Amid the whirl of wreck and storm, As, on some black and troublous night, Burns through the storm with looks of flame But no A fantasy -'twas but the minute's dream and ere the scream Had half-way pass'd her pallid lips, How calm, how beautiful comes on 7 "The brilliant Canopus, unseen in European climates." Brown. 8 V. Wilford's learned Essays on the Sacred Isles in the West. Fresh as if Day again were born, When the light blossoms, rudely torn 9 When, 'stead of one unchanging breeze, As if the loveliest plants and trees Had vassal breezes of their own To watch and wait on them alone, And waft no other breath than theirs! 9 A precious stone of the Indies, called by the ancients Ceraunium, because it was supposed to be found in places where thunder had fallen. Tertullian says it has a glittering appearance, as if there had been fire in it; and the author of the Dissertation in Harris's Voyages supposes it to be the opal. When the blue waters rise and fall, Such was the golden hour, that broke As slow it mounted o'er the tide. But where is she? her eyes are dark, Are wilder'd still is this the bark, The same, that from HARMOZIA's bay strange and new Is all that meets her wondering view, Upon a galliot's deck she lies, Beneath no rich pavilion's shade, No plumes to fan her sleeping eyes, Nor jasmine on her pillow laid. But the rude litter, roughly spread Lost in unconscious reverie; And some, who seem'd but ill to brook As loose it flagg'd around the mast. Blest ALLA! who shall save her now There's not in all that warrior-band One Arab sword, one turban'd brow the leathern belt' that wraps "The Guebres are known by a dark yellow colour, which the 2 The Tartar fleece upon their Yes yes caps 3 her fears are all too true, And Heav'n hath, in this dreadful hour, Her very heart's blood chills within; He, whom her soul was hourly taught To loathe, as some foul fiend of sin, Some minister, whom Hell had sent To spread its blast, where'er he went, And fling, as o'er our earth he trod, His shadow betwixt man and God! And she is now his captive, thrown In his fierce hands, alive, alone; All infidels - all enemies! What was the daring hope that then A look so searching, so intent, That ev'n the sternest warrior bow'd 3 "The Kolah, or cap, worn by the Persians, is made of the skin of the sheep of Tartary."- Waring. |