There the large olive rains its amber store In marble fonts; there grain, and flower, and fruit, Gush from the earth until the land runs o'er;[243] But there, too, many a poison-tree has root, And Midnight listens to the lion's roar, And long, long deserts scorch the camel's foot, Or heaving whelm the helpless caravan; And as the soil is, so the heart of man. LVI. Afric is all the Sun's, and as her earth Her human clay is kindled; full of power For good or evil, burning from its birth, The Moorish blood partakes the planet's hour, And like the soil beneath it will bring forth: Beauty and love were Haidée's mother's dower; But her large dark eye showed deep Passion's force, Though sleeping like a lion near a source.[dv] LVII. Her daughter, tempered with a milder ray, Like summer clouds all silvery, smooth, and fair, Till slowly charged with thunder they display Terror to earth, and tempest to the air, Had held till now her soft and milky way; But overwrought with Passion and Despair, The fire burst forth from her Numidian veins, Even as the Simoom[244] sweeps the blasted plains. LVIII. The last sight which she saw was Juan's gore, And he himself o'ermastered and cut down; His blood was running on the very floor Where late he trod, her beautiful, her own; Thus much she viewed an instant and no more,-- Her struggles ceased with one convulsive groan; On her Sire's arm, which until now scarce held Her writhing, fell she like a cedar felled. LIX. A vein had burst, and her sweet lips' pure dyes[dw] Were dabbled with the deep blood which ran o'er;[245] And her head drooped, as when the lily lies O'ercharged with rain: her summoned handmaids bore Their lady to her couch with gushing eyes; Of herbs and cordials they produced their store, But she defied all means they could employ, Like one Life could not hold, nor Death destroy. LX. Days lay she in that state unchanged, though chill-- With nothing livid, still her lips were red; She had no pulse, but Death seemed absent still; No hideous sign proclaimed her surely dead; Corruption came not in each mind to kill All hope; to look upon her sweet face bred New thoughts of Life, for it seemed full of soul-- She had so much, Earth could not claim the whole. LXI. The ruling passion, such as marble shows When exquisitely chiselled, still lay there, But fixed as marble's unchanged aspect throws O'er the fair Venus, but for ever fair;[246] O'er the Laocoon's all eternal throes, And ever-dying Gladiator's air, Their energy like life forms all their fame, Yet looks not life, for they are still the same.--[dx]