Don Juan 06-106 ~ 110
  
 
Don Juan 06-106
Canto the Sixth
 
     CVI
 
Although she was not of the fainting sort,
     Baba thought she would faint, but there he err'd --
It was but a convulsion, which though short
     Can never be described; we all have heard,
And some of us have felt thus "all amort,"
     When things beyond the common have occurr'd; --
Gulbeyaz proved in that brief agony
What she could ne'er express -- then how should I?
  
 
Don Juan 06-107
Canto the Sixth
 
     CVII
 
She stood a moment as a Pythones
     Stands on her tripod, agonised, and full
Of inspiration gather'd from distress,
     When all the heart-strings like wild horses pull
The heart asunder; -- then, as more or lees
     Their speed abated or their strength grew dull,
She sunk down on her seat by slow degrees,
And bow'd her throbbing head o'er trembling knees.
  
 
Don Juan 06-108
Canto the Sixth
 
     CVIII
 
Her face declined and was unseen; her hair
     Fell in long tresses like the weeping willow,
Sweeping the marble underneath her chair,
     Or rather sofa (for it was all pillow,
A low soft ottoman), and black despair
     Stirr'd up and down her bosom like a billow,
Which rushes to some shore whose shingles check
Its farther course, but must receive its wreck.
  
 
Don Juan 06-109
Canto the Sixth
 
     CIX
 
Her head hung down, and her long hair in stooping
     Conceal'd her features better than a veil;
And one hand o'er the ottoman lay drooping,
     White, waxen, and as alabaster pale:
Would that I were a painter! to be grouping
     All that a poet drags into detail
Oh that my words were colours! but their tints
May serve perhaps as outlines or slight hints.
  
 
Don Juan 06-110
Canto the Sixth
 
     CX
 
Baba, who knew by experience when to talk
     And when to hold his tongue, now held it till
This passion might blow o'er, nor dared to balk
     Gulbeyaz' taciturn or speaking will.
At length she rose up, and began to walk
     Slowly along the room, but silent still,
And her brow clear'd, but not her troubled eye;
The wind was down, but still the sea ran high.
         
George Gordon Byron, Lord Byron (1788-1824) 
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