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PART II.

BRAVE Malik wheel'd his followers round, The fearless Ali seized his steed

Again they sought the camp; The list'ning soldiers heard afar Their horses' hast'ning tramp.

With instant speed his sov'reign's tent
The noble Malik sought;

He told the strange event, the deed
By demon vengeance wrought.

The sorrowing Prophet heard the tale-
He wept the warrior's fate-
Enwrapt a while in silent prayer,
Amid his chiefs he sate.

Unheard by all, an answering voice
Seem'd he at length to hear;
Attention deep a while-was seen
To hold his listening ear.

Obeisance, grateful, then he paid; The voice that spoke was gone; Around the Prophet's gladden'd look Triumphant smile was thrown.

He spoke and first on Malik sad

He bent approving eye"The power that lurks in yonder cave Might well thy strength defy.

"A messenger, unseen by men, To me a word has brought: Alone by Ali, lion-hand,

May this emprize be wrought.

"A Rebel Peri holds the den,

With all his roaming band; His demon sway is widely spread O'er many a subject land.

"Go, Ali, seize thy sword of proof;

Go seize thy matchless steed; By thee must this emprize be wrought, If mortal hand may speed.

"If earthlike foes shall meet thee there,
Of human force like thine;
Thine own good hand must work its way;
Expect not aid of mine.

"But if their demon arts are tried,
Unearthly force to bring,
Thy sword from me shall power receive,
To wield a living sting.

"Go seek their den: thy sword of might
May fear no fiendish spell.
Go bid them own our higher power,-
Or bind in dungeon fell."

He seized his sword of might;
The soldiers gazed; the fleet Duldul
Was soon beyond their sight.

The faithful bands more near approach'd,
The dread event to wait;

Amid their ranks the Prophet stood

Intent on Ali's fate.

But Ali now has reach'd the brink;
Duldul behind him stays;
Above the rock the hero stands
Amid its gulf to gaze.

Within the pit that yawn'd obscure,
His fearless footstep sprung;
From stone to stone his groping hand
In sightless guidance clung.

But narrower soon the deepening gulf
To wildest darkness grew;
And far on high the closing light
Seem'd but a star to view.

The crumbling stones, unfaithful grown,
Refused his foot to stay;

The crags his eager grasp had seiz'd,
Seem'd each to rend away.

He raised his eyes aloft to gaze;
The light was dimm'd on high:
He turn'd beneath a watery gulf
Was stagnant seen to lie.

Amid the dangers thickening round,
Seem'd hostile beings near;
For threatening voices loud were heard,
Through all the cavern drear.

"Now, God me speed !" the hero cried, "This den is guarded well :

I would its sprites might stand to view Nor thus in darkness yell.

"But yet their waters I shall taste,

Did Death sit grimly there:
The sculking fiends, within their haunt,
My trusty sword shall dare."

He said and down the fearful deep,
(For yet aloft he hung)
Amid the plashing waves beneath,
The fearless hero sprung.

And lo! a thousand gathering tongues
Arose in wild alarm.

They cried, "Our fated foe is come:Arm, mighty Genii, arm !”

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LORD BYRON AND MR LANDOR.

To the Editor of Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine:

SIR,-In a poem, lately published by Lord Byron, named Christian, or the Island, occurs a note severely reflecting on Mr Landor.

"If the reader will apply to his ear the sea-shell on his chimney-piece, he will be aware of what is alluded to. If the text should appear obscure, he will find in "Geber" the same idea better expressed in two lines. The poem I never read, but have heard the lines quoted by a more recondite reader who seems to be of a dif ferent opinion from the Editor of the Quarterly Review, who qualified it, in his answer to the Critical Reviewer of his Juvenal, as trash of the worst and most insarie description. It is to Mr Landor, the author of Geber, so qualified, and of some Latin poems, which vie with Martial or Catullus in obscenity, that the immaculate Mr Southey addresses his declamation against impurity."

To defend Mr Landor from the charge of indecency, brought by such a person as the author of Don Juan, and other works which dare not see the light, being more obscene than Don Juan, would be mere waste of words. I shall therefore only indicate the reason why Lord B. has attacked Mr Landor. It was not his verse, but his prose, which excited the hostility of the peer-though his lordship slurs that circumstance altogether. In Mr Landor's elegant Quæstiuncula, the following passage

occurs:

"Summi poetæ in omni poetarum sæculo viri fuerunt probi: in nostris id vidimus et videmus; neque alius est error a veritate longius quam magna ingenia magnis necessario corrumpi vitiis. Secundo plerique posthabent primum, hi malignitate, illi ignorantia, et quum aliquem inveniunt styli morumque vitiis notatum, nec inficetum tamen nec in libris edendis parcum, eum stipant, prædicant, occupant, amplectuntur. Si mores aliquantulum vellet corrigere, si stylum curare paululum, si fervido ingenio temperare, si moræ tantillum interponere, tum ingens nescio quid et vere epicum, quadraginta annos natus, procuderet. Ignorant vero febriculis non indicari vires, impatientiam ab imbecillitate non differre ; ignorant a levi homine et inconstante multa fortasse scribi posse plusquam mediocria, nihil compositum, ardu

um, æternum."

VOL. XIV.

66

The application is plain, and hence the anger of Lord B. Mr L. might have written worse than Petronius, without stirring the indignation of the great moralist of Don Juan; but the aliquis styli morumque vitiis notatus," the "levis homo et inconstans,” and the low appreciation of Lord Byron's admirers, were not to be forgiven. Libelled, of course, Mr Landor must be, and, of course, the first opportunity was taken for the purpose. The lines about the shell in Christian were obviously written to bring him in by the head and shoulders.

Will you permit me to quote the following passage, as a specimen of sound Latinity, and as a just castigation of the Reviewers of Mr Wordsworth-his Lordship's quondam butts, though now his most honourable friends and allies?

"Habebant antiqui Ruvidos, Cæsios, Aquinos, Suffenos, ut habemus in Britannia nostra Brogamos, Jefrisios, et centum alios librariorum vernas, cum venenis et fuligine prostantes, bonis omnibus et scriptoribus et viris ipsa rerum natura infensos. At quil ego te vocibus compellem, vir, civis, philosophe, poeta, præstantissime, qui sæculum nostrum ut nullo priore minus gloriosum sit effeceris; quem nec domicilium longinqum, nec vita sanctissima, neque optimorum voluntas, charitas, propensio, neque hominum fere universorum reverentia, inviolatum conservavit ; cujus sepulchrum, si mortuus esses anteaquam nascerentur, ut voti rei inviserent, et laudi sibi magnæ ducerent vel aspici vel credi ibidem ingemiscere. In eorum ingeniis observandum est quod Narniensi agro evenisse meminit Cicero, siccitate lutum fieri. Floces et fraces, ut veteres dicerent, literarum, discant illud utinam quod exemplo docent, nihil afferre opis vesanientem animum ingenii malaciæ. Commode se haberent res mortalium si unum quisque corrigeret: de facto universi consentiunt, de homine plerique dissident."

Leaving this to the consideration of the Brogami, Jefrisii, and the other "librariorum vernæ, I have the ho

nour to be,

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Sir,

Your most obedient humble servant,
IDOLOCLASTES.

London, July 4, 1823.

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