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52
THE CORSAIR.

XIII.

She gazed in wonder, "can he calmly sleep,
"While other eyes his fall or ravage weep?
"And mine in restlessness are wandering here—
"What sudden spell hath made this man so dear?
"True—'tis to him my life, and more, I owe,1030
"And me and mine he spared from worse than woe:
"'Tis late to think—but soft—his slumber breaks—
"How heavily he sighs!—he starts—awakes!"


He raised his head—and dazzled with the light,
His eye seemed dubious if it saw aright:
He moved his hand—the grating of his chain
Too harshly told him that he lived again.
"What is that form? if not a shape of air,
"Methinks, my jailor's face shows wondrous fair!"


"Pirate! thou know'st me not—but I am one,1040
"Grateful for deeds thou hast too rarely done;
"Look on me—and remember her, thy hand

"Snatched from the flames, and thy more fearful band.