LIL.

He enter'd in the house-his home no more,
For without hearts there is no home; - and felt
The solitude of passing his own door

Without a welcome: there he long had dwelt,
There his few peaceful days Time had swept o'er,
There his worn bosom and keen eye would melt
Over the innocence of that sweet child,
His only shrine of feelings undefiled.

LIII.

He was a man of a strange temperament,

Of mild demeanour though of savage mood,
Moderate in all his habits, and content

With temperance in pleasure, as in food,
Quick to perceive, and strong to bear, and meant
For something better, if not wholly good;
His country's wrongs and his despair to save her
Had stung him from a slave to an enslaver.
LIV.

The love of power, and rapid gain of gold,

The hardness by long habitude produced,
The dangerous life in which he had grown old,
The mercy he had granted oft abused,
The sights he was accustom'd to behold,

The wild seas, and wild men with whom he cruised, Had cost his enemies a long repentance,

And made him a good friend, but bad acquaintance.

1 ["And make him Samson-like-more fierce with blindness."- MS.]

2 ["Not so the single, deep, and wordless ire, Of a strong human heart," &c. - MS.]

3 ["I said, I disliked the custom which some people had of bringing their children into company, because it in a manner forced us to pay foolish compliments to please their parents." JOHNSON. You are right, sir; we may be excused for not caring much about other people's children, for there are many who care very little about their own."— Boswell, vol. vi. p. 47. ed. 1835.]

4 ["Almost all Don Juan is real life, either my own, or from peole I knew. By the way, much of the description of the furniture, in Canto Third, is taken from Tully's Tripoli

LVIII.

The cubless tigress in her jungle raging
Is dreadful to the shepherd and the flock;
The ocean when its yeasty war is waging
Is awful to the vessel near the rock;
But violent things will sooner bear assuaging,
Their fury being spent by its own shock,
Than the stern, single, deep, and wordless ire?
Of a strong human heart, and in a sire.
LIX.

It is a hard although a common case

To find our children running restive—they In whom our brightest days we would retrace, Our little selves re-form'd in finer clay, Just as old age is creeping on apace, And clouds come o'er the sunset of our day, They kindly leave us, though not quite alone, But in good company. the gout or stone.

LX.

Yet a fine family is a fine thing

(Provided they don't come in after dinner);3 'Tis beautiful to see a matron bring

Her children up (if nursing them don't thin her); Like cherubs round an altar-piece they cling

To the fire-side (a sight to touch a sinner).
A lady with her daughters or her nicces
Shine like a guinea and seven-shilling pieces.

LXI.

Old Lambro pass'd unseen a private gate,
And stood within his hall at eventide;
Meantime the lady and her lover sate

At wassail in their beauty and their pride:
An ivory inlaid table spread with state

Before them, and fair slaves on every side; 4 Gems, gold, and silver, form'd the service mostly, Mother of pearl and coral the less costly. "

LXII.

The dinner made about a hundred dishes;

Lamb and pistachio nuts in short, all meats,
And saffron soups, and sweetbreads; and the fishes
Were of the finest that e'er flounced in nets,
Drest to a Sybarite's most pamper'd wishes;
The beverage was various sherbets

Of raisin, orange, and pomegranate juice,
Squeezed through the rind, which makes it best for use. 6

LXIII.

These were ranged round, each in its crystal ewer, And fruits, and date-bread loaves closed the repast, And Mocha's berry, from Arabia pure,

In small fine China cups, came in at last; Gold cups of filigree made to secure

The hand from burning underneath them placed, Cloves, cinnamon, and saffron too were boil'd Up with the coffee, which (I think) they spoil'd.7

(pray note this), and the rest from my own observation. Remember, I never meant to conceal this at all, and have only not stated it, because Don Juan had no preface, nor name to it." Lord B. to Mr. Murray, Aug. 23. 1821.]

["A small table is brought in, when refreshments are served; it is of ebony, inlaid with mother-o'-pearl, tortoiseshell, ivory, gold, and silver."- Tully's Tripoli, 4to. 1816, p. 133.]

6 ["The beverage was various sherbets, composed of the juice of boiled raisins, oranges, and pomegranates, squeezed through the rind."— Ibid. p. 137.]

7 ["Coffee was served in small China cups; gold filigree cups were put under them. They introduced cloves, cinna mon, and saffron into the coffee."— Ibid. p. 132.]

Of the apartment-and appear'd quite new ; The velvet cushions (for a throne more meet) Were scarlet, from whose glowing centre grew A sun emboss'd in gold +, whose rays of tissue, Meridian-like, were seen all light to issue. 5 LXVIII.

Crystal and marble, plate and porcelain,

Had done their work of splendour; Indian mats And Persian carpets, which the heart bled to stain, Over the floors were spread; gazelles and cats, And dwarfs and blacks, and such like things, that gain Their bread as ministers and favourites-(that's To say, by degradation) — mingled there

As plentiful as in a court, or fair.

LXIX.

There was no want of lofty mirrors, and
The tables, most of ebony inlaid
With mother of pearl or ivory, stood at hand,
Or were of tortoise-shell or rare woods made,

["The hangings of the room were of tapestry, made in panels of different coloured velvets, thickly inlaid with flowers of silk damask; a yellow border finished the tapestry at top and bottom, the upper border being embroidered with Moorish sentences out of the Koran in lilac letters. - Tully, p. 133.]

2 [See the Eclectic Review among the "Testimonies of Authors," antè, p. 580.]

3 For that 's the name they like to cant beneath."MS.)

["The carpet was of crimson satin with a deep border of pale blue. The cushions that lay around were of crimson velvet; the centre ones were embroidered with a sun in gold."]

["The upholsterer's' fiat lux' had bade to issue."-MS.] [ Her chemise was covered with gold embroidery at the neck; over it she wore a gold and silver tissue jelick, with coral and pearl buttons, set quite close together down the front. The baracan she wore over her dress was of the finest crimson transparent gauzes, between rich silk stripes of the same colour."-Tully, p. 31.]

Fretted with gold or silver:-by command,

The greater part of these were ready spread With viands and sherbets in ice- and wineKept for all comers, at all hours to dine.

LXX.

Of all the dresses I select Haidée's:

She wore two jelicks-one was of pale yellow; Of azure, pink, and white was her chemise'Neath which her breast heaved like a little billow; With buttons form'd of pearls as large as peas,

All gold and crimson shone her jelick's fellow, And the striped white gauze baracan that bound her, Like fleecy clouds about the moon, flow'd round her. 6 LXXI.

One large gold bracelet clasp'd each lovely arm,
Lockless-so pliable from the pure gold
That the hand stretch'd and shut it without harm,
The limb which it adorn'd its only mould
So beautiful-its very shape would charm,
And clinging as if loath to lose its hold,
The purest ore enclosed the whitest skin
That e'er by precious metal was held in. 7
LXXII.

Around, as princess of her father's land,
A like gold bar above her instep roll'd, 8
Announced her rank; twelve rings were on her hand;
Her hair was starr'd with gems; her veil's fine fold
Below her breast was fasten'd with a band

Of lavish pearls, whose worth could scarce be told;
Her orange silk full Turkish trousers furl'd
Above the prettiest ankle in the world.

LXXIII.

Her hair's long auburn waves down to her heel Flow'd like an Alpine torrent which the sun Dyes with his morning light,—and would conceal Her person 9 if allow'd at large to run,

And still they seem resentfully to feel

The silken fillet's curb, and sought to shun Their bonds whene'er some Zephyr caught began To offer his young pinion as her fan.

LXXIV.

Round her she made an atmosphere of life,
The very air seem'd lighter from her eyes,
They were so soft and beautiful, and rife
With all we can imagine of the skies,
And pure as Psyche ere she grew a wife

Too pure even for the purest human ties;
Her overpowering presence made you feel
It would not be idolatry to kneel. 10

7 This dress is Moorish, and the bracelets and bar are worn in the manner described. The reader will perceive hereafter, that as the mother of Haidée was of Fez, her daughter wore the garb of the country.

The bar of gold above the instep is a mark of sovereign rank in the women of the families of the deys, and is worn as such by their female relatives.

9 This is no exaggeration: there were four women whom I remember to have seen, who possessed their hair in this profusion; of these, three were English, the other was a Levantine. Their hair was of that length and quantity, that, when let down, it almost entirely shaded the person, so as nearly to render dress a superfluity. Of these, only one had dark hair; the Oriental's had, perhaps, the lightest colour of

the four.

LXXV.

Her eyelashes, though dark as night, were tinged
(It is the country's custom 1), but in vain;
For those large black eyes were so blackly fringed,
The glossy rebels mock'd the jetty stain,
And in their native beauty stood avenged:

Her nails were touch'd with henna; but again
The power of art was turn'd to nothing, for
They could not look more rosy than before.
LXXVI.

The henna should be deeply dyed to make
The skin relieved appear more fairly fair;
She had no need of this, day ne'er will break

On mountain tops more heavenly white than her;
The eye might doubt if it were well awake,
She was so like a vision; I might err,
But Shakspeare also says, 't is very silly
"To gild refined gold, or paint the lily."
LXXVII.

Juan had on a shawl of black and gold,

But a white baracan, and so transparent
The sparkling gems beneath you might behold,

Like small stars through the milky way apparent; His turban, furl'd in many a graceful fold,

An emerald aigrette with Haidée's hair in 't
Surmounted, as its clasp, a glowing crescent,
Whose rays shone ever trembling, but incessant.
LXXVIII.

And now they were diverted by their suite,
Dwarfs, dancing girls, black eunuchs, and a poet,
Which made their new establishment complete ;
The last was of great fame, and liked to show it:
His verses rarely wanted their due feet.
-he seldom sung below it,
He being paid to satirise or flatter,
As the psalm says, "inditing a good matter."

And for his theme

LXXIX.

He praised the present, and abused the past,
Reversing the good custom of old days,
An Eastern anti-jacobin at last

He turn'd, preferring pudding to no praise—
For some few years his lot had been o'ercast
By his seeming independent in his lays,
But now he sung the Sultan and the Pacha
With truth like Southey, and with verse like Crashaw. 2
LXXX.

He was a man who had seen many changes,

And always changed as true as any needle; His polar star being one which rather ranges,

And not the fix'd - he knew the way to wheedle:
So vile he 'scaped the doom which oft avenges;
And being fluent (save indeed when fee'd ill),
He lied with such a fervour of intention-
There was no doubt he earn'd his laureate pension.
LXXXI.

But he had genius, when a turncoat has it,
The "Vates irritabilis" takes care
That without notice few full moons shall pass it;
Even good men like to make the public stare : —

["It was, and still is, the custom to tinge the eyes of the women with an impalpable powder, prepared chiefly from crude antimony. This pigment, when applied to the inner surface of the lids, communicates to the eye a tender and fascinating languor."- HADESCI.]

2["Believed like Southey and perused like Crashaw." -MS." Crashaw, the friend of Cowley, was honoured," says Warton, "with the praise of Pope; who both read his poems and borrowed from them. Being ejected from his fellowship

2.

The Scian and the Teian muse, 2
The hero's harp, the lover's lute,
Have found the fame your shores refuse;
Their place of birth alone is mute
To sounds which echo further west
Than your sires' "Islands of the Blest." 3

3.

The mountains look on Marathon + —
And Marathon looks on the sea;
And musing there an hour alone,

I dream'd that Greece might still be free;

For standing on the Persians' grave,

I could not deem myself a slave.

4.

A king sate on the rocky brow

Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis; And ships, by thousands, lay below,

And men in nations; all were his ! He counted them at break of day — And when the sun set where were they? > 5.

And where are they? and where art thou, My country? On thy voiceless shore

The heroic lay is tuneless now—

The heroic bosom beats no more!
And must thy lyre, so long divine,
Degenerate into hands like mine?
6.

'Tis something, in the dearth of fame,
Though link'd among a fetter'd race,
To feel at least a patriot's shame,

Even as I sing, suffuse my face; For what is left the poet here?

For Greeks a blush-for Greece a tear.
7.

Must we but weep o'er days more blest?
Must we but blush ?- Our fathers bled.
Earth render back from out thy breast
A remnant of our Spartan dead!
Of the three hundred grant but three,
To make a new Thermopyla!

3 The most paxag of the Greek poets were supposed to have been the Cape de Verd Islands or the Canaries. 4["Eubora looks on Marathon,

And Marathon looks on the sea," &c. - MS.]
5 "Deep were the groans of Xerxes, when he saw
This havoc; for his seat, a lofty mound
Commanding the wide sea, o'erlook'd the hosts.
With rueful cries he rent his royal robes,
And through his troops embattled on the shore
Gave signal of retreat; then started wild
And fled disorder'd."-ESCHYLUS.

6" Which Hercules might deem his own."- MS.]
* Γίνομαι

7

ἐν' ύλαιν ἐπεστε ποντου

Place me on Sunium's marbled steep, Where nothing, save the waves and I, May hear our mutual murmurs sweep; There, swan-like, let me sing and die : 7 A land of slaves shall ne'er be mineDash down yon cup of Samian wine! 8

προβλημ ̓ ἁλικλυστον, άκραν

ύπο πλακα Σουνίου. κ. τ. λ. - Sorn. Ajur, ν. 1217. [This glorious Ode on the aspirations of Greece after Liberty is instantly followed up by a strain of cold-blooded ribaldry: and, in this way, all good feelings are excited only to accustom us to their speedy and complete extinction, and we are brought back, from their transient and theatrical exhibition, to the staple and substantial doctrine of the work — the non-existence of constancy in women, or honour in men, and the folly of expecting to meet with any such virtues, or of cultivating them for an undeserving world; - and all this mixed up with so much wit and cleverness, and knowledge of human nature, as to make it irresistibly pleasant and plausible while there is not only no antidote supplied, but every thing that might have operated in that way has been antici pated, and presented already in as strong and engaging a form as possible. -JEFFREY.]