Since he refixed the Moslem's sway;
And now he led the Mussulman,

And gave the guidance of the van

To Alp, who well repaid the trust

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By cities levelled with the dust;

And proved, by many a deed of death,
How firm his heart in novel faith.

And as the fabric sank beneath

The shattering shell's volcanic breath,

In red and wreathing columns flashed
The flame, as loud the ruin crashed,
Or into countless meteors driven,

Its earth-stars melted into heaven;

Whose clouds that day grew doubly dun,
Impervious to the hidden sun,

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With volumed smoke that slowly grew

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To one wide sky of sulphurous hue.

VII,

But not for vengeance, long delayed,
Alone, did Alp, the renegade,

The Moslem warriors sternly teach

His skill to pierce the promised breach :

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Within these walls a maid was pent

His hope would win, without consent
Of that inexorable sire,

Whose heart refused him in its ire,

When Alp, beneath his Christian name,

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Her virgin hand aspired to claim.

In happier mood, and earlier time,

While unimpeached for traitorous crime,
Gayest in gondola or hall,

He glittered through the Carnival;

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And tuned the softest serenade

That e'er on Adria's waters played

At midnight to Italian maid.

VIII.

And
many deemed her heart was won;
For sought by numbers, given to none,
Had young Francesca's hand remained

Still by the church's bonds unchained :
And when the Adriatic bore

Lanciotto to the Paynim shore,

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Her wonted smiles were seen to fail,

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And pensive waxed the maid and pale;

More constant at confessional,

More rare at masque and festival;

Or seen at such, with downcast eyes,

Which conquered hearts they ceased to prize: 160

With listless look she seems to gaze;
With humbler care her form arrays;

Her voice less lively in the song;

Her step, though light, less fleet among
The pairs, on whom the Morning's glance
Breaks, yet unsated with the dance.

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IX.

Sent by the state to guard the land,

(Which, wrested from the Moslem's hand, While Sobieski tamed his pride

By Buda's wall and Danube's side,

The chiefs of Venice wrung away

From Patra to Euboea's bay,)
Minotti held in Corinth's towers
The Doge's delegated powers,

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Had fairer form adorned the shore

Than she, the matchless stranger, bore.

X.

The wall is rent, the ruins yawn;

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And, with to-morrow's earliest dawn,

O'er the disjointed mass shall vault

The foremost of the fierce assault.
The bands are ranked; the chosen van
Of Tartar and of Mussulman,
The full of hope, misnamed "forlorn,"
Who hold the thought of death in scorn,
And win their way with falchions' force,
Or pave the path with many a corse,
O'er which the following brave may rise,
Their stepping-stone-the last who dies!

XI.

"Tis midnight: on the mountain's brown

The cold, round moon shines deeply down;

Blue roll the waters, blue the sky

Spreads like an ocean hung on high,
Bespangled with those isles of light,
So wildly, spiritually bright;
Who ever gazed upon them shining,
And turned to earth without repining,
Nor wished for wings to flee away,
And mix with their eternal ray?
The waves on either shore lay there

Calm, clear, and azure as the air;

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