Of the wild bees of PALESTINE, Banquetting through the flowery vales; And, JORDAN, those sweet banks of thine, And woods, so full of nightingales ! But nought can charm the luckless PERI; 6 On that great Temple, once his own, Yet haply there may lie conceal'd Beneath those Chambers of the Sun, Some amulet of gems, anneal'd 6 The Temple of the Sun at Balbec. May teach her where, beneath the moon, In earth or ocean lies the boon, The charm, that can restore so soon, Cheer'd by this hope she bends her thither; 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, "You behold there a considerable number of a remarkable species of beautiful insects, the elegance of whose appearance and their attire procured for them the name of Damsels.". Sonnini. She saw a wearied man dismount From his hot steed, and on the brink Of a small imaret's rustic fount 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! Ere Mercy weeps them out again! Yet tranquil now that man of crime, Though still, whene'er his eye by chance Fell on the boy's, its lurid glance Met that unclouded, joyous gaze, As torches, that have burnt all night Through some impure and godless rite, Encounter morning's glorious rays. But hark! the vesper call to prayer, Is rising sweetly on the air, From SYRIA's thousand minarets! The boy has started from the bed Kneels, with his forehead to the south, Lisping th' eternal name of God From purity's own cherub mouth, And seeking for its home again! Oh 'twas a sight that Heav'n - that Child A scene, which might have well beguil❜d Ev'n haughty EBLIS of a sigh For glories lost and peace gone by! And how felt he, the wretched Man Nor brought him back one branch of grace! but now "I look'd and pray'd like thee Blest tears of soul-felt penitence! In whose benign, redeeming flow Is felt the first, the only sense Of guiltless joy that guilt can know. " |