Above their heads she held the lamp,

And still the light which there it threw, On Chang's dark brow the feverish damp

Was slowly gathering; and the hue Upon his cheek flush'd rich and brightly, And his clos'd lips just quivered slightly.

But Ching sleeps sound and calm as death;
You scarcely catch his even breath :---
Still lie the tides within, nor seem
As wrinkled by the faintest dream;
And o'er his cheek one soft smile keeps
Its silent home, nor varies ever;
All like some tender star, that sleeps
Upon the hush'd lap of the river.

And half inclined to each-(to thee,
Sweet Julia, would I thus had grown!)
Round either neck, it touch'd to see,
The other's arm was thrown;

But still the hand of one was clos'd,

Like his, whom pain and anger gall

And still the other's hand repos'd,

;

Like one who sleeps at peace with all.

The maiden look'd, and kindly drew

The curtain round the feverish brother; And wiped from off his brows the dew.

-Just then as if some dream or other

Had stung the troubled soul-he started,
And some wild word his pale lips parted.
The maid drew back; the fit was o'er,
He lay more tranquil than before.
She placed within his reach the mild

Cool drink that fever best relieved,

Gave one look more, and gently smiled,

Well pleased to think that she perceived
The poor youth's slumbers were already
Becoming more serene and steady.
Without the door her footsteps die,
When from the breast of Chang a sigh
Broke fiercely and impatiently.

It was a fair and summer night,

The moon had clombe her weary height :
Like him who scales the mountain's brow,
And slowly eyes the scene below,
As every spot he pass'd-delays,
And charms the languor from, his gaze,
She seem'd on high to pause and breathe
Her silence o'er the world beneath;
Watching as with an angel's pity
The dark rest of the giant City,
That death-like lay within its shroud,

As quiet as the heart of Sorrow;—
Or like a hush'd, unmoving cloud,

Whose sleep will wake in storm to-morrow.

Pale through the half-clos'd window strays
The meek smile of the wandering rays;
Along the floor it chequering gleameth,
And o'er the Indian brothers streameth.
As by that light so wan and chill,

His cheek-the sterner one's—you saw;
Its hue and aspect well might thrill
Your bosom with a startled awe.

"Out, out-" he muttered, " on this curst, "This loathly and unnatural tie!

"Oh! would that it one hour were burst,

66

Though with the next hour doom'd to die! "Am I not cut off from the joys,

"The proud life of the glorious earth? "Who comes to eye the monster boys,

"Nor feels his wonder brand our birth? "But, he can sleep, and sport, and laugh; "I, I alone this base cup quaff.

"O Light! sweet daughter of the Sun,

"When thou didst first behold me born, "Say, did these eyes thy glory shun,

66

"And feel thine eyes were

Why was I fated to inherit

-scorn!

"This vast desire, this mounting spirit?

66

Why doom'd to burn for knowledge, power,

"Fame; and whate'er our mortal dower

"Upon the lap of life bestows

"Poor balance for our mortal woes!

"Why doom'd to bear within my breast "A god-like, but self-scorching fire; "Thoughts, that like young birds in their nest "Deserted, and unfledged, expire;

"Yearning, nay struggling for the skies, "Which made their real destinies ?

"And love, fair love! each other thing,
"To which, like me, contempt may cling,
"Still hath the blessing of its kind,
"Still its connubial rite may find.

"Earth, air, sea-yea, the leaves that fall,
"The smallest drop that swells the tide,
"Can grant its living myriads all

"That is to me denied!

"Am I not formed as others?

Are

"The sense, sight, sound-delight and fire

"Of beauty bann'd me—can I bar
"From my quick heart the keen desire,
"That vague, wild, circling as the air,
"Blends with each single impulse there?

"And thou, oh, thou! at whose least look My heart leaps up, as at the voice

66

"Of the west wind-the enamoured brook "Leaps up to revel and rejoice: "Beneath thy touch, how can I thrill, "Yet bid my bounding veins be still?"And when thou smilest on another, "How can my soul its fury smother— "Ev'n though that smile be on my brother?"

Here broke his thoughts into a dark,

And wild, and warring tide;

And silently he stoop'd, to mark

The sleeper by his side.

At first his look was dread and stern,

As if to hate all love could turn.

And terrible it was to see

The contrast of the pair;
The smile, and the tranquillity-
The wrung brow, the despair.

But o'er the waker's features slowly,

And shade by shade, a soft change stole, As memories dear, and fond and holy,

Broke forth like moonbeams on his soul: As moonbeams, when they gradual fall Some dim and lonely churchyard o'er ; And make but soft and sacred all

That rous'd the wanderer's awe before.

END OF CHAPTER I. OF BOOK II.