And weary as that bird of Thrace,
Whose pinion knows no resting-place.*
In vain the loveliest cheeks and eyes
This Eden of the earth supplies

Come crowding round-the cheeks are pale,
The eyes are dim:-though rich the spot
With every flow'r this earth has got,

What is it to the nightingale,
If there his darling rose is not ?t
In vain the Valley's smiling throng
Worship him, as he moves along;
He heeds them not-one smile of hers
Is worth a world of worshippers.
They but the Star's adorers are,
She is the Heav'n that lights the Star!
Hence is it, too, that NOURMAHAL,
Amid the luxuries of this hour,
Far from the joyous festival,

Sits in her own sequester'd bower;
With no one near, to soothe or aid,
But that inspir'd and wond'rous maid,
NAMOUNA, the Enchantress;-one,
O'er whom his race the golden sun
For unremember'd years has run,
Yet never saw her blooming brow
Younger or fairer than 'tis now.
Nay, rather, as the west wind's sigh
Freshens the flower it passes by,-
Time's wing but seem'd, in stealing o'er,
To leave her lovelier than before.
Yet on her smiles a sadness hung,
And when, as oft, she spoke or sung

"As these birds on the Bosphorus are never known to rest, they are called by the French les ames damnées."" -Dalloway.

+"You may place a hundred handfuls of fragrant herbs and flowers before the nightingale, yet he wishes not, in his constant heart, for more than the sweet breath of his beloved rose."-Jami.

Of other worlds, there came a light
From her dark eyes so strangely bright,
That all believ'd nor man nor earth
Were conscious of NAMOUNA's birth!

All spells and tailsmans she knew,
From the great Mantra,* which around
The Air's sublimer Spirits drew,

To the gold gemst of AFRIC, bound
Upon the wandering Arab's arm,
To keep him from the Siltim's harm.
And she had pledg'd her powerful art,-
Pledg'd it with all the zeal and heart
Of one who knew, though high her sphere,
What 'tis to lose a love so dear,

To find some spell that should recall
Her Selim's§ smile to NOURMAHAL!

'Twas midnight-through the lattice, wreath'd
With woodbine, many a perfume breath'd
From plants that wake when others sleep,
From timid jasmine buds, that keep
Their odour to themselves all day,
But, when the sun-light dies away,
Let the delicious secret out

To every breeze that roams about;-
When thus NAMOUNA:-""Tis the hour
"That scatters spells on herb and flower,
"And garlands might be gather'd now,
"That, twin'd around the sleeper's brow,

"He is said to have found the great Mantra, spell or talisman, through which he ruled over the elements and spirits of all denominations."-Wilford.

+"The gold jewels of Jinnie, which are called by the Arabs El Herrez, from the supposed charm they contain." -Jackson.

"A demon supposed to haunt woods, &c. in a human shape."-Richardson.

§ The name of Jehanguire before his ascension to the throne.

"Would make him dream of such delights,
"Such miracles and dazzling sights,
"As Genii of the Sun behold,

At evening, from their tents of gold
"Upon th' horizon-where they play
"Till twilight comes, and, ray by ray,
"Their sunny manɛicns melt away!
"Now, too, a chaplet might be wreath'd
"Of buds o'er which the moon has breath'd,
"Which worn by her, whose love has stray'd,
"Might bring some PERI from the skies,
"Some sprite, whose very soul is made
"Of flow'rets' breaths and lovers' sighs,
"And who might tell-

"For me, for me,"

Cried NOURMAHAL impatiently,

"Oh! twine that wreath for me to-night."
Then rapidly, with foot as light

As the young musk-roe's, out she flew,
To cull each shining leaf that grew
Beneath the moonlight's hallowing beams,
For this enchanted Wreath of Dreams.
Anemones and Seas of Gold,*

And new-blown lilies of the river,
And those sweet flow'rets, that unfold
Their buds on CAMADEVA's quiver;t-
The tubr-rose, with her silvery light,
That in the Gardens of MALAY
Is call'd the Mistress of the Night,t
So like a bride, scented and bright,

She comes out when the sun's away.

"Hemasagara, or the Sea of Gold, with flowers of the brightest gold colour."-Sir W. Jones.

"This tree (the Nagacesara) is one of the most delightful on earth, and the delicious odour of its blossoms justly gives them a place in the quiver of Camadeva or the God of Love."-Id.

"The Malayans style the tube-rose (Polianthes tube. rosa) Sandal Malam, or the Mistress of the Night."Pennant.

Amaranths, such as crown the maids
That wander through ZAMARA's shades;*
And the white moon-flower, as it shows,
On SERENDIB's high crags to those
Who near the isle at evening sail,
Scenting her clove-trees in the gale;-
In short, all flow'rets and all plants,
From the divine Amrita tree,t
That blesses heaven's inhabitants
With fruits of immortality,
Down to the tuft basil, that waves
Its fragrant blossom over graves,
And to the humble rosemary,
Whose sweets so thanklessly are shed
To scent the desert§ and the dead:-
All in that garden bloom, and all
Are gather'd by young NOURMAHAL,
Who heaps her baskets with the flowers
And leaves, till they can hold no more;
Then to NAMOUNA flies, and showers
Upon her lap the shining store.

With what delight th' Enchantress views
So many buds, bath'd with the dews
And beams of that bless'd hour!-her glance
Spoke something, past all mortal pleasures.

*The people of the Batta country in Sumatra (of which Zamara is one of the ancient names) "when not engaged in war, lead an idle, inactive life, passing the day in playing on a kind of flute, crowned with garlands of flowers, among which the globe-amaranthus, a native of the country, mostly prevails."-Marsden.

The largest and richest sort (of the Jambu or roseapple) is called Amrita or immortal, and the mythologists of Tibet apply the same word to a celestial tree, bearing ambrosial fruit."-Sir W. Jones.

Sweet basil, Rayhan in Persia, and generally found in church-yards.

"In the Great Desert are found many stalks oflaven. der and rosemary."-Asiat. Res.

As, in a kind of holy trance,

She hung above those fragrant treasures,
Bending to drink their balmy airs,
As if she mix'd her soul with theirs.
And 'twas, indeed, the perfume shed
From flow'rs and scented flame, that fed
Her charmed life-for none had e'er
Beheld her taste of mortal fare,
Nor ever in aught earthly dip,
But the morn's dew, her roseate lip.
Fill'd with the cool, inspiring smell,
Th' Enchantress now begins her spell,
Thus singing as she winds and weaves
In mystic form the glittering leaves:-

I know where the winged visions dwell
That around the night-bed play;
I know each herb and flow'ret's bell,
Where they hide their wings by day.
Then hasten we, maid,

To twine our braid,

To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

The image of love, that nightly flies
To visit the bashful maid,

Steals from the jasmine flower, that sighs
Its soul, like her, in the shade.

The hope, in dreams, of a happier hour,
That alights on misery's brow,
Springs out of the silvery almond-flower,
That blooms on a leafless bough.*
Then hasten we, maid,

To twine our braid,

To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

"The almond-tree, with white flowers, blossoms on the

bare branches."-Hasselquist.