Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 1.djvu/138

98 Candid and liberal, with a heart of steel

In Danger's path, though not untaught to feel.

Still, I remember, in the factious strife,

The rustic's musket aim'd against my life:

High pois'd in air the massy weapon hung,

A cry of horror burst from every tongue:

Whilst I, in combat with another foe,

Fought on, unconscious of th' impending blow;

Your arm, brave Boy, arrested his career—

Forward you sprung, insensible to fear;

Disarm'd, and baffled by your conquering hand,

The grovelling Savage roll'd upon the sand:

An act like this, can simple thanks repay?

Or all the labours of a grateful lay?

Oh no! whene'er my breast forgets the deed,

That instant,, it deserves to bleed.

! on me thy claims are justly great:

Thy milder virtues could my Muse relate,