20

THE SIEGE OE CORINTH.

And turned to earth without repining,

Nor wished for wings to lice away,

And mix with their eternal ray?

The waves on cither shore lay thereCalm, clear, and azure as the air;

And scarce their from the pebbles shook,But murmured meekly as the brook.

The winds were pillowed on tile waves;The banners drooped along their staves,!And, as they fell around them furling,Above them shone the crescent curling;

And that deep silence was unbroke,

Save where the watch his signal spoke,

Save where the steed neighed oft and shrill,And echo answered from the hill,

And the wide hum of that wild hostRustled like leaves from coast to coast,

As rose the Muezzin ’s voice in airIn midnight call to wonted prayer;

It rose, that chanted mournful strain,

Like some lone spirit’s o’er the plain:

’Twas musical, but sadly sweet;

Such as when winds and harp-strings meet,And take a long unmeasured tone,

To mortal minstrelsy unknown.

It seemed to those within the wall