But morn is blushing in the sky;

Again the PERI soars above,

Bearing to Heaven that precious sigh

Of pure self-sacrificing love.

High throbb'd her heart, with hope elate,

The' Elysian palm she soon shall win,

For the bright Spirit at the gate
Smil'd as she gave that offering in ;
And she already hears the trees

Of Eden, with their crystal bells
Ringing in that ambrosial breeze

That from the throne of ALLA swells ; And she can see the starry bowls

That lie around that lucid lake,

Upon whose banks admitted Souls

Their first sweet draught of glory take ! 184

But, ah! even PERIS' hopes are vain—
Again the Fates forbade, again

The' immortal barrier clos'd-" Not yet,"
The Angel said as, with regret,

He shut from her that glimpse of glory-
"True was the maiden, and her story,
"Written in light o'er ALLA's head,
"By seraph eyes shall long be read.

"But, PERI, see-the crystal bar
"Of Eden moves not-holier far

"Than even this sigh the boon must be

That opes the Gates of Heaven for thee."

185

Now, upon SYRIA's land of roses
Softly the light of Eve reposes,
And, like a glory, the broad sun
Hangs over sainted LEBANON ;
Whose head in wintry grandeur towers,
And whitens with eternal sleet,
While summer, in a vale of flowers,
Is sleeping rosy at his feet.

To one, who look'd from upper air
O'er all the' enchanted regions there,
How beauteous must have been the glow,
The life, the sparkling from below!
Fair gardens, shining streams, with ranks
Of golden melons on their banks,
More golden where the sunlight falls;
Gay lizards, glittering on the walls 186
Of ruin'd shrines, busy and bright
As they were all alive with light;
And, yet more splendid, numerous flocks
Of pigeons, settling on the rocks,
With their rich restless wings, that gleam
Variously in the crimson beam

Of the warm West,—as if inlaid
With brilliants from the mine, or made
Of tearless rainbows, such as span
The' unclouded skies of PERISTAN.
And then the mingling sounds that come
Of shepherd's ancient reed,187 with hum
Of the wild bees of PALESTINE, 188

Banqueting through the flow'ry vales; And, JORDAN, those sweet banks of thine, And woods, so full of nightingales. 189

But nought can charm the luckless PERI;
Her soul is sad-her wings are weary—
Joyless she sees the Sun look down
On that great Temple, once his own,190
Whose lonely columns stand sublime,

Flinging their shadows from on high,

Like dials, which the wizard, Time,
Had rais'd to count his ages by!

Yet haply there may lie conceal'd
Beneath those Chambers of the Sun,
Some amulet of gems anneal'd
In upper fires, some tablet seal'd
With the great name of SOLOMON,
Which, spell'd by her illumin'd eyes,
May teach her where, beneath the moon,
In earth or ocean, lies the boon,
The charm, that can restore so soon
An erring Spirit to the skies.

Cheer'd by this hope she bends her thither ;-
Still laughs the radiant eye of Heaven,
Nor have the golden bowers of Even
In the rich West begun to wither ;-
When, o'er the vale of BALBEC winging
Slowly, she sees a child at play,
Among the rosy wild flowers singing,
As rosy and as wild as they ;
Chasing, with eager hands and eyes,
The beautiful blue damsel flies, 191
That flutter'd round the jasmine stems,
Like winged flowers or flying gems :-
And, near the boy, who tir'd with play
Now nestling 'mid the roses lay,
She saw a wearied man dismount

From his hot steed, and on the brink
Of a small imaret's rustic fount 192

Impatient fling him down to drink.

Then swift his haggard brow he turn'd To the fair child, who fearless sat, Though never yet hath day-beam burn'd Upon a brow more fierce than that,— Sullenly fierce a mixture dire,

Like thunder-clouds, of gloom and fire;