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Far off his ship was anchor'd ; on that strand 

 Not India's wealth could make a layman land ! 

 Therefore with none but monks he mann'd his barge, 

 Which bore of beads and bells a sacred charge ; 

 Whole heaps of relics lent by Cintra's nuns, 

 And holy water (blest at Rome) by tons ! 



His toils were all o'erpaid ! he saw again 

 His fav'rite child, and kindly soothed her pain ; 

 And while her tale he heard, oft dropp'd a tear, 

 And sign'd his beard-swept breast in awe and fear : 

 Then bade her speed the friendly bark to gain, 

 And fly the infernal monarch's green domain ; 

 Nor yield her tyrant time to cast a spell, 

 And rouse to cross her flight the powers of hell. 



Then first from Irza's cheek the glow of red, 

 By hope of rescue raised, grew faint, and fled ; 

 Trembling she nam'd her cherub-boy, confess'd 

 A mother's fondness fill'd his mother's breast; 

 Described how fair he look'd, how sweet he smiled, 

 And fear'd her flight might quite destroy her child. 

 Then rose the abbot's ire — " Oh, guilty care ! " 

 Frowning, he cried, and shook his hoary hair: 

 " Fair is the imp ? and shall he therefore breathe 

 To win new subjects for the realms beneath ? 

 The fiends most dangerous are those spirits bright, 

 Who toil for hell, and show like sons of light ; 

 And still when Satan spreads his subtlest snares, 

 The baits are azure eyes, the lines are golden hairs. 

 Name thou the brat no more ! To Cintra's walls 

 Fly, where thy footsteps mild repentance calls. 

 I'll hear no plaint ! kneel not ! I'm deaf to prayer ! 

 Swift, brethren, to the barge this maniac bear ; 

 Speed ! speed ! — no tears ! — no struggling! — no delay! 

 Row, brethren, row, and waft us swift away ! " 



