then

One noon of a bright summer's day
I pass'd from out the matted bow'r
Where in a deep, still slumber lay
My Ada. In that peaceful hour,
A silent gaze was my farewell.
I had no other solace
T'awake her, and a falsehood tell
Of a feign'd journey, were again
To trust the weakness of my heart
To her soft thrilling voice: To part
Thus, haply, while in sleep she dream'd
Of long delight, nor yet had deem'd
Awake, that I had held a thought
Of parting, were with madness fraught;

I knew not woman's heart, alas!
Tho' lov'd, and loving- let it pass.-

XIV.

275

280

285

290

295

165-176 For these lines, 1831 substitutes the following:

Say, holy father, breathes there yet

A rebel or a Bajazet?

How now why tremble, man of gloom,

As if my words were the Simoom!

Why do the people bow the knee,

To the young Tamerlane - to me!