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toinking, I have very little doubt that I shall be vastly Irem. Every precious flower was there to be found, pleased with him.”

that poetry, or love, or religion has ever consecrated, Some days elapsed, after this harangue of the Great from the dark hyacinth, to which Hafez compares Chamberlain, before Lalla Rookh could venture to his mistress's hair, to the Camalata, by whose rosy ask for another story. The youth was still a wel. blossoms the heaven of Inc is scented. As they come guest in the pavilion; to one heart, perhaps too sat in the cool fragrance of this delicious spot, and dangerously welcome--but all mention of poetry was, LALLA Rookh remarked that she could fancy it the as if by common consent, avoided. Though none of abode of that flower-loving Nymph whom they worthe party had much respect for FADLADEEN, yet his ship in the temples of Kathay, or one of those Peris, censures, thus magisterially delivered, evidently made those beautiful creatures of the air, who live upon peran impression on them all. The Poet himself, to fumes, and to whom a place like this might make some whom criticism was quite a new operation, (being amends for the Paradise they have lost,—the young wholly unknown in that Paradise of the Indies, Cash- Poet, in whose eyes she appeared, while she spoke, mere,) felt the shock as it is generally felt at first, till to be one of the bright spiritual creatures she was use has made it more tolerable to the patient;—the describing, said, hesitatingly, that he remembered a ladies began to suspect that they ought not to be Story of a Peri, which, if the Princess had no objecpleased, and seemed to conclude that there must have tion, he would venture to relate. “It is,” said he, been much good sense in what FADLADEEN said, with an appealing look to FADLADEEN, “in a lighter from its having set them all so soundly to sleep;- and humbler strain than the other;" then, striking a while the self-complacent Chamberlain was left to few careless but melancholy chords on his kitar, he triumph in the idea of having, for the hundred and thus began :fiftieth time in his life, extinguished a Poet. LALLA Rooku alone—and Love knew why-persisted in PARADISE AND THE PERI. being delighted with all she had heard, and in resolv. ing to hear more as speedily as possible. Her manner, however, of first returning to the subject was One morn a Peri at the gate unlucky. It was while they rested during the heat Of Eden stood, disconsolate ; of noon near a fountain, on which some hand had And as she listen'd to the Springs rudely traced those well-known words from the Of Life within, like music flowing, Garden of Sadi, -" Many, like me, have viewed this And caught the light upon her wings fountain, but they are gone, and their eyes are closed Through the half-open'd portal glowing, for ever !”—that she took occasion, from the melan- She wept to think her recreant race choly beauty of this passage, to dwell upon the charms Should e'er have lost that glorious place! of poetry in general. “It is true," she said, “ few

“ How happy," exclaim'd this child of air, poets can imitate that sublime bird, which flies al

“ Are the holy Spirits who wander there, ways in the air, and never touches the earth ;'--it is

'Mid Powers that never shall fade or fall: only once in many ages a Genius appears, whose Though mine are the gardens of earth and sea, words, like those on the Written Mountain, last for And the stars themselves have flowers for me, . ever :-but still there are some, as delightful perhaps,

One blossom of Heaven out-blooms them all! though not so wonderful, who, if not stars over our head, are at least flowers along our path, and whose“ Though sunny the lake of cool Casimere, sweetness of the moment we ought gratefully to in- With its plane-tree Isle reflected clear,' hale, without calling upon them for a brightness and

And sweetly the founts of that Valley fall; a durability beyond their nature. In short,” continued Though bright are the waters of Sing-SU-HAY, she, blushing, as if conscious of being caught in an And the golden foods, that thitherward stray,” oration, "it is quite cruel that a poet cannot wander Yet-oh, 'tis only the Blest can say through his regions of enchantment, without having a

How the waters of Heaven outshine them all! critic for ever, like the old Man of the sea, upon his “Go wing thy flight from star to star, back."2_FADLADEEN, it was plain, took this last From world to luminous world, as far luckless allusion to himself, and would treasure it up As the universe spreads its flaming wall; in his mind as a whetstone for his neai criticism. A Take all the pleasures of all the spheres, sudden silence ensued; and the Princess, glancing a And multiply each through endless years, look at FERAMORZ, saw plainly she must wait for a One minute of Heaven is worth them all!" more courageous moment. But the glories of Nature, and her wild, fragrant

The glorious Angel, who was keeping airs, playing freshly over the current of youthful

The gates of Light, beheld her weeping; spirits, will soon heal even deeper wounds than the

And, as he nearer drew and listen'd dull Fadladeens of this world can inflict. In an even

To her sad song, a tear-drop glisten'd ing or two after, they came to the small Valley of

Within his eyelids, like the spray Gardens, which had been planted by order of the

From Eden's fountain, when it lies Emperor for his favourite sister Rochinara, during their progress to Cashmere, some years before; and Cashmere. One is called Char Chenaur, from the plane

1 "Namerous small islands emerge from the Lake of never was there a more sparkling assemblage of trees upon it.”- Forster. sweets, since the Gulzar-e-Irem, or Rose-bower of

2 " The Altan Kol, or Golden River of Tibet, which runs into the Lakes of Sing-su hay, has abundance of gold in its

Hands, which employs the whalutants all summer in gather 1 The Humna.

2 The story of Sinbad. ling it."- Description of Tibet in Pinhorion G

On the blue flow'r, which, Braminş say, Thy cavern shrines, and idol stones,
Blooms no where but in Paradise !

Thy monarchs and their thousand thrones ? "Nymph of a fair, but erring line !"

'Tis He of Gazna!'-fierce in wrath Gently he said—“One hope is thine.

He comes, and India's diadems 'Tis written in the Book of Fate,

Lie scatter'd in his ruinous path.The Peri yet may be forgiven

His blood-hounds he adorns with gems, Who brings to this Eternal Gate

Torn from the violated necks The Gift that is most dear to Heaven''

Of many a young and lov'd Sultana ;2-Go, seek it, and redeem thy sin ;

Maidens within their pure Zenana, 'Tis sweet to let the Pardon'd in!"

Priests in the very fane he slaughters,

And choaks up with the glittering wrecks
Rapidly as comets run

Of golden shrines the sacred waters !
To th' embraces of the sun-
Fleeter than the starry brands,

Downward the Peri turns her gaze,
Flung at night from angel hands'

And, through the war-field's bloody haze, At those dark and daring sprites,

Beholds a youthful warrior stand, Who would climb th' empyreal heights,

Alone, beside his native river,Down the blue vault the Peri flies,

The red blade broken in his hand,
And, lighted earthward by a glance

And the last arrow in his quiver.
That just then broke from morning's eyes, “Live," said the Conqueror, “live to share
Hung hovering o'er our world's expanse. The trophies and the crowns I bear!"

Silent that youthful warrior stood-
But whither shall the Spirit go

Silent he pointed to the flood To find this gift for Heav'n ?-_“I know

All crimson with his country's blood, The wealth,” she cries, “ of every urn,

Then sent his last remaining dart, In which unnumber'd rubies burn,

For answer to th' Invader's heart. Beneath the pillars of ChilMINAR;2–

False flew the shaft, though pointed well; I know where the Isles of Perfume are

The Tyrant liv'd, the Hero fell ! Many a fathom down in the sea,

Yet mark'd the Peri where he lay, To the south of sun-bright ARABY;' —

And when the rush of war was past, I know too where the Genii hid

Swiftly descending on a ray The jewell'd cup of their King JAMSHID,

Of morning light, she caught the lastWith Life's elixir sparkling high

Last glorious drop his heart had shed, But gifts like these are not for the sky.

Before its frec-born spirit fled! Where was there ever a gem that shone

“ Be this,” she cried, as she wing'd her flight, Like the steps of ALLA's wonderful Throne ?

“My welcome gift at the Gates of Light. And the Drops of Life-oh! what would they be Though foul are the drops that oft distil In the boundless Deep of Eternity ?

On the field of warfare, blood like this, While thus she mus’d, her pinions fann'd

For Liberty shed, so holy is, The air of that sweet Indian land,

It would not stain the purest rill, Whose air is balm ; whose ocean spreads

That sparkles among the Bowers of Bliss ! O'er coral rocks and amber beds ;

Oh! if there be, on this earthly sphere, Whose mountains, pregnant by the beam

A boon, an offering Heaven holds dear, Of the warm sun, with diamonds teem;

'Tis the last libation Liberty draws Whose rivulets are like rich brides,

From the heart that bleeds and breaks in her catroo !" Lovely, with gold beneath their tides;

“Sweet," said the Angel, as she gave Whose sandal groves and bowers of spice

The gift into his radiant hand, Might be a Peri's Paradise !

“Sweet is our welcome of the Brave But crimson now her rivers ran

Who die thus for their native land.With human blood--the smell of death

But see-alas !--the crystal bar Came reeking from those spicy bowers,

Of Eden moves not-holier far And man, the sacrifice of man,

Than e'en this drop the boon must be, Mingled his taint with every breath

That opens the gates of Heav'n for thee !" Upwafted from the innocent flowers !

Her first fond hope of Eden blighted, Land of the Sun! what foot invades

Now among Afric's Lunar Mountains, Thy pagods and thy pillar'd shades

Far to the South, the Peri lighted; 1 "The Mahometang suppose that falling stars are the firebrands wherewith the good angels drive away the bad, 1 Mahmood of Gazna, or Ghizni, who conquered India in when they approach too near the empyreum or verge of the the beginning of the 11th century.-See his History in Dos Heavens."— Fryer.

and Sir J. Malcolm. 2 "The Forty Pillars: so the Persians call the ruins of 2 " It is reported that the hunting equipage of the Sultan Persepolis. It is imagined by them that this palace and the Mahmood was so magnificent, that he kept 100 grey hounds edifices at Balbec were built by Genii, for ihe purpose of and blood-hounds, cach of which wore a collar set with biding in their subterraneous caverns immense treasures, jewels, and a covering edged with gold and pearls."- Uniwhich still remain there."-D'Herbelot, Volney

versal History. vol. i. 3 The Isles of Panchaia.

3 "The Mountains of the Moon, or the Montes Lunæ of 4 "The cup of Janishid, discovered, they say, when dig- antiquity, at the foot of which the Nile is supposed to rise ging for the foundations of Persepolis."— Richardson. - Bruce.

And sleek'd her plumage at the fountains

And ne'er will feel that sun again! Of that Egyptian tide,—whose birth

And oh! to see th' unburied heaps Is hidden from the sons of earth,

On which the lonely moonlight sleeps Deep in those solitary woods,

The very vultures turn away, Where oft the Genii of the Floods

And sicken at so foul a prey! Dance round the cradle of their Nile,

Only the fierce hyæna stalks? Anal hail the new-born Giant's smile!'

Throughout the city's desolate walks Thence, over Egypt's palmy groves,

At midnight, and his carnage pliesHer grots, and sepulchres of kings,?

Woe to the half-dead wretch who meets The exil'd Spirit sighing roves ;

The glaring of those large blue eyes? And now hangs listening to the doves

Amid the darkness of the streets ! In warm Rosetta's vale'-now loves

“ Poor race of Men!" said the pitying Spirit, To watch the moonlight on the wings

“Dearly ye pay for your primal fallOf the white pelicans that break

Some flowrets of Eden ye still inherit, Tbe azure calm of Meris' Lake.*

But the trail of the Serpent is over them all! "Twas a fair scene-a land more bright

She wept—the air grew pure and clear Never did mortal eye behold!

Around her, as the bright drops ran; Who could have thought, that saw this night

For there's a magic in each tear
Those valleys, and their fruits of gold,

Such kindly Spirits weep for man!
Basking in heav'n's serenest light ;-
Those groups of lovely date-trees bending

Just then beneath some orange trees,
Langudly their leaf-crown'd heads,

Whose fruit and blossoms in the breeze Like youthful maids, when sleep, descending,

Were wantoning together, free, Warns them to their silken beds ;'

Like age at play with infancy-Those virgin lilies, all the night

Beneath that fresh and springing bower, Bathing their beauties in the lake,

Close by the Lake, she heard the moan That they may rise more fresh and bright,

Of one who, at this silent hour, When their beloved Sun 's awake;

Had thither stol'n to die alone. Those ruin'd shrines and towers that seem

One who in life, where'er he mov'd, The relics of a splendid dream;

Drew after him the hearts of many; Amid whose fairy loneliness

Yet now, as though he ne'er were lov'd, Nought but the lapwing's cry is heard,

Dies here, unseen, unwept by any! Nought seen but (when the shadows, flitting None to watch near him-none to slake Fast from the moon, unsheath its gleam)

The fire that in his bosom lies, Some purple-wing'd Sultana sitting

With e'en a sprinkle from that lake, Upon a column, motionless

Which shines so cool before his eyes.
And glittering, like an idol bird ! -

No voice, well-known through many a day,
Who could have thought, that there, e'en there, To speak the last, the parting word,
Amid those scenes so still and fair,

Which, when all other sounds decay,
The Demon of the Plague hath cast

Is still iike distant music heard : From his hot wing a deadlier blast,

That tender farewell on the shore More mortal far than ever came

Of this rude world, when all is o'er, From the red Desert's sands of flame!

Which cheers the spirit, ere its bark So quick, that every living thing

Puts off into the unknown Dark. Of human shape, touch'd by his wing,

Deserted youth! one thought alone Like plants, where the Simoon hath past,

Shed joy around his soul in deathAt once falls black and withering!

That she, whom he for years had known The sun went down on many a brow,

And lov'd, and might have call'd his own, Which, full of bloom and freshness then,

Was safe from this foul midnight's breath ;Is rankling in the pest-house now,

Safe in her father's princely halls,

Where the cool airs from fountain--falls,
1 " The Nile, which the Abyssinians know by the names Freshly perfum'd by many a brand
of Abey and Alawy, or the Giant."'-Asiat. Researches, or the sweet wood from India's land,
vol. i. p. 387.

2 See Perry's View of the Levan:, for an account of the Were pure as she whose brow they fann'd.
sepulchres in Upper Thebes, and the numberless grots
covered all over with hieroglyphics, in the mountains of But see,--who yonder comes by stealth,
Upper Egy!
3. The orchards of Rosetta are filled with turtlo-doves." Like a young envoy sent by Health,

This melancholy bower to seek,
-Sonnini.

4 Savary mentions the pelicans upon Lake Mæris. With rosy gifts upon her cheek?
5. The superb date-tree, whose head languidly reclines, 'Tis she-far off, through moonlight dim,
like that of a bandsome woman overcome with sleep."-

He knew his own betrothed bride, afard el Hadad.

6 "That beautiful bird, with plumage of the finest shining Tue, with purple beak and legs, the natural and living orna- 1 Jackson, speaking of the plague that occurred in West .nent of the tomples and palaces of the Greeks and Romans, Barbary, when he was there, says, " The birds of the air fled which, from the stateliness of its port, as well as the bril away from the abodes of men. The hyænas, on the con liancy, of its colours has obtained the title of Sultana."- trary, visited the cemeteries," &c. Sonnini.

2 Bruce.

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Khe, who would rather die with him,

And shook her sparkling wreath, ana shed Than live to gain the world beside !-

Such lustre o'er each paly face, Her arms are round her lover now,

That like two lovely saints they seem'd His livid cheek to hers she presses,

Upon the eve of dooms-day taken And dips, to bind his burning brow,

From their dim graves, in odour sleeping; In the cool lake her loosen'd tresses.

While that benevolent Peri beam'd Ah! once, how little did he think

Like their good angel, calmly keeping
An hour would come, when he should shrink

Watch o'er them, till their souls would waken!
With horror from that dear embrace,
Those gentle arms, that were to him

But morn is blushing in the sky;
Holy as is the cradling place

Again the PERI soars above, Of Eden's infant cherubim !

Bearing to Heav'n that precious sigh And now he yields-now turns away,

Of pure, self-sacrificing love. Shuddering as if the venom lay

High throbb'd her heart, with hope elate, All in those proffer'd lips alone

The Elysian palm she soon shall win, Those lips that, then so fearless grown,

For the bright Spirit at the gate Never until that instant came

Smil'd as she gave that offering in; Near his unask'd, or without shame.

And she already hears the trees “Oh! let me only breathe the air,

Of Eden, with their crystal bells The blessed air that's breath'd by thee,

Ringing in that ambrosial breeze And, whether on its wings it bear

That from the throne of ALLA swells; Healing or death, 'tis sweet to me!

And she can see the starry bowls There, drink my tears, while yet they fall,-

That lie around that lucid lake, Would that my bosom's blood were balm, Upon whose banks admitted souls And, well thou know'st, I'd shed it all,

Their first sweet draught of glory take !
To give thy brow one minute's calm.

But ah! e'en Peri's hopes are vain-
Nay, turn not from me that dear face--
Am I not thine-thy own lov'd bride-

Again the Fates forbade ; again

Th' immortal barrier clos'd—“not yet,"
The one, the chosen one, whose place
In life or death is by thy side!

The Angel said as, with regret,

He shut from her that glimpse of gloryThink'st thou that she, whose only light,

“True was the maiden, and her story, In this dim world, from thee hath shone, Could bear the long, the cheerless night,

Written in light o'er Alla's head, That must be hers when thou art gone?

By Seraph eyes shal! long be read. That I can live, and let thee go,

But, Peri, see the crystal bar

Of Eden moves not-holier far
Who art my life itself ?-No, no-
When the stem dies, the leaf that grew

Than e'en this sight the boon must be
That
opes

the Out of its heart must perish too!

gates of Heav'n for thee." Then turn to me, my own love, turn,

Now, upon Syria's land of roses? Before like thee I fade and burn;

Softly the light of eve reposes, Cling to these yet cool lips, and share

And, like a glory, the broad sun The last pure life that lingers there !"

Hangs over sainted LEBANON ; She fails—she sinks—as dies the lamp

Whose head in wintry grandeur towers, In charnel airs or cavern-damp,

And whitens with eternal sleet, So quickly do his baleful sighs

While summer, in a vale of flowers, Quench all the swee: light of her eyes.

sleeping rosy at his et. One struggle—and his pain is pastHer lover is no longer living !

To one, who look'd from upper air One kiss the maiden gives, one last,

O'er all th' enchanted regions there, Long kiss, which she expires in giving!

How beauteous must have been the glow,

The life, the sparkling from below! “Sleep,” said the Peri, as softly she stole

Fair gardens, shining streams, with ranks The farewell sigh of that vanishing soul,

of golden melons on their banks, As true as e'er warm'd a woman's breast

More golden where the sun-light falls ;“Sleep on; in visions of odour rest, In balmier airs than ever yet stirr'd

Gay lizards, glittering on the walls3 Th' enchanted pile of that lonely bird,

1 “On the shores of a quadrangular lake sand a thou. Who sings at the last his own death-lay,'

sand goblets, made of stars, out of which souls predestined And in music and perfume dies away !"

to enjoy felicity, drink the crystal wave."--From Cha

teaubriand's Description of the Mahometan Paradise, in Thus saying, from her lips she spread

his Berruics of Christianity. Unearthly breathings through the place,

2 Richaruson thinks that Syria had its name from Suri,

a beautiful and delicate species of rose for which thal 1 "In the East, they suppose the Phenix to have fifty country has been always famous; -hence, Suristan, he

Land of Roses. orifices in his bill, which are continued to his tail; and that, after living one thousand years, he builds himself a funeral 3 "The number of lizards I saw one day in the great pile, sings a melodious air of different harmonies through court of the Temple of the Sun at Balbec, amounted to his fifty organ pipes, flaps his wings with a velocity which many thousands; the ground, the walls, and stones of the seus fire to the wood, and consumes himself.- Richardson. / ruined buildings were covered with them."-Brucc.

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Of ruin'd shrines, busy and bright

In which the Peri's eye could read As they were all alive with light;-

Dark tales of many a ruthless deed; And, yet more splendid, numerous flocks

The ruin'd maid--the shrine profan'dOf pigeons, settling on the rocks,

Oaths broken--and the threshold stain'd With their rich restless wings, that gleam

With blood of guests !-there written, all, Variously in the crimson beam

Black as the damning drops that fall Of the warm west,—as if inlaid

From the denouncing Angel's pen,
With brilliants from the mine, or made

Ere mercy weeps them out again!
Of tearless rainbows, such as span
TH' unclouded skies of PERISTAN.

Yet tranquil now that man of crime

(As if the balmy evening time And then, the mingling sounds that come,

Soften'd his spirit, look'd and lay,
Of shepherd's ancient reed,' with hum
Or the wild bees of PALESTINE,

Watching the rosy infant's play:

Though still, whene'er his eye by chance Banqueting through the flowery vales ;

Fell on the boy's, its lurid glance And, JORDAN, those sweet banks of thine,

Met that unclouded, joyous gaze, And woods, so full of nightingales !

As torches, that have burnt all night But nought can charm the luckless PERI;

Through some impure and godless rite, Her soul is sad-her wings are weary

Encounter morning's glorious rays. Joyless she sees the sun look down

But hark! the vesper-call to prayer,
On that great Temple, once his own,

As slow the orb of daylight sets,
Whose lonely columns stand sublime,
Flinging their shadows from on high,

Is rising sweetly on the air,

From Syria's thousand minarets !
Like dials, which the wizard, Time,
Had rais'd to count his ages by!

The boy has started from the bed

Of flowers, where he had laid his head, Yet haply there may lie conceald

And down upon the fragrant sod Beneath those Chambers of the Sun,

Kneels, with luis forehead to the south, Some amulet of gems anneal'd

Lisping th' eternal name of God In upper fires, some tabret seal'd

From purity's own cherub mouth, With the great name of SOLOMON,

And looking, while his hands and eyes Which, spellid by her illumin'd eyes,

Are lifted to the glowing skies, May teach her where, beneath the moon,

Like a stray babe of Paradise, In earth or ocean lies the boon,

Just lighted on that flowery plain, The charm that can restore so soon,

And seeking for its home again! An erring Spirit to the skies !

Oh 'twas a sight—that Heav'n—that Child Cheer'd by this hope she bends her thither ;

A scene, which might have well beguil'd Still laughs the radiant eye of Heaven,

E'en haughty Ellis of a sigh Nor have the golden bowers of Even

For glories lost and peace gone by! In the rich West begun to wither;

And how felt he, the wretched Man, When, o'er the vale of BALBEC, winging

Reclining there--while memory ran Slowly, she sees a child at play,

O'er many a year of guilt and strife, Among the rosy wild-flowers singing,

Flew o'er the dark flood of his life, As rosy and as wild as they ;

Nor found one sunny resting-place, Chasing, with eager hands and eyes,

Nor brought him back one branch of grace! The beautiful blue damsel-flies,"

“There was a time," he said, in mild That flutter'd round the jasmine stems,

Heart-humbled tones—“thou blessed child ! Like winged flowers or flying gems ;

When young, and haply pure as thou, And, near the boy, who, tir'd with play,

I look'd and pray'd like thee--but now--" Now nestling 'mid the roses lay,

He hung his head-each nobler aim She saw a wearied man dismount

And hope and feeling, which had slept From his hot steed, and on the brink

From boyhood's hour, that instant came Of a small imaret's rustic fount

Fresh o'er him, and he wept-he wept !
Impatient fling him down to drink.

Blest tears of soul-felt penitence !
Then swift his haggard brow he turn'd
To the fair child, who fearless sat,

In whose benign, redeeming flow

Is felt the first, the only sense
Though never yet hath day-beam burn'd

Of guiltless joy that guilt can know.
Upon a brow more fierce than that,
Sullenly fiercema mixture dire,

“There's a drop," said the Peri, " that down from Like thunder-clouds, of gloom and fire!

the moon

Falls through the withering airs of June 1 “The Syriox, or Pao's pipe, is still a pastoral instru- Upon Egypt's land, of so healing a power, ment in Syria."- Russel. 2 The Temple of the Son at Balbec.

So balmy a virtue, that e'en in the hour 3 “ You bebold there a considerable number of a remarka. ble species of beautiful insects, the elegance of whose ap- 1 The Nucta, or Miraculous Drop, which falls in Egypt, pearance and their attire procured for them the name of precisely on Saint John's day, in June, and is supposed to Damsels."-Sonnini.

have the effect of stopping the plague.

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