.

Enough that he who comes to woo

Is kinsman of the Bey Oglou:

His years need scarce a thought employ;

I would not have thee wed a boy.

And thou shalt have a noble dower:

And his and my united power

Will laugh to scorn the death-firman,

Which others tremble but to scan,

And teach the messenger what fate

The bearer of such boon may wait.

And now thou know'st thy father's will:

All that thy sex hath need to know:

'Twas mine to teach obedience still ---

The way to love, thy lord may show."


In silence bow'd the virgin's head;

And if her eye was fill'd with tears

That stifled feeling dare not shed,

And changed her cheek from pale to red,

And red to pale, as through her ears

Those winged words like arrows sped,

What could such be but maiden fears?

So bright the tear in Beauty's eye,

Love half regrets to kiss it dry;

So sweet the blush of Bashfulness,

Even Pity scarce can wish it less !

Whate'er it was the sire forgot;

Or if remember'd, mark'd it not;

Thrice clapp'd his hands, and call'd his steed,

Resign'd his gem-adorn'd chibouque,

And mounting featly for the mead,

With Maugrabee and Mamaluke,

His way amid his Delis took,

To witness many an active deed

With sabre keen, or blunt jerreed.

The Kislar only and his Moors

Watch well the Haram's massy doors.


His head was leant upon his hand,

His eye look'd o'er the dark blue water

That swiftly glides and gently swells

Between the winding Dardanelles;

But yet he saw nor sea nor strand,

Nor even his Pacha's turban'd band

Mix in the game of mimic slaughter,

Careering cleave the folded felt,

With sabre stroke right sharply dealt;

Nor mark'd the javelin-darting crowd

Nor heard their Ollahs wild and loud ---

He thought but of old Giaffir's daughter !


No word from Selim's bosom broke;

One sigh Zuleika's thought bespoke;

Still gazed he through the lattice grate,

Pale, mute, and mournfully sedate.

To him Zuleika's eye was turn'd,

But little from his aspect learn'd:

Equal her grief, yet not the same;

Her heart confess'd a gentler flame:

But yet that heart, alarm'd or weak,

She knew not why, forbade to speak.

Yet speak she must --- but when essay?

"How strange he thus should turn away !

Not thus we e'er before have met;

Nor thus shall be our parting yet."

Thrice paced she slowly through the room,

And watch'd his eye --- it still was fix'd:

She snatch'd the urn wherein was mix'd

The Persian Atar-gul's perfume,

And sprinkled all its odours o'er

The pictured roof and marble floor;

The drops, that through his glittering vest

The playful girl's appeal address'd,

Unheeded o'er his bosom flew,

As if that breast were marble too.

"What, sullen yet?  It must not be ---

Oh !   gentle Selim, this from thee ! "

She saw in curious order set

The fairest flowers of eastern land ---

"He loved them once; may touch them yet,

If offer'd by Zuleika's hand."

The childish thought was hardly breathed

Before the rose was pluck'd and wreathed;

The next fond moment saw her seat

Her fairy form at Selim's feet:

"This rose to calm my brother's cares

A message from the Bulbul bears;

It says to-night he will prolong

For Selim's ear his sweetest song;

And though his note is somewhat sad,

Hel'll try for once a strain more glad,

With some faint hope his alter'd lay

May sing these gloomy thoughts away.


"What !   not receive my foolish flower?

Nay then I am indeed unblest:

On me can thus thy forehead lower?

And know'st thou not who loves thee best?

Oh, Selim dear !    oh, more than dearest ! '

Say, is it me thou hat'st or fearest?

Come, lay thy head upon my breast,

And I will kiss thee into rest,

Since words of mine, and songs must fail,

Ev'n from my fabled nightingale.

I knew our sire at times was stern,

But this from thee had yet to learn:

Too well I know he loves thee not;

But is Zuleika's love forgot?

Ah! deem I right! the Pacha's plan ---

This kinsman Bey of Carasman

Perhaps may prove some foe of thine.

If so, I swear by Mecca's shrine, ---

If shrines that ne'er approach allow

To woman's step admit her vow, ---

Without thy free consent, command,

The Sultan should not have my hand!

Think'st thou that I could bear to part

With thee, and learn to halve my heart?

Ah !   were I sever'd from thy side,

Where were thy friend --- and who my guide?

Years have not seen, Time shall not see,

The hour that tears my soul from thee:

Ev'n Azrael, from his deadly quiver

When flies that shaft, and fly it must,

That parts all else, shall doom for ever

Our hearts to undivided dust ! "


He lived, he breathed, he moved, he felt;

He raised the maid from where she knelt;

His trance was gone, his keen eye shone

With thoughts that long in darkness dwelt;

With thoughts that burn --- in rays that melt.

As the stream late conceal'd

By the fringe of its willows,

When it rushes reveal'd

In the light of its billows;

As the bolt burst on high

From the black cloud that bound it,

Flash'd the soul of that eye

Through the long lashes round it.

A war-horse at the trumpet's sound,

A lion roused by heedless hound,

A tyrant waked to sudden strife

By graze of ill-directed knife,

Starts not to more convulsive life

Than he, who heard that vow, display'd,

And all, before repress'd, betray'd:

"Now thou art mine, for ever mine,

With life to keep, and scarce with life resign;

Now thou art mine, that sacred oath,

Though sworn by one, hath bound us both.

Yes, fondly, wisely hast thou done;

That vow hath saved more heads than one:

But blench not thou --- thy simplest tress

Claims more from me than tenderness;

I would not wrong the slenderest hair

That clusters round thy forehead fair,

For all the treasures buried far

Within the caves of Istakar.

This morning clouds upon me lower'd,

Reproaches on my head were shower'd,

And Giaffir almost call'd me coward !

Now I have motive to be brave;

The son of his neglected slave,

Nay, start not, 't was the term he gave,

May show, though little apt to vaunt,

A heart his words nor deeds can daunt.

His son, indeed ---  yet, thanks to thee,

Perchance I am, at least shall be;

But let our plighted secret vow

Be only known to us as now.

I know the wretch who dares demand

From Giaffir thy reluctant hand;

More ill-got wealth, a meaner soul

Holds not a Musselim's control:

Was he not bred in Egripo?

A viler race let Israel show !

But let that pass --- to none be told

Our oath; the rest shall time unfold.

To me and mine leave Osman Bey;

I've partisans for peril's day:

Think not I am what I appear;

I've arms, and friends, and vengeance near."


"Think not thou art what thou appearest!

My Selim, thou art sadly changed:

This morn I saw thee gentlest, dearest;

But now thou'rt from thyself estranged.

My love thou surely knew'st before,

It ne'er was less, nor can be more.

To see thee, hear thee, near thee stay,

And hate the night I know not why,

Save that we meet not but by day;

With thee to live, with thee to die,

I dare not to my hope deny:

Thy cheek, thine eyes, thy lips to kiss,

Like this --- and this --- no more than this;

For, Allah sure thy lips are flame:

What fever in thy veins is flushing?

My own have nearly caught the same,

At least I feel my cheek, too, blushing.

To soothe thy sickness, watch thy health,

Partake, but never waste thy wealth,

Or stand with smiles unmurmuring by,

And lighten half thy poverty;

Do all but close thy dying eye,

For that I could not live to try;

To these alone my thoughts aspire:

More can I do? Or thou require?

But, Selim, thou must answer why

We need so much of mystery?

The cause I cannot dream nor tell,

But be it, since thou say'st  'tis well;

Yet what thou mean'st by 'arms' and 'friends,'

Beyond my weaker sense extends.

I meant that Giaffir should have heard

The very vow I plighted thee;

His wrath would not revoke my word:

But surely he would leave me free.

Can this fond wish seem strange in me,

To be what I have ever been?

What other hath Zuleika seen

From simple childhood's earliest hour?

What other can she seek to see

Than thee, companion of her bower,

The partner of her infancy?

These cherish'd thoughts with life begun,

Say, why must I no more avow?

What change is wrought to make me shun

The truth; my pride, and thine till now?

To meet the gaze of stranger's eyes

Our law, our creed, our God denies;

Nor shall one wandering thought of mine

At such, our Prophet's will, repine:

No  happier made by that decree,

He left me all in leaving thee.

Deep were my anguish, thus compell'd

To wed with one I ne'er beheld:

This wherefore should I not reveal?

Why wilt thou urge me to conceal?

I know the Pacha's haughty mood

To thee hath never boded good;

And he so often storms at nought,

Allah! forbid that e'er he ought !

And why I know not, but within

My heart concealment weighs like sin.

If thoen such secrecy be crime,

And such it feels while lurking here;

Oh, Selim! tell me yet in time,

Nor leave me thus to thoughts of fear.

Ah !   yonder see the Tchocadar,

My father leaves the mimic war;

I tremble now to mee his eye --

Say, Selim, canst thou tell me why?"


"Zuleika --- to thy tower's retreat

Betake thee --- Giaffir I can greet:

And now with him I fain must prate

Of firmans, impost, levies, state.

There's fearful news from Danube's banks,

Our Visier nobly thins his ranks,

For which the Giaour may give him thanks !

Our Sultan hath a shorter way

Such costly triumph to repay.

But, mark me, when the twilight drum

Hath warn'd the troops to food and sleep,

Unto thy cell will Selim come:

Then softly from the Haram creep

Where we may wander by the deep:

Our garden battlements are steep;

Nor these will rash intruder climb

To list our words, or stint our time;

And if he doth, I want not steel

Which some have felt, and more may feel.

Then shalt thou learn of Selim more

Than thou hast heard or thought before:

Trust me Zuleika --- fear not me!

Thou know'st I hold a Haram key."

"Fear thee, my Selim! ne'er till now

Did word like this --- " "Delay not thou;

I keep the key --- and Haroun's guard

Have some, and hope of more reward.

To-night, Zuleika, thou shalt hear

My tale, my purpose, and my fear:

I am not, love !   what I appear."


Continued:  Canto the Second

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