Shoots o'er her redd'ning cheek. Her languid eyes

She raises, sighing from her inmost breast.

But as again her husband's bleeding corse
Full in her sight appears, again she faints :
Again the virgin train their cares renew.
At length the struggling passion finds a vent,
Complaints break forth, and tears begin to flow.
"Was it for this," she cried, "I rous'd to war
Cornubia's chiefs? for this, in rugged camps
Forgot the softness of my gentle sex,

Nor fled the horrid clash of hostile arms?

To mourn for ever o'er my widow'd bed;

To see the object of my fondest love,

Life of my life, and end of all my wishes,

Stretch'd pale before me, a poor mangled corse,

With wounds disfigur'd, and besmear'd with blood?

Is that the face, ou which so oft I gaz'd

With fond delight, and rapture ever new!

Is that the neck, round which my clasping arms Oft twin'd their am'rous folds, in happier hours?

(Ah happy hours! for I believ'd he lov'd.")

Then, as officious memory recall'd

Each word, each look, each dear and ravish'd joy,

Each word, each look, each joy remember'd, gives
New stings to grief, new horrors to despair.

And now her mighty wrongs, her slighted charms,
And source of all her woe, the Scythian dame,
Rush on her mind: now fiercer tumults heave
Her lab'ring breast, and rage succeeds to grief
As in the Lybian forest's horrid shade,

Where the rank soil with deadly poisons teems,

And echo still repeats the dreadful notes
Of the fierce savage prowling for his prey,
The lioness at eve her craggy den

Returning seeks, but seeks in vain her young,

The dusky hunters' prize: her panting sides
With fury heave, and mingled grief and rage
Swell at her heart: her fiery eye-balls glare:

And, every sinew with new vigour brac'd

By mighty anguish, forth she bounds, to quench

Her kindled rage in blood. Thus Guendolen

To vengeance all her savage soul resigns;

To keenest torture dooms her hated foe;

Dwells on the welcome thought with cruel joy ; Already sees her tears, and hears her groans,

And marks with eager eye the pangs of death.

THE

REVENGE

OF

GUENDOLEN.

BOOK V.