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THE SEARCH AFTER HAPPINESS;

Physicians soon arrived, sage, ware, and tried,

As e'er scrawlid jargon in a darken'd room ;

With heedful glance the Sultaun's tongue they eyed, THE QUEST OF SULTAUN SOLIMAUN. Peep'd in his bath, and God knows where beside, WRITTEN IN 1817.

And then in solemn accents spoke their doom,

« His majesty is very far from well.» 0, For a glance of that gay Muse's eye,

Then each to work with his specific fell: That lighten'd on Bandello's laughing tale,

The Hakim Ibrahim instanter brought And twinkled with a lustre shrewd and sly,

His unguent Mahazzim al Zerdukkaut, Wheo Giam Batista bade her vision hail!

While Roompot, a practitioner more wily, Yet fear pot, ladies, the naïve detail

Relied on his Munaskif al fillfily. Given by the natives of that land canorous;

More and yet more in deep array appear, Italian license loves to leap the pale,

And some the front assail and some the rear: We Britons have the fear of shame before us,

| Their remedies to reinforce and vary, And, if not wise in mirth, at least must be decorous.

Came surgeon eke, and eke apothecary;

Till the tired monarch, though of words grown chary, In the far eastern clime, no great while since,

Yet dropt, to recompense their fruitless labour, Lived Sultaun Solimaun, a mighty prince,

Some hint about a bowstring or a sabre. Whose eyes, as oft as they performd their round,

There lackd, I promise you, no longer speeches, Beheld all others fix'd upon the ground;

To rid the palace of those learned leeches. Whose ears received the same unvaried phrase, « Sultaun! thy vassal hears, and he obeys !»

Then was the council call'd-by their advice, All bave their tastes-this may the fancy strike

(They deem'd the matter ticklish all, and nice, Of such grave folks as pomp and grandeur like;

And sought to shift it off from their own shoulders), For me, I love the honest heart and warm

Tatars and couriers in all speed were sent, Of monarch who can amble round his farm,

To call a sort of eastern parliament Or, when the toil of state no more annoys,

Of feudatory chieftains and freeholdersIn chimney-corner seek domestic joys

Such have the Persians at this very day, I love a prince will bid the bottle pass,

My gallant Malcolm calls them couroultai ; * Exchanging with his subjects glance and glass;

I'm not prepared to show in this slight song
In fitting time, can, gayest of the gay,

That to Serendib the same forms belong,
Keep up the jest and mingle in the lay-
Such monarchs best our free-born humours 'suit,

Een let the learn'd go search, and tell me if I'm wrong. But despots must be stately, stern, and mute.

The Omrahs, each with hand on scymitar,

Gave, like Sempronius, still their voice for warThis Solimaun, Serendib had in sway

« The sabre of the Sultaun in its sheath And where's Serendib? may some critic say

Too long has slepi, nor own'd the work of death ; Good lack, mine honest friend, consult the chart,

Let the Tambourgi bid his sigual rattle, Scare pot my Pegasus before I start!

Bang the loud gong, and raise the shout of battle! If Rennell has it not, you 'll find, mayhap,

This dreary cloud that dims our sovereign's day The isle laid down in Captain Sindbad's map,

Shall from his kindled bosom flit away, Famed mariner! whose merciless narrations

When the bold Lootie wheels his courser round, Drove every friend and kinsman out of patience,

And the arm'd elephant shall shake the ground. Till, fain to find a guest who thought them shorter,

Each noble panis to own the glorious summonsHe deigo'd to tell them over to a porter

And for the charges-Lo! your faithful Commons !» The last edition see by Long. and Co.,

The Riots who attended in their places Rees, Hurst, and Orme, our fathers in the Row.

(Serendib-language calls a farmer Riot)

Look'd ruefully in one another's faces, Serendib found, deem not my tale a fiction

From this oration auguring much disquiet, This Sultaun, whether lacking contradiction

Double assessment, forage, and free quarters : (A sort of stimulant which hath its uses,

And fearing these as China-men the Tartars,
To raise the spirits and reform the juices,
Sovereign specific for all sort of cures

Or as the whiskerd vermin fear the mousers,

Each fumbled in the pocket of his trowsers.
lo my wife's practice, and perhaps in yours),
The Sultaun lacking this same wholesome bitter,
Or cordial smooth, for prince's palate fitter-

And next came forth the reverend Convocation,
Or if some Mollah had lag-rid his dreams

Bald heads, white beards, and many a turban green, With Degial, Ginnistan, and such wild themes

Imaum and Mollah there of every station,

Santon, Fakir, and Calendar were seen. Belonging to the Mollah's subtle craft,

Their votes were various-some advised a Mosque I wot not-but the Sultaun never laugh d, Srarce ate or drank, and took a melancholy

With fitting revenues should be ererted,

With seemly gardens and with gay Kiosque, That scorn'd all remedy, profane or holy;

To recreate a band of priests selecied; la bis long list of melancholies, mad, Or mazed, or dumb, hath Burton none so bad,

For these bard words see d'iterbelot, or the learned editor of

tbe Recipes of Avicenna. "The hint of the followin, tale is taken from La Camiscia Ma- ! See Sir Jobo Malcolm's admirable History of Persia. gica, BOYel of Giam Baltista Casti.

Nobility.

Others opined that through the realms a dole

Try we the Giaours, these men of coat and cap, I Be made to holy men, whose prayers might profit Incline to think some of them must be happy; The Sultaun's weal in body and in soul; .

At least they have as fair a cause as any can, But their long-headed chief, the Sheik Ul-Sofit, They drink good wine, and keep no Ramazan. More closely touch'd the point:«Thy studious mood,» | Then northward, ho!» The vessel cuts the sea, Quoth he, « () prince! hath thicken'd all thy blood, And fair Italia lies upon ber lee.And dulld thy brain with labour beyond measure; But fair Italia, she who once unfurld Wherefore relax a space and take thy pleasure, Der eagle banners o'er a conquer'd world, And toy with beauty or tell o'er thy treasure ;

Long from her throne of domination tumbled, From all the cares of state, my liege, enlarge thee, Lay, by her quondam vassals, sorely humbled; And leave the burthen to thy faithful clergy.»

The Pope himself lookd pensive, pale, and lean,

Aud was not half the man he once had been. These counsels sage availed not a whit,

« While these the priest and those the noble fleeers, And so the patient (as is not uncommon

Our poor old boot, they said, a is torn to pieces. Where grave physicians lose their time and wit) Its tops? the vengeful claws of Austria feel, Resolved to take advice of an old woman;

And the Great Devil is rending toe and lieel. 3
His mother she, a dame who once was beauteous, If happiness you seek, to tell you truly,
And still was call'd so by each subject duteous. We think she dwells with one Giovanni Bulli;
Now, whether Fatima was witch in earnest,

A tramontane, a heretic,- the buck,
Or only made believe, I cannot say-

Poffaredio! still has all the luck; But she profess'd to cure disease the sternest,

By land or ocean never strikes his flagBy dint of magic amulet or lay;

And then-a perfect walking money-bay. And, when all other skill in vain was shown,

Off set our prince to seek Joho Bull's abode, She decm'd it fitting time to use her own.

But first took France-it lay upon the road.

«Sympathia magica hath wonders done,»

Monsieur Baboon, after much late commotion, (Thus did old Fatima bespeak her son),

Was agitated like a settling ocean, « It works upon the fibres and the pores,

Quite out of sorts, and could not tell what ail'd beim And thus, insensibly, our health restores,

Only the glory of his house had faild him; And it must help us here.- Thou must endure Besides, some tumours on his noddle biding, The ill, my son, or travel for the cure,

Gave indication of a recent hiding. 4 Search land and sea, and get, where'er you can, Our prince, though Sultaups of such things are keed The inmost vesture of a happy man,

less, I mean his siurt, my son, which, taken warm

Thought it a thing indelicate and needless And fresh from off his back, shall chase your harm, To ask, if at that moment he was happs, Bid every current of your veins rejoice,

And Monsieur, seeing that he was comme il faut, a And your dull heart leap light as shepherd-boy's.» Loud voice muster'd up, for « Vive le Roi!» Such was the counsel from his mother came.

Then whisper'd, « Ave you any news of Jappy I know not if she had some under-fame,

The Sultaun answer'd him with a cross questioa,As doctors have, who bid their patients roam

« Pray, can you tell me aught of one Jolin Ball Apl live abroad, when sure to die at home;

That dwells somewhere beyond your berring-poos Or if she thought, that, somehow or another, The query seemd of difficult digestion, Queen Regent sounded better than Queen Mother; The party shruggd, and grian'd, and took his wifi But, says the Chronicle (who will go look it ?)

And found his whole good breeding scarce enough That such was her advice--the Sultaun took it.

Twitching his visage into as many puckers All are on board—the Sultaun and his train,

As damsels wont to put into their tuckers Jn gilded galley prompt to plough the main:

(Ere liberal Fashion damn'd both lace and lisa, The old Rais' was the first who question'd, «Whi- ' And bade the veil of modesty be drawn ther?»

Replied the Frenchman, after a brief pause, They paused --« Arabia,» thought the pensive prince, « Jean Bool!-I vas not know him-yes, I vas« Was call'a The Happy many ages since

I vas remember dat vog year or two, For Mokha, Rais.»— And they came safely thither. I saw him at von place caild VaterlooBut not in Araby with all her balm,

Ma foi! il s'est très-joliment batta, Nor where Judæa weeps beneath her palm,

Dat is for Englishman,-m'entendez-vous ! Not in rich Egypt, not in Nubian waste,

But den he had wit him von damn soa-gan, Could there the step of Happiness be traced.

Rogue I no like-dey call him Vellington
One Copt alone professid to have seen her smile, Monsieur's politeness could not hide hus fret,
When Bruce his goblet fill'd at infant Nile;

So Solimaun took leave and cross d the streight.
She bless'd the dauntless traveller as he quaffd,
But vanish'd from him with the ended draught.

"The well-known resemblance of Italy in the smp

Florence, Venice, etc. « Enough of turbans, said the weary king,

The Calabrias, infested by bands of assassins « These dolimans of ours are not the thing;

leaders was called Fra Diavolo, i, e Brother Devil 1 Master of the vessel.

4 Or drubbing, so called in the Slang dictionary

John Ball was in his very worst of moods,
Raving of sterile farms and unsold goods;
His sugar-loaves and bales about he threw,
And on his counter beat the devil's tattoo.
His wars were ended, and the victory won,
But then 't was reckoning-day with honest John,
And authors vouch 't was still this worthy's way,
« Never to grumble till he came to pay;
And then he always thinks, his temper's such,
The work too little, and the pay too much.»
Yet, grumbler as he is, so kind and hearty,

That when his mortal foe was on the floor,

And past the power to harm his quiet more, Poor John had well nigh wept for Bonaparte! Such was the wight whom Solimaun salam'd, * And who are you,» John answer'd, « and be d-d ?»

She bade him «sit into the fire,» and took
Her dram, her cake, her kebbock from the nook ;
Ask'd him wabout the news from castern parts;
And of her absent bairns, puir llighland hearts !
If peace brought down the price of tea and pepper,
And if the nitmugs were grown ony cheaper ?-
Were there nae speerings of our Mungo Park-
Ye 'll be the gentleman that wants the sark?
If ye wad buy a web o'auld wife's spinning,
I'll warrant ye it's a weel-wearing linen.»

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Now, for the land of verdant Erin,
The Sultaun's royal bark is steering,
The emerald Isle where honest Paddy dwells,
The cousin of John Bull, as story tells.
For a long space had John, with words of thunder,
Hard looks, and harder knocks, kept Paddy under,
Till the poor lad, like boy that's flogg'd unduly, ,
Had gotten somewhat restive and unruly.
Hard was his lot and lodging, you 'll allow,
A wigwam that would hardly serve a sow;
His landlord, and of middlemen two brace,
Had screw'd his rent up to the starving place;
His garment was a top-coat, and an old one,
His meal was a potatoe, and a cold one ;
But still for fun or frolic, and all that,
In the round world was not the match of Pat.

Next door to John there dwelt his sister Peg,
Once a wild lass as ever shook a leg,
When the blithe bagpipe blew -- but soberer now,
She doucely span her flax and milk'd her cow.
And whereas erst she was a needy slattern,
Yor now of wealth or cleanliness a pattern,
Yet once a-month her house was partly swept,
And once a-week a plenteous board she kept.
And whereas eke the vixen used her claws,

And teeth, of yore, on slender provocation,
She now was grown amenable to laws,

A quiet soul as any in the nation; The sole remembrance of her warlike joys Was in old songs she sang to please her boys. John Bull, whom, in their years of early strife, She wont to lead a cat-and-doccish life, Nov found the woman, as he said, a neighbour, Who look'd to the main chance, declined no labour, Loved a long grace, and spoke a northern jargon, And was d- d close in making of a bargain.

The Sultaun saw him on a holiday,
Which is with Paddy still a jolly day:
When mass is ended, and bis load of sins
Confess'd, and Mother Church hath from her bions
Dealt forth a bonus of imputed merit,
Then is Pat's time for fancy, whim, and spirit!
To jest, to sing, to caper fair and free,
And dance as light as leaf upon the tree.
« By Mahomet,” said Sultaun Solimaan,
« That ragged fellow is our very man !
Rush in and seize him-do not do him hurt,
But, will he nill he, let me have his shirt.

The Sultaun enter'd, and he made his leg,
And with decorum curtsied sister Pec;
She loved a book, and knew a thing or two,
And guess'd at once with whom she had to do.)

Shilela their plan was well nigh after baulking
(Much less provocation will set it a-walking),
Bat the odds that foil'd llercules foil d Paddy Whack;
They seized, and they floor'd, and they stripp'd him-

Alack!
Up-babboo! Paddy had not--a shirt to bis back!!!
And the king, disappointed, with sorrow and shame,
Went back to Serendib as sad as he came.

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As wigwam wild, that shrouds the native frore
THE POACHER.

On the bleak coast of frost-barr'd Labrador.'
A FRAGMENT.

Approach, and through the unlatticed window peep, i
Welcome, grave stranger, to our green retreats, Nay, shrink not back, the inmate is asleep;
Where health with exercise and freedom meets ! Sunk mid yon sordid blankets, till the sun
Thrice welcome, sage, whose philoscphic plan

Stoop to the west, the plunderer's toils are done. By Nature's limits metes the rights of man;

Loaded and primer, and prompt from desperate band, Generous as he, who now for freedom bawls,

Rifle and fowling-piece beside him stand, Now gives full value for true Indian shawls;

While round the hut are in disorder laid O'er court, o'er custom-house, his shoe who flings, The tools and booty of his lawless trade; Now bilks excisemen, and now bullies kings. . . For force or fraud, resistance or escape, | Like his, I ween, thy comprehensive mind

The crow, the saw, the bludgeon, and the crape. | Holds laws as mouse-traps baited for mankind; His pilferd powder in yon nook he hoards, Thine eye, applausive, each sly vermin sees,

And the filch'd lead the church's roof affordsThat baulks the spare, yet battens on the cheese; (Hence shall the rector's congregation fret, Thine ear has heard, with scorn instead of awe, That while his sermon 's dry, his walls are wet.) Our buckskin'd justices expound the law,

The fish-spear barbid, the sweeping nel are there, Wire-draw the acts that fix for wires the pain,

Doe-hides, and pheasant plumes, and skips of hare, And for the netted partridge noose the swain ;

Cordage for toils, and wiring for the spare. And thy vindictivcarm would faig have broke

Barter d tor game from chase or warren won, The last light fetter of the feudal yoke,

Yon cask holds moonlight," run when moon was none : To give the denizens of wood and wild,

And lale-snatch'd spoils lie stowd in hutch apart, Nature's free race, to each her frec-born child. To wait the associate higgler's evening cart. Hence hast thou mark d, with grief, fair London's race Mock'd with the boon of one poor Easter chace,

Look on his pallet foul, and mark his rest : And long‘d to send them forth as free as when What scenes perturb'd are acting in his breast! Pour'd o'er Chantilly the Parisian train,

His sable brow is wet and wrung with pain, When musket, pistol, blunderbuss combined,

And his dilated nostril toils in vain, And scarce the Geld-pieces were left behind!

For short and scant the breath each effort draws, A squadron's charge each leveret's heart dismay'd,

And 'twixt each effort Nature claims a pause. On every covey fired a bold brigade:

Beyond the loose and sable neckcloth stretch'd, La Douce Humanité approved the sport,

His sinewy throat seems by convulsion twitch, For great the alarm indeed, yet small the hurt; While the tongue falters, as to utterance loth, Shouts patriotic solemnized the day,

Sounds of dire import-watch-word, threat, and oth And Seine re-echo'd Vive la Liberté! .

Though, stupified Ly toil and drugg'd with gin, But mad Citoyen, meek Monsieur again,

The body sleep, the restless guest within
With some few added links resumes bis chain; Now plies on wood and wold his lawless trade,
Then since such scenes to France no more are known, Now in the fangs of justice wakes dismay'd.-
Come, view with me a hero of thine own!
One, whose free actions vindicate the cause

« Was that wild start of terror and despair, Of sylvan liberty o'er feudal laws.

Those bursting eye-balls, and that wilder'd air,

Signs of compunction for a murder'd hare ?
Seek we yon glades, where the proud oak o'ertops Do the locks bristle and the eye-brows arch,
Wide-waving seas of birch and hazel copse,

For grouse or partridge massacred in March?
Leaving between deserted isles of land,
Where stunted heath is patch'd with ruddy sand;

No, scoffer, no! Attend, and mark with awe, And lonely on the waste the yew is seen,

There is no wicket in the gate of law! Or straggling hollies spread a brighter green.

He, that would c'er so lightly set ajar llere, little worn, and winding dark and steep,

That awful portal must undo each bar; Our scarce-mark'd path descends yon dingle deep :

Tempting occasion, labit, passion, pride, Follow-but heedful, cautious of a trip.

Will join to storm the breach, and force the barrier wide In earthly mire philosophy may slip, Step slow and wary o'er that swampy stream,

That ruffian, wliom true men avoid and dread, Till, guided by the charcoal's smothering steam,

Whom bruisers, poachers, smugglers, call Black Sed We reach the frail yet barricaded door

Was Edward Mansell ouce;-the lightest heart, Of hovel form'd for poorest of the poor;

That ever play'd on holiday his part! No hearth the fire, no vent the smoke receives,

The leader he in every Christmas game,
The walls are wattles, and the covering leaves ;

The harvest feast grew blither when he came,
For, if such hut, our forest statutes say,
Rise in the progress of one night and day

1 Sach is the law in the New Forest, Hampshire, tesdias a (Though placed where still the Conqueror's hests o'er- to increase the varions settlements of thieves, smugglers, and

stealers, who infest it. In the forest courts the presidior awe,

i wears as a badge of office an antique stirrup, said to have And his son's stirrup shines the badge of law),

that of William Rafus. See Mr Willian Rose's spirited pace. The builder claims the unenviable boon,

titled - The Red King.. To tenant dwelling, framed as slight and soon

* A capt name for smuggled spirits.

And liveliest on the chords the bow did glance,
When Edward named the tune and led the dance.
Kind was his heart, his passions quick and strong,
Hearty his laugh, and jovial was his song;
And if he loved a gun, his father swore,
« 'T was but a trick of youth would soon be o'er;
Himself had done the same some thirty years before.»

But he, whose humours spurn law's awful yoke, Must herd with those by whom law's bonds are broke. The common drcad of justice soon allies The clown, who robs the warren or excise, With sterper felons train d to act more dread, Een with the wretch by whom his fellow bled. Then, as in plagues the foul contagions pass, Leavening and festering the corrupted mass, Guilt leagues with guilt, while mutual motives draw, Their hope impunity, their fear the law; Their foes, their friends, their rendezvous the same, Till the revenue baulk'd, or pilfer'd game, Flesh the young culprit, and example leads To darker villany and direr deeds. •

'Tis at such a tide and hour,
Wizard, witch, and fiend have power,
And chastly forms through mist and shower,

Gleam on the gifted ken;
And then the affrighted prophet's ear
Drinks whispers strange of fate and fear,
Presaging death and ruin near

Among the sons of men :-
Apart from Albyn's war-array,
"T was then gray Allan sleepless lay;
Gray Allan, who, for many a day,

Had follow'd stout and stern,
Where through battle's rout and reel,
Storm of shot and hedge of steel,
Led the grandson of Lochiel,

Valiant Fassiefern.
Through steel and shot he leads no more,
Low-laid 'mid friends' and foemen's gore-
But long his native lake's wild shore,
And Sunart rough, and high Ardgower,

And Morven long shall tell,
And proud Ben Nevis hear with awe,
How, upon bloody Quatre-Bras,
Brave Cameron heard the wild hurra

Of conquest as he fell.

Wild howld the wind the forest glades along, And off the owl renewid her dismal song; Around the spot where erst be felt the wound, Red William's spectre walk d his midnight round. When o'er the swamp he cast his blighting look, From the green marshes of the stagnant brook The bitteru's sullen shout the sedges shook ; The waning moon, with storm-presaging gleam, Now gave and cow withheld her doubtful beam; The old oak stoop'd his arms, then flung them high, Bellowing and groaning to the troubled skyTwas then, that, couch'd amid the brushwood sere lo Malwood-walk, young Mansell watch'd the deer: The fattest buck received his deadly shotThe watchful keeper heard, and sought the spot. Stout were their hearts, and stubborn was their strife, O'erpower'd at length the outlaw drew his knife! Next mora a corpse was found upon the fellThe rest his waking agony may tell !

'Lone on the outskirts of the host,
The weary sentinel held post,
And heard, through darkness far aloof,
The frequent clang of courser's hoof,
Where held the cloak'd patrole their course,
And spurrd 'gainst storm the swerving horse;
But there are sounds in Allan's car,
Patrole por sentinel may hear,
And si:hts before his eye achast
Invisible to them have pass'd,

When down the destined plain
"Twixt Britain and the bands of France,
Wild as marsh-borne meteors glance,
Strange phantoms wheeld a revel.dance,

And doomd the future slain.-
Such forms were seen, such sounds were heard,
When Scotland's James Jis march prepared

For Flodden's fatal plain;
Such, when he drew his ruthless sword,
As Chusers of the Slain, adored

The yet unchristen'd Dane.
An indistinct and phantom band,
. They wheel'd their ring-dance hand in hand,

With gesture wild and dread;
The seer, who watch'd them ride the storm,
Saw through their faint and shadowy form

The lightning's flash more red;
And still their ghastly roundelay
Was of the coming battle-fray,

And of the destined dead.

THE DANCE OF DEATH.

Niger and morning were at meeting

Over Waterloo ; Cocks had sung their earliest greeting,

Faint and low they crew, For no paly beam yet shoge On the beights of Mount Saint John; Tempest-clouds prolongd the sway Of timeless darkness over day; Whirlwind, thunder-clap, and shower, Mark'd it a predestined hour. Broad aod frequent through the night Flash'd the sheets of levin-light; Muskets, clancing lightnings back, Show'd the dreary bivouack

Where the soldier lay, Chill and stiff, and drench'd with rain, Wishing dawn of morn again,

Though death should come with day.

SONG. Wheel the wild dance, While lightnings glance,

And thunders rattle loud, And call the brave To bloody grave,

To sleep without a shroud.

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