As if within that murkiness of mind
Work'd feelings fearful, and yet undefined;
Such might it be—that none could truly tell—
Too close enquiry his stern glance would quell.
There breathe but few whose aspect might defy
The full encounter of his searching eye;—
He had the skill, when Cunning's gaze would seek
To probe his heart and watch his changing cheek, 220
At once the observer's purpose to espy,
And on himself roll back his scrutiny,
Lest he to Conrad rather should betray
Some secret thought—than drag that chief's to day.
There was a laughing Devil in his sneer,
That raised emotions both of rage and fear;
And where his frown of hatred darkly fell,
Hope withering fled—and Mercy sighed farewell!
Slight are the outward signs of evil thought,
Within—within—'twas there the spirit wrought! 230
Love shows all changes—Hate, Ambition, Guile,
Betray no further than the bitter smile;