XVIII. UNCOUTH was I of face and form, I pierced the rivets of the mail, Within my Second's dark recess My rude adorers knelt; 'Twas a fearful place; a pile of stones Stood for its stately door; Its music was of sighs and groans, The chieftain, ere his band he led, The boatman, ere his sail he spread, And ever the shriek rang loud within, And ever the red blood ran, And amid the sin and smoke and din My priests are rotting in their grave, My name and my memory pass away, XIX. My First to-night in young Haidee That, though my Second precious be, And let my Whole be never twined To shame those beaming charms, A richer one she cannot find (1826.) Than fond Affection's arms. XX. He who can make my First to roll He who can curb my Second's will XXI. ACROSS my First, with flash and roar, Watching my Second's parting smile My Whole comes back to other eyes With beauteous change of fruits and flowers; But black to her are those bright skies, And sad those joyous bowers; Alas! my First is dark and deep, And my Second cannot hear her weep! XXII. SIR EUSTACE goes to the far Crusade And my First is graven on his blade, And a flush is on his cheek and brow, Away, away!--the canvas drives XXIII. My First came forth in booted state, And smiled to feel my Second's weight, "And here's a jailer sweet," quoth he, "You cannot bribe or cozen; To keep one ward in custody, But daybreak saw a lady ride And "Blessing on the bonds," quoth he, "Which wrinkled age imposes, If woman must your prisoner be, |