While thus she mused, her pinions fann'd
The air of that sweet Indian land,
Whose air is balm; whose ocean spreads
O'er coral rocks, and amber beds ;
Whose mountains, pregnant by the beam
Of the warm sun, with diamonds teem;
Whose rivulets are like rich brides,
Lovely, with gold beneath their tides;
Whose sandal groves and bow'rs of spice
Might be a Peri's Paradise!

But crimson now her rivers ran

With human blood-the smell of death Came reeking from those spicy bow'rs, And man, the sacrifice of man,

Mingled his taint with ev'ry breath Upwafted from th' innocent flow'rs. Land of the Sun! what foot invades Thy Pagods and thy pillar'd shades*— Thy cavern shrines, and Idol stones,

Thy Monarchs and their thousand Thrones ? "Tis He of GAZNA-fierce in wrath

He comes, and INDIA's diadems L scatter'd in his ruinous path.

His bloodhounds he adorns with gems, Torn from the violated necks

Of many a young and loved Sultana ;*

Grandpre) in the abyss made by the fire beneath foundations."-Voyage to 53 Indian Ocean.

1 The Isles of Panchaia.

heir

2" The cup of Jamshid, discovered, they say, when digging for the foundations of Persepolis."-Richardson.

"It is not like the Sea of India, whose bottom is rich with pearls and ambergris, whose mountains of the coast are stored with gold and precious stones, whose gulfs breed creatures that yield ivory, and among the plants of whose shores are ebony, red wood, and the wood of Hairzan, aloes, camphor, cloves, sandal-wood, and all other spices and aromatics; where parrots and peacocks are birds of the forest, and musk and civet are collected upon the lands."Travels of two Mohammedans.

Maidens, within their pure Zenana, Priests in the very fane he slaughters, And chokes up with the glitt'ring wrecks Of golden shrines the sacred waters! Downward the PERI turns her gaze, And, through the war-field's bloody haze Beholds a youthful warrior stand,

Alone beside his native river,The red blade broken in his hand,

And the last arrow in his quiver. "Live," said the Conqu'ror, "live to share "The trophies and the crowns I bear!" Silent that youthful warrior stoodSilent he pointed to the flood

All crimson with his country's blood,
Then sent his last remaining dart,
For answer, to th' Invader's heart

where he displayed to the people his wealth in golden thrones and in other ornaments, in a great plain without the city of Ghizni."-Ferishta.

"Mahmood of Gazna, or Ghizni, who conquered India in the beginning of the 11th century."-See his History in Dow and Sir J. Malcolm.

7 "It is reported that the hunting equipage of the Sultan Mahmood was so magnificent, that he kept 400 greyhounds and bloodhounds, each of which wore a collar set with jewels, and a covering edged with gold and pearls."-Universal History, vol. iii.

8 Objections may be made to my use of the word Liberty in this, and more especially in the story that follows it, as totally inapplicable to any state of things that has ever existed in the East; but though I cannot, of course, mean to employ it in that enlarged and noble sense which is so well understood at the present day, and, I grieve to say, so little acted upon, yet it is no disparagement to the word to apply it to that national independence, that freedom from the interference and dictation of foreigners, without which, indeed, no liberty of any kind can exist; and for which both Hindoos and Persians fought against their Mussulman invaders with, in many cases, a bravery that deserved much better success.

""Tis the last libation Liberty draws

"From the heart that bleeds and breaks in her cause!"

"Sweet," said the Angel, as she gave

The gift into his radiant hand,

"Sweet is our welcome of the Brave

"Who die thus for their native Land."But see-alas!-the crystal bar "Of Eden moves not-holier far "Than ev'n this drop the boon must be, "That opes the Gates of Heav'n for thee!"

Her first fond hope of Eden blighted,

Now among AFRIC's lunar Mountains,' Far to the South, the PERI lighted;

And sleek'd her plumage at the fountains

Of that Egyptian tide-whose birth
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 sepulchres of. Kings,
The exiled Spirit sighing roves;
And now hangs list'ning to the doves
In warm ROSETTA's vale1-now loves

To watch the moonlight on the wings
Of the white pelicans that break
The azure calm of MIRIS' Lake."
"Twas a fair scene-a Land more bright
Never did mortal eye behold!
Who could have thought, that saw this night

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

1 "The Mountains of the Moon, or the Montes Luna of antiquity, at the foot of which the Nile is supposed to arise." -Bruce.

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

2 "The Nile, which the Abyssinians know by the names of Abey and Alawy, or the Giant.”- Asiat. Research. vol.i. p.387. 3 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.

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 tow'rs that seem
The relics of a splendid dream;

Amid whose fairy loneliness

Naught but the lapwing's cry is heard,
Naught seen but (when the shadows, flitting
Fast from the moon, unsheath its gleam,).
Some purple-wing'd Sultana' sitting

Upon a column, motionless

And glitt'ring 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 ev'ry living thing

Of human shape, touch'd by his wing,

Like plants, where the Simoom hath pass'
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,
And ne'er will feel that sun again.
And, oh! to see th' unburied heaps
On which the lonely moonlight sleeps-
The very 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:—

Wo to the half-dead wretch, who meets
The glaring of those large blue eyes1o
Amid the darkness of the streets!

7 "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 colors, has obtained the title of Sul tana."-Sonnini.

8 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 hyænas, 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

5 Savary mentions the pelicans upon Lake Maris. "The superb date-tree, whose head languidly reclines, like that of a handsome woman overcome with sleep."Dafard el Hadad

expose in the streets without burial, and who firmly believe that these animals are Falashta from the neighboring mountains, transformed by magic, and come down to eat human flesh in the dark in safety."-Bruce. 10 Ibid.

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 infancy-
Beneath that fresh and springing bower,
Close by the Lake, she heard the moan

Of one who, at this silent hour,

Had thither stol'n to die alone.
One who in life where'er he moved,

Drew after him the hearts of many;
Yet now, as though he ne'er were loved,
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,

Is still like distant music heard;—
That tender farewell on the shore
Of this rude world, when all is o'er,
Which cheers the spirit, ere its bark
Puts off into the unknown Dark.

Deserted youth! one thought alone

Shed joy around his soul in deathThat she, whom he for years had known, And loved, 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 perfumed 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 bow'r to seek,
Like a young envoy, sent by Health,
With rosy gifts upon her cheek?
'Tis she-far 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.

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

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!
And now he yields-now turns away,
Shudd'ring as if the venom lay
All in those proffer'd lips alone-
Those lips that, then so fearless grown,
Never until that instant came
Near his unask'd or without shame.
"Oh! let me only breathe the air,

"The blessed air, that's breathed by thee, "And, whether on its wings it bear

"Healing or death, 'tis sweet to me! "There-drink my tears, while yet they fall"Would that my bosom's blood were balm, "And, well thou know'st, I'd shed it all,

66

"To give thy brow one minute's calm.

Nay, turn not from me that dear face"Am I not thine-thy own loved bride"The one, the chosen one, whose place "In life or death is by thy side? "Think'st thou that she, whose only light

"In this dim world, from thee hath shone, "Could bear the long, the cheerless night,

"That must be hers when thou art gone? "That I can live, and let thee go, "Who art my life itself?-No, no"When the stem dies, the leaf that grew "Out of its heart must perish too! "Then turn to me, my own love, turn, "Before, like thee, I fade and burn;

Sleep," said the PERI, as softly she stole The farewell sigh of that vanishing soul, As true as e'er warm'd a woman's breast

"Th' enchanted pile of that lonely bird, "Who sings at the last his own death-lay,' "And in music and perfume dies away!"

2 "In the East, they suppose the Phoenix to have fifty orifices in his bill, which are continued to his tail; and that, after living one thousand years, he builds himself a funeral