Alp is but known by the white arm bare; 785 Look through the thick of the fight, 'tis there! There is not a standard on that shore So well advanced the ranks before; There is not a banner in Moslem war Will lure the Delhis half so far ; It glances like a falling star! 790 The bravest be, or late have been; There the craven cries for quarter Vainly to the vengeful Tartar; 795 Or the hero, silent lying, Scorns to yield a groan in dying; "For thine own, thy daughter's sake." 805 Never, renegado, never! 66 Though the life of thy gift would last for ever.” Francesca!-Oh my promised bride! "Must she too perish by thy pride?" "She is safe."-" Where? where?". -"In heaven; "Oh God! when died she?"-" Yesternight "Nor weep I for her spirit's flight: "None of my pure race shall be "Slaves to Mahomet and thee "Come on!"-That challenge is in vain 820 Alp's already with the slain! While Minotti's words were wreaking More revenge in bitter speaking Blazed, as he bent no more to rise, And then eternal darkness sunk Through all the palpitating trunk ; Where his limbs were slightly shivering: 835 They turned him on his back; his breast And brow were stained with gore and dust, And through his lips the life-blood oozed, From its deep veins lately loosed; But in his pulse there was no throb, Nor on his lips one dying sob; Sigh, nor word, nor struggling breath Heralded his way to death: Ere his very thought could pray, Unanealed he passed away, 840 845 |