That tears had little pow’r to speak
When trembling, on a sable cheek!
XIV.
With keen reproach, and menace rude,
The Lascar Boy away was sent;
And now again he seem’d subdu’d,
And his soul sicken’d, as he went.
Now, on the river’s bank he stood;
Now, drank the cool refreshing flood;
Again his fainting heart beat high;