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o sound from Selim's lip was heard,At least that met old Giaffir's ear,But every frown and every wordPierced keener than a Christian's sword."Son of a slave!--reproached with fear!Those gibes had cost another dear. 110Son of a slave!--and _who_ my Sire?"Thus held his thoughts their dark career;And glances ev'n of more than ire[ff]Flash forth, then faintly disappear.Old Giaffir gazed upon his sonAnd started; for within his eyeHe read how much his wrath had done;He saw rebellion there begun:"Come hither, boy--what, no reply?I mark thee--and I know thee too; 120But there be deeds thou dar'st not do:But if thy beard had manlier length,And if thy hand had skill and strength,I'd joy to see thee break a lance,Albeit against my own perchance."As sneeringly these accents fell,On Selim's eye he fiercely gazed:That eye returned him glance for glance,And proudly to his Sire's was raised[fg],Till Giaffir's quailed and shrunk askance-- 130And why--he felt, but durst not tell."Much I misdoubt this wayward boyWill one day work me more annoy:I never loved him from his birth,And--but his arm is little worth,And scarcely in the chase could copeWith timid fawn or antelope,Far less would venture into strifeWhere man contends for fame and life--I would not trust that look or tone: 140No--nor the blood so near my own.[fh]That blood--he hath not heard--no more--I'll watch him closer than before.He is an Arab[131] to my sight,Or Christian crouching in the fight--[fi]But hark!--I hear Zuleika's voice;Like Houris' hymn it meets mine ear:She is the offspring of my choice;Oh! more than ev'n her mother dear,With all to hope, and nought to fear-- 150My Peri! ever welcome here![fj]Sweet, as the desert fountain's waveTo lips just cooled in time to save--Such to my longing sight art thou;Nor can they waft to Mecca's shrineMore thanks for life, than I for thine,Who blest thy birth and bless thee now."[fk]
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