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Thus sung thę swain ; and ancient legends say,
The maids of Bagdat verified the lay :
Dear to the plains, the virtues came along,
The shepherds lov'd, and Selim bless'd his song.

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IN

Nfilent horror o'er the boundless waste

The driver Hassan with his camels past :
One cruise of water on his back he bore,
And his light scrip contain'd a scanty store;
A fan of painted feathers in his hand,
To guard his shaded face from scorching fand.
The sultry sun had gain'd the middle sky,
And not a tree, and not an herb was nigh ;
The beasts, with pain, their dufty way pursue,
Shrill roar'd the winds, and dreary was the view !
With desperate forrow wild, th' affrighted man
Thrice figh’d, thrice struck his breast, and thus began :

“ Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
“ When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!"

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Ah! little thought I of the blasting wind,
The thirst or pinching hunger that I find !
Bethink thee, Hlafi'an, where Mall thirst affwago,
When fails this cruise, his unrelenting rage?
Soon thall this serip its precious load resign;
Then what but tears and hunger Mall be thine ?

Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear
In all my griefs a more than equal share !
Here, where no springs in murmurs break away,
Or moss-crownd fountains mitigate the day,
In vain ye hope the green delights to know,
Which plains more blest, or verdant vales below :
lleve rocks one, and tasteless lands are found,
And faint and fickly winds for ever howl around.

“ Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
“ When firn fiom Schiraz' walls I bent my way!"

Curll be the gold and liver which persuade
Weak men to follow far-fatiguing trade!
The lilly peace outshines the filver store,
And lifo is dearer than the golden ore :
Yet money tempts us o'er the desert brown,
To every distant mart and wealthy town.
Full oft we tempt the land, and oft the sea :
And are we only yet repay'd hy thee?
Ah! why was ruin fo attractive made,
Or why fond man fo casily betray'd ?

Why

Why heed we not, while mad we haste along,
The gentle voice of peace, or pleasure's song?
Or wherefore think the flowery mountain's fide,
The fountain's murmurs, and the valley's pride,
Why think we these less pleasing to behold,
Than dreary deserts, if they lead to gold?

“ Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
" When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!"

O cease, my fears !-all frantic as I go,
When thought creates unnumber'd scenes of woe,
What if the lion in his rage I meet! -
Oft in the dust I view his printed feet :
And fearful! oft, when day's declining light
Yields her pale empire to the mourner night,
By hunger rous’d, he scours the groaning plain,
Gaunt wolves and sullen tygers in his train :
Before them death with shrieks directs their way,
Fills the wild yell, and leads them to their prey.

“ Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
" When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!

At that dead hour the silent asp shall creep,
If aught of rest I find, upon my sleep:
Or fome swoln serpent twist his scales around,
And wake to anguish with a burning wound.
Thrice happy they, the wise contented poor,
From luft of wealth, and dread of death secure!

They

They tempt no deserts, and no griefs they find ;
Peace rules the day, where reason rules the mind.

“ Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
• When firrt from Schiraz' walls I bent my way 13

O hapless youth! for the thy love hath won,
The tender Zara will be most undonc !
Big swell'd my heart, and own'd the powerful maid,
When falt she dropt her tears, as thus she said :
“ Farewel the youth, whom fighs could not detain,
Whom Zara's breaking heart implord in vain !
Yet as thou go'st, may every blaft arise
« Weak and unfelt as these reje&ted fighs!
“ Safe o'er the wild, no perils may't thou see,
No griefs endure, nor weep, false youth, like me."
O let me safely to the fair return,
Say with a kiss, Me must not, shall not mourn;
01 let me teach my heart to lose its fears,
Recallid by wisdom's voice, and Zara's tears.

He said, and call'd on heaven to bless the day, When back to Schiraz' walls he bent his way.

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ECLOGUE

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IN

N Georgia's land, where Tefilis' towers are seen,

In diftant view along the level green,
While evening dews enrich the glittering glade,
And the tall forests cast a longer shade,
What time 'tis sweet o'er fields of rice to stray,
Or scent the breathing maize at setting day ;
Amidst the maids of Zagen's peaceful grove,
Emyra sung the pleasing cares of love.

Of Abra first began the tender strain,
Who led her youth with flocks upon the plain :
At morn she came those willing Aocks to lead,
Where lillies rear them in the watery mead;
From early dawn the live-long hours she told,
Till late at filent eve lhe penn'd the fold.
Deep in the grove, beneath the secret shade,
A various wreath of odorous flowers she made:
Gay-motley'd pinks and sweet jonquils the chose,
The violet blue that on the moss-bank grows;

All

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