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WHILE THE PRINCESS SAT LISTENING ANXIOUSLY, WITH FADLADEEN IN ONE OF HIS LOFTIEST MOODS OF CRITICISM BY HER SIDE, THE YOUNG POET, LEANING AGAINST A BRANCH OF THE TREE; THUS CONTINUED HIS STORY..

J.Porter Printer.

THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY

ASTOR. LENOX

TILDEN FOUNDATIONS

THE morn has risen clear and calm,
And o'er the Green Sea* palely shines,
Revealing BAHREIN'st groves of palm,
And lighting KISHMA's† amber vines.
Fresh smell the shores of ARABY,
While breezes from the Indian sea
Blow round SELAMA'st sainted cape,
And curl the shining flood beneath,
Whose waves are rich with many a grape,
And cocoa-nut and flowery wreath,
Which pious seamen, as they pass'd,
Have tow'rd that holy head-land cast-
Oblations to the Genii there

For gentle skies and breezes fair!
The nightingale now bends her flight
From the high trees, where all the night

She sung so sweet,

The Persian Gulf.

Sea, or Persian Gulf." †Islands in the Gulf.

with none to listen;

"To dive for pearls in the Green Sir William Jones.

† Or Selemeh, the genuine name of the headland at the entrance of the Gulf, commonly called Cape Musseldom. "The Indians, when they pass the promontory, throw cocoa-nuts, fruits, or flowers, into the sea, to secure a propitious voyage" Morier.

P

And hides her from the morning star
Where thickets of pomegranate glisten
In the clear dawn, bespangled o'er

With dew, whose night-drops would not stain
The best and brightest scimitar*

That ever youthful Sultan wore
On the first morning of his reign!

And see-the Sun himself! on wings
Of glory up the East he springs.
Angel of Light! who from the time
Those heavens began their march sublime,
Has first of all the starry choir
Trod in his Maker's steps of fire!

Where are the days, thou wondrous sphere,

When IRAN, like a sun-flower, turn'd
To meet that eye where'er it burn'd?
When, from the banks of BENDEMEER
To the nut-groves of SAMARCAND
Thy temples flam'd o'er all the land?
Where are they? ask the shades of them
Who, on CADESSIA's* bloody plains,

In speaking of the climate of Shiraz, Franklin says, "the dew is of such a pure nature, that, if the brightest scimitar should be exposed to it all night, it would not receive the least rust."

The place where the Persians were finally defeated by the Arabs, and their ancient monarchy destroyed.

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