Juan, and shuddering o'er his frame would creep;

230 And Haidee's sweet lips murmur'd like a brook

A wordless music, and her face so fair

Stirr'd with her dream as rose-leaves with the air;

3?

Or as the stirring of a deep clear stream

Within an Alpine hollow, when the wind

235 Walks o'er it, was she shaken by the dream,

The mystical usurper of the mind?

O'erpowering us to be whate'er may seem

Good to the soul which we no more can bind;

Strange state of being! (for 'tis still to be)

240 Senseless to feel, and with seal'd eyes to see.

31

She dream'd of being alone on the sea-shore,

Chain'd to a rock; she knew not how, but stir

5. An echo of Romeo's words to the impoverished apothecary: 'The world is not thy friend, nor the world's law' (Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet 5.1.72).

 .

728 / GEORGE GORDON, LORD BYRON

She could not from the spot, and the loud roar

Grew, and each wave rose roughly, threatening her;

And o'er her upper lip they seem'd to pour,

Until she sobb'd for breath, and soon they were

Foaming o'er her lone head, so fierce and high?

Each broke to drown her, yet she could not die.

32

Anon?she was released, and then she stray'd

O'er the sharp shingles0 with her bleeding feet, loose pebbles

And stumbled almost every step she made;

And something roll'd before her in a sheet,

Which she must still pursue howe'er afraid;

'Twas white and indistinct, nor stopp'd to meet

Her glance nor grasp, for still she gazed and grasp'd,

And ran, but it escaped her as she clasp'd. 33

The dream changed; in a cave she stood, its walls

Were hung with marble icicles; the work

Of ages on its water-fretted halls,

Where waves might wash, and seals might breed and lurk;

Her hair was dripping, and the very balls

Of her black eyes seemed turn'd to tears, and murk

The sharp rocks look'd below each drop they caught,

Which froze to marble as it fell, she thought. 34

And wet, and cold, and lifeless at her feet,

Pale as the foam that froth'd on his dead brow,

Which she essay'd in vain to clear, (how sweet

Were once her cares, how idle seem'd they now!)

Lay Juan, nor could aught renew the beat

Of his quench'd heart; and the sea dirges low

Rang in her sad ears like a mermaid's song,

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