Far to the South, the PERI lighted;

And sleek'd her plumage at the fountains

Is hidden from the sons of earth

Deep in those solitary woods,
Where oft the Genii of the Floods
Dance round the cradle of their Nile,
And hail the new-born Giant's smile.*
Thence over EGYPT's palmy groves,

Her grots, and sepuchres of Kings,t
The exil'd Spirit sighing roves;
And now hangs listening to the doves

In warm ROSETTA's vale ‡ now loves

To watch the moonlight on the wings
Of the white pelicans that break

The azure calm of MŒRIS' Lake. §

'Twas a fair scene a Land more bright

Who could have thought, that saw this night

Those valleys and their fruits of gold
Basking in Heav'n's serenest light; ·

"Sometimes called," says Jackson, "Jibbel Kumrie, or the white or lunar coloured mountains; so a white horse is called by the Arabians a moon coloured horse."

*"The Nile, which the Abyssinians know by the names of Abey and Alawy, or the Giant."-Asiat. Research. vol. i. p. 387.

† See Perry's View of the Levant for an account of the sepulchres in Upper Thebes, and the numberless grots, covered all over with hieroglyphics, in the mountains of Upper Egypt.

"The orchards of Rosetta are filled with turtle-doves." § Savary mentions the pelicans upon Lake Moris.

SONNINI.

Those groups of lovely date-trees bending
Languidly their leaf-crown'd heads,
Like youthful maids, when sleep descending
Warns them to their silken beds;
Those virgin lilies, all the night

*

Bathing their beauties in the lake,
That they may rise more fresh and bright,
When their beloved Sun's awake;-
Those ruin'd shrines and towers that seem
The relics of a splendid dream;

Amid whose fairy loneliness

Nought but the lapwing's cry is heard,
Nought seen but (when the shadows, flitting
Fast from the moon, unsheath its gleam,)
Some purple-wing'd Sultanat sitting
Upon a column, motionless

And glittering like an Idol bird!

Who could have thought, that there, ev'n there,

Amid those scenes so still and fair,

The Demon of the Plague hath cast

From his hot wing a deadlier blast,

More mortal far than ever came

From the red Desert's sands of flame !
So quick, that every living thing

Of human shape, touch'd by his wing,

* "The superb date-tree, whose head languidly reclines, like that of a handsome woman overcome with sleep."-DAFARD EL HADAD.

"That beautiful bird, with plumage of the finest shining blue, with purple beak and legs, the natural and living ornament of the temples and palaces of the Greeks and Romans, which, from the stateliness of its port, as well as the brilliancy of its colours, has obtained the title of Sultana." -SONNINI.

Like plants, where the Simoon hath past,
At once falls black and withering!

The sun went down on many a brow,

Which, full of bloom and freshness then,
Is rankling in the pest-house now,

The

very

And ne'er will feel that sun again.
And, oh! to see the' unburied heaps
On which the lonely moonlight sleeps -
vultures turn away,
And sicken at so foul a prey!
Only the fierce hyæna stalks *
Throughout the city's desolate walks +
At midnight, and his carnage plies:-
Woe to the half-dead wretch, who meets
The glaring of those large blue eyes
Amid the darkness of the streets!

"Poor race of men!" said the pitying Spirit,

Dearly ye pay for your primal Fall

"Some flow'rets of Eden

ye

still inherit,

"But the trail of the Serpent is over them all!"

* Jackson, speaking of the plague that occurred in West Barbary, when he was there, says, "The birds of the air fled away from the abodes of men. The byænas, on the contrary, visited the cemeteries," &c.

"Gondar was full of hyænas from the time it turned dark, till the dawn of day, seeking the different pieces of slaughtered carcasses, which this cruel and unclean people expose in the streets without burial, and who firmly believe that these animals are Falashta from the neighbouring mountains, transformed by magic, and come down to eat human flesh in the dark in safety."— BRCCE + Bruce.

She wept

the air grew pure and clear Around her, as the bright drops ran; For there's a magic in each tear,

Such kindly Spirits weep for man! Just then beneath some orange trees, Whose fruit and blossoms in the breeze Were wantoning together, free, Like age at play with infancyBeneath that fresh and springing bower, Close by the Lake, she heard the moan Of one who, at this silent hour,

Had hither stol'n to die alone.

One who in life where'er he mov'd,
Drew after him the hearts of many;

Yet now, as though he ne'er were lov'd,
Dies here unseen, unwept by any!

None to watch near him

none to slake

The fire that in his bosom lies,

With ev'n a sprinkle from that lake,

Which shines so cool before his eyes. No voice, well known through many a day, To speak the last, the parting word, Which, when all other sounds decay,

That she, whom he for years had known,

And lov'd, and might have call'd his own,
Was safe from this foul midnight's breath,-
Safe in her father's princely halls,

Where the cool airs from fountain falls,

Freshly perfum'd by many a brand

Of the sweet wood from INDIA's land,
Were pure as she whose brow they fann'd.

But see

who yonder comes by stealth,*

This melancholy bower to seek,

Like a young envoy, sent by Health,
With rosy gifts upon her cheek?
"Tis shefar off, through moonlight dim
He knew his own betrothed bride,
She, who would rather die with him,

Than live to gain the world beside!
Her arms are round her lover now,

His livid cheek to hers she presses,
And dips, to bind his burning brow,

In the cool lake her loosen'd tresses.

Ah! once, how little did he think

An hour would come, when he should shrink
With horror from that dear embrace,

Those gentle arms, that were to him

Holy as is the cradling place

Of Eden's infant cherubim!

* This circumstance has been often introduced into poetry;-by Vincentius Fabricius, by Darwin, and lately, with very powerful effect, by Mr. Wilson.