190
MARITORNE; OR, THE PIRATE OF MEXICO.
As a being all guilty and trembling would rest
Self-accused, self-condemned, in the land of the blest.
And he, its wild wearer, how heard he the tale?
His eye flashed the darker, his lip grew more pale;
But when it was finished and Clara knelt down,
Where, where was his anger, and where was his frown?
On her forehead he printed a passionate kiss.
"O Clara, forgive me! remember not this,
But forget not that thou, and thou only, shalt know
The cause of my madness, my guilt, and my woe.
If T fall, thou wilt read it in letters of blood
'Neath the stone, near 'the rock, where the beaconlight glowed;
If I live,"—and he hastily bowed himself,—"then
The Fiend and the pirate were masters again."
······
······
A light is on the waters, and the dip
Of distant oars is heard from steep to steep:
The hum of voices float upon the air,
Soft, yet distinct, though distant, full and clear.
Come they to Barritaria's Isle as midnight foes?
'Tis well! the world but roughly with them goes.
Come they to Barritaria's Isle to join
Their traitor arms, proud Maritorne, with thine?
O, better had they never left yon shore,
To which they may return again no more;
Fools! think they he is bleeding in a strife
Where every drop writes guilt upon his life
For gold, for fame, for power, for aught on' earth
Self-accused, self-condemned, in the land of the blest.
And he, its wild wearer, how heard he the tale?
His eye flashed the darker, his lip grew more pale;
But when it was finished and Clara knelt down,
Where, where was his anger, and where was his frown?
On her forehead he printed a passionate kiss.
"O Clara, forgive me! remember not this,
But forget not that thou, and thou only, shalt know
The cause of my madness, my guilt, and my woe.
If T fall, thou wilt read it in letters of blood
'Neath the stone, near 'the rock, where the beaconlight glowed;
If I live,"—and he hastily bowed himself,—"then
The Fiend and the pirate were masters again."
······
······
A light is on the waters, and the dip
Of distant oars is heard from steep to steep:
The hum of voices float upon the air,
Soft, yet distinct, though distant, full and clear.
Come they to Barritaria's Isle as midnight foes?
'Tis well! the world but roughly with them goes.
Come they to Barritaria's Isle to join
Their traitor arms, proud Maritorne, with thine?
O, better had they never left yon shore,
To which they may return again no more;
Fools! think they he is bleeding in a strife
Where every drop writes guilt upon his life
For gold, for fame, for power, for aught on' earth
