Out of mere mortal ken-above the Cedars-
But we shall see ye go, hear ye return,
Repeopling the old solitudes,—thro' thee,
My Khalil! Thou art full of me—
e-I fill
Thee full-my hands thus fill thee! Yester' eve,
-Nay, but this morn-I deemed thee ignorant
Of all to do, requiring words of mine

To teach it-now, thou hast all gifts in one,
With truth and purity go other gifts!

All gifts come clustering to that-go, lead
My People home whate'er betide!

[Turning to the Druses.]

Ye take

This Khalil for my delegate? To him
Bow as to me? He leads to Lebanon-

Ye follow?

Druses.

We follow! Now exalt thyself!

Dja. [raises Loys.] Then to thee, Loys! How I wronged thee, Loys!

-Yet, wronged, no less thou shalt have full revenge,
Fit for thy noble self, revenge-and thus:

Thou, loaded with these wrongs, the princely soul,
The first sword of Christ's sepulchre-thou shalt
Guard Khalil and my Druses home again!
Justice, no less-God's justice and no more,
For those I leave !—to seeking this, devote
Some few days out of thy Knight's brilliant life,
And, this obtained them, leave their Lebanon,
My Druses' blessing in thine ears-(they shall
Bless thee with blessing sure to have its way)

-One cedar-blossom in thy Ducal cap,

One thought of Anael in thy heart-perchance,
One thought of him who thus, to bid thee speed,
His last word to the living speaks! This done,
Resume thy course, and, first amid the first
In Europe, take my heart along with thee!
Go boldly, go serenely, go augustly-
What can withstand thee then?

[He bends over ANAEL.] And last to thee!
Ah, did I dream I was to have this day
Exalted thee? A vain dream-hast thou not
Won greater exaltation? What remains

But

press to thee, exalt myself to thee?

Thus I exalt myself, set free my soul !

[He stabs himself—as he falls, supported by KHALIL and LOYS, the VENETIANS enter: the ADMIRAL advances.

Admiral. God and St. Mark for Venice! Plant the Lion!

[At the clash of the planted standard, the Druses shout, and move tumultuously forward, Loys drawing his sword. Dja. [leading them a few steps between KHALIL and

LOYS.]

On to the Mountain. At the Mountain, Druses!

[Dies.

LURIA;

A Tragedy.

I DEDICATE

THIS LAST ATTEMPT FOR THE PRESENT AT DRAMATIC POETRY

To a Great Dramatic Poet;

WISHING WHAT I WRITE MAY BE READ BY HIS LIGHT:

-IF a PHRASE ORIGINALLY ADDRESSED, BY NOT THE LEAST WORTHY OF HIS CONTEMPORARIES,

TO SHAKESPEARE,

MAY BE APPLIED HERE, BY ONE WHOSE SOLE PRIVILEGE IS IN A GRATEFUL ADMIRATION,

TO WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR.