in vivid fancy and depth of feeling, that of Lord Byron, in his elegant
poem of the _Corsair_. The following passage describing the grief of
Medora on the departure of Conrad, the pirate, is sketched with the
pencil of a poet who was transcendently gifted with a knowledge of the
inmost recesses of the human heart:--

"And is he gone,"--on sudden solitude
How oft that fearful question will intrude?
"'Twas but an instant past--and here he stood!
And now"--without the portal's porch she rush'd,
And then at length her tears in freedom gush'd;
Big, bright, and fast, unknown to her they fell.
But still her lips refus'd to send--"Farewell!"
"He's gone!"--against her heart that hand is driven,
Convuls'd and quick--then gently rais'd to heav'n;
She look'd and saw the heaving of the main:
The white sail set--she dared not look again;
But turn'd with sickening soul within the gate--
"It is no dream--and I am desolate!"

CANTO I.

The description of Conrad's return from his piratical cruise, the agony
of his mind when he finds that his lovely Medora had fallen a sacrifice
to her affectionate regard for him, and his sudden departure in a boat,
through despair, is equally grand and powerful, and exhibits a fine
specimen of the influence of female constancy even on the mind of a man
like Conrad, who, from the nature of his pursuits, was inured to the
infliction of wrongs on his fellow-creatures.