Pray suspend the proofs, for I am bitten again and have quantities for other parts of the bravula Yours ever, "B." "P. S. You shall have them in the course of the "I was honored with your unexpected and very "Your obliged and most obedient servant, LETTER CLXVI. TO MR. MURRAY. "August 26, 1813. "I have looked over and corrected one proof, but not so carefully (God knows if you can read it through, but I can't) as to preclude your eye from discovering some omission of mine or commission of your printer. If you have patience, look it over. Do you know any body who can stop-I mean point-commas, and so forth? for I am, I The following notes to Mr. Murray, have reference hear, a sad hand at your punctuation. I have, but to a fifth edition of the "Giaour," then in press; snake of a Poem, which has been lengthening its with some difficulty, not added any more to this The poem first appeared in the May preceding, and contained originally but about four hundred lines, being more than a canto and a half of Childe rattles every month. It is now fearfully long, and was gradually increased through successive Harold, which contains but eight hundred and editions to its present number, nearly fourteen eighty-two lines per book, with all late additions hundred. In a note which accompanied the man-inclusive. uscript of the paragraph commencing "And turn to groans his roundelay," was inserted during the revision of the proofs. The passage stood originally thus: "Fair clime! where ceaseless summer smiles Benignant o'er those blessed isles, Which, seen from far Colonna's height, And give to loneliness delight. There shine the bright abodes ye seek, That wakes and wafts the fragrance there.” The several passages beginning "The last lines Hodgson likes. It is not often he does, and when he don't, he tells me with great energy, and I fret and alter. I have thrown them in to soften the ferocity of our Infidel, and, for a dying man, have given him a good deal to say for himself. "I was quite sorry to hear you say you stayed in town on my account, and I hope sincerely you de not mean so superfluous a piece of politeness. of "Our six critiques !-they would have made hall a Quarterly by themselves; but this is the age criticism.' "If the old line stands, let the other run thus- "Note. To partake of food-to break bread and taste salt with your host, ensures the safety of the guest; even though an enemy, his person from that moment becomes sacred. "If you send more proofs, I shall never finish this infernal story-Ecce signum '-thirty-three "There is another additional note sent yesterday lines more enclosed! to the utter discomfiture of -on the Priest in the Confessional. the printer, and, I fear, not to your advantage. "B." • This is written on a separate slip piece of paper enclosed. P. S. I leave this to your discretion; if any nage, and, after a long struggle between the Dody thinks the old line a good one, or the cheese a natural desire of destroying one's fellow-creatures, bad one, don't accept either. But, in that case, and the dislike of seeing men play the fool for the word share is repeated soon after in the line-nothing,-I got one to make an apology, and the similar mistakes. LETTER CLXIX. you other to take it, and left them to live happy ever after. One was a peer, the other a friend untitled, and both fond of high play;-and one, I can swear for, though very mild, not fearful,' and so dead a shot, that, though the other is the thinnest of men, he would have split him like a cane. They both conducted themselves very well, and I put them out of pain as soon as I could. * There is an American Life of G. F. Cooke, Scurra deceased, lately published. Such a book !—İ believe, since Drunken Barnaby's Journal, nothing like it has drenched the press. All green-room and tap-room-drams and the drama-brandy, whiskeypunch, and, latterly, toddy, overflow every page. should live so long drunk, and, next, that he should Two things are rather marvellous-first, that a man have found a sober biographer. There are some very laughable things in it, nevertheless:-but the pints he swallowed, and the parts he performed, are "I have received and read the British Review. I too regularly registered. really think the writer in most points very right. "All this time you wonder that I am not gone; The only mortifying thing is the accusation of so do I; but the accounts of the plague are very imitation. Crabbe's passage I never saw, and Scott perplexing-not so much for the thing itself as the I no further meant to follow than in his lyric quarantine established in all ports, and from all measure, which is Gray's, Milton's, and any one's places, even from England. It is true the forty or who likes it. The Giaour' is certainly a bad sixty days would, in all probability, be as foolishly character, but not dangerous; and I think his fate spent on shore as in the ship; but one likes to have and his feelings will meet with few proselytes. I one's choice, nevertheless. Town is awfully empty; shall be very glad to hear from or of you, when but not the worse for that. I am really puzzled with please; but don't put yourself out of your way on my perfect ignorance of what I mean to do;-not stay, if I can help it, but where to go? Sligo is for my account." the North,-a pleasant place, Petersburgh, in September, with one's ears and nose in a muff or else tumbling into one's neckcloth or pocket handkerchief! If the winter treated Bonaparte with so little ceremony, what would it inflict upon your solitary traveller? give me a sun, I care not how hot, and sherbet, I care not how cool, and my Heaven is as easily made as your Persian's. The Giaour is now one thousand and odd lines. Lord Fanny spins a thousand such a day,' eh, Moore ?→→ "As our late-I might say, deceased-correspon-thou wilt needs be a wag, but I forgive it. dence had too much of the town-life leaven in it, "BN." we will now paulo majora,' prattle a little of literature in all its branches; and first of the first- "P. S. I perceive I have written a flippant and criticism. The Prince is at Brighton, and Jackson, rather cold-hearted letter: let it go, however. I the boxer, gone to Margate, having, I believe, have said nothing, either, of the brilliant sex; but decoyed Yarmouth to see a milling in that polite the fact is, I am at this moment, in a far more serineighborhood. Made. de Stael Holstein has lost ous, and entirely new scrape than any of the last one of her young barons, who has been carbona- twelvemonth,-and that is saying a good deal. * doed by a vile Teutonic adjutant,-kilt and killed It is unlucky we can neither live with or without in a coffee-house at Scrawsenhawsen. Corinne is, these women. TO MR. MOORE. "Bennet street, Aug. 22, 1813. "Yours ever, of course, what all mothers must be,-but will, I "I am now thinking and regretting that just as I venture to prophesy, do what few mothers could have left Newstead, you reside near it. Did you write an Essay upon it. She can not exist without ever see it? do-but don't tell me that you like it. a grievance and somebody to see, or read, how If I had known of such intellectual neighborhood, I much grief becomes her. I have not seen her since don't think I should have quitted it. You could the event; but merely judge (not very charitably) have come over so often, as a bachelor, for it was from prior observation. a thorough bachelor's mansion-plenty of wine and It is odd that we can't "In a mail-coach copy' of the Edinburgh, I such sordid sensualities-with books enough, room perceive the 'Giaour' is second article. The numbers enough, and an air of antiquity about all (except are still in the Leith smack-pray, which way is the the lasses) that would have suited you, when penwind? The said article is so very mild and senti- sive, and served you to laugh at when in glee. I mental, that it must be written by Jeffrey in love; had built myself a bath and a vault-and now I you know he is gone to America to marry some shan't even be buried in it. fair one, of whom he has been for several quarters, even be certain of a grave, at least a particular one. éperdument amoureux. Seriously-as Winifred Jen- I remember, when about fifteen, reading your poems kins says of Lismahago-Mr. Jeffrey (or his deputy) there, which I can repeat almost now,-And askhas done the handsome thing by me,' and I say ing all kinds of questions about the author, when I nothing. But this I will say,-if you and I had heard he was not dead according to the preface; knocked one another on the head in this quarrel, wondering if I should ever see him-and though, how he would have laughed, and what a mighty at that time, without the smallest poetical propenbad figure we should have cut in our posthumous sity myself, very much taken, as you may imagine, works. By-the-by, I was called in the other day to with that volume. Adieu-I commit you to the mediate between two gentlemen bent upon car * • See Don Juan, Canto x., stanza xvi. "A Persian's heav'n is easily made- are of the gods-Hindoo, Scandinavian, and "I have been thinking of a story, grafted on the Hellenic ! amours of a Peri and a mortal-something like "P. S. 2d. There is an exellent review of Grimm's only more philanthropical, than Cazotte's Diabk Correspondence and Mad. de Staël in this No. of Amoreaux. It would require a good deal of poes; the Edinburgh Review. and tenderness is not my forte. For that, and other Jeffrey, himself, was my critic last year; but this reasons, I have given up the idea, and merely is, I believe, by another hand. I hope you are going suggest it to you because, in intervals of your on with your grand coup-pray door that damned greater work, I think it a subject you might make Lucien Bonaparte will beat us all. I have seen much of. If you want any more books, there is much of his poem in MS. and he really surpasses Castellan's Mours des Ottomans,' the best comevery thing beneath Tasso. Hodgson is translating pendium of the kind I ever met with, in six small him against another bard. You and (I believe, tomes. I am really taking a liberty by talking in Rogers) Scott, Gifford, and myself, are to be re- this style to my elders and my betters; '-pardon ferred to as judges between the twain; that is, if you it, and don't Rochefoucault my motives. accept the office. Conceive our different opinions! I think we, most of us (I am talking very impudently, you will think-us, indeed!) have a way of our own, at least, you and Scott certainly have." LETTER CLXX. TO MR. MOORE. "Aug. 28, 1813. LETTER CLXXI. TO MR. MOORE. "August-September, I mean-1, 1913. "I send you, begging your acceptance, Castellan, three vols. on Turkish Literature, not yet looked "Ay, my dear Moore, there was a time'-I have into. The last I will thank you to read, extract heard of your tricks when you was campaigning what you want, and return in a week, as they are at the king of Bohemy.' I am much mistaken if, lent to me by the brightest of northern constella some fine London spring, about the year 1815, that tions, Mackintosh,-among many other kind things time does not come again. After all we must end into which India has warmed him, for I am sure in marriage; and I can conceive nothing more de- your home Scotsman is of a less genial description. lightful than such a state in the country, reading "Your Peri, my dear M., is sacred and inviolable; the county newspaper, &c., and kissing one's wife's I have no idea of touching the hem of her petticoat maid. Seriously, would incorporate with any Your affectation of a dislike to encounter me is se woman of decent demeanor to-morrow-that is, I flattering, that I begin to think myself a very fine would a month ago, but, at present, *.fellow. But you are laughing at me-stap my "Why don't you, parody that Ode?'*-Do you vitals, Tam! thou art a very impudent person; think I should be tetchy? or have you done it, and and, if you are not laughing at me, you deserve to won't tell me?-You are quite right, about Giam-be laughed at. Seriously, what on earth can you, or schid, and I have reduced it to a dissyllable within have you, to dread from any poetical flesh breaththis half-hour. I am glad to hear you talk of ing? It really puts me out of humor to hear you Richardson, because it tells me what you won't-talk thus. But that you are going to beat Lucien. At least, tell "The Giaour' I have added to a good deal; but me how far you have proceeded. Do you think me still in foolish fragments. It contains about twelve less interested about your works, or less sincere hundred lines, or rather more-now printing. You than our friend Ruggiero? I am not-and never will allow me to send you a copy. You delight me was. In that thing of mine, the English Bards,' much by telling me that I am in your good graces, at the time when I was angry with all the world, I and more particularly as to temper; for, unluckily, neverdisparaged your parts,' although I did not I have the reputation of a very bad one. know you personally; and have always regretted that they say the devil is amusing when pleased, and I you don't give us an entire work, and not sprinkle must have been more venomous than the old seryourself in detatched pieces-beautiful, I allow, and pent, to have hissed or stung in your company. It quite alone in our language, but still giving us a may be, and would appear to a third person, an inright to expect a Shah Nameh (is that the name?) credible thing, but I know you will believe me when as well as Gazels. Stick to the East; the oracle, I say that I am as anxious for your success as one Staël, told me it was the only poetical policy. The human being can be for another's, -as much as if North, South, and West, have all been exhausted; I had never scribbled a line. Surely the field of fame but from the East, we have nothing but Southey's is wide enough for all; and if it were not, I would unsaleables, and these he has contrived to spoil, not willingly rob my neighbor of a rood of it. Now by adopting only their most outrageous fictions. you have a pretty property of some thousand acres His personages don't interest us, and yours will. there, and when you have passed your present EnYou will have no competitor; and if you had, you closure Bill, your income will be doubled (there's a ought to be glad of it. The little I have done in metaphor, worthy of a Templar, namely, pert and that way is merely a voice in the wilderness' for low,) while my wild common is too remote to incomyou; and, if it has had any success, that also will prove that the public are orientalizing, and pave the path for you. The Ode of Horace, "Natis in usum lætitiæ," &c., some passages of which Mr. Moore told him might be parodied, in allusion to some of his late adventures: "Quanta laboras in Charybdi! Digne puer meliore flamma!" mode you, and quite incapable of such fertility. 1 send you (which return per post, as the printer would say) a curious letter from a friend of mine,* "Albany, Monday, Aug. 31, 1813. • See Heaven and Earth, page 248. †The following letter of Lord Sligo."My Dear Byron, "You have requested me to tell you all that I heard at Athens about the affair of that girl who was so near being put an end to while you were there; In his first edition of the Giaour he had used this word as a trisyllable, you have asked me to mention every circumstance, in the remotest degree r Bright as the gem of Giamschid,"-but on Mr. Moore's remarking to him, lating to it, which I heard. In compliance with your wishes, I write to you apon the authority of Richardson's Persian Dictionary, that this was incorrect, all I heard, and I cannot imagine it to be very far from the fact, as the cl me altered it to "Bright as the ruby of Giamschid." On seeing this, how-cumstance happened only a day or two before I arrived at Athens, and com ever, Mr. M. wrote to him, "that, as the comparison of his heroine's eye to sequently was a matter of common conversation at the time. 'ruby' might uninckily call up the idea of its being bloodshot, he had "The new governor, unaccustomed to have the same intercourse with the better change the line to Bright as the jewel of Giamschid;""-which he Christians as his predecessor, had, of course, the barbarous Turkish ideas with accordingly did in the following edition. regard to women. In consequence and in compliance with the strict letter which will let you into the origin of the Giaour.'|pose I shall hear from you to-morrow. If not, this Write soon. "Ever, dear Moore, yours most entirely, &c. "P. S. This letter was written to me on account of a different story circulated by some gentle women of our acquaintance, a little too close to the text. The part erased contained merely some Turkish names, and circumstantial evidence of the girl's detection, not very important or decorous." goes as it is; but I leave room for a P. S., in case any thing requires an answer. Ever, &c. "No letter n'importe. Rogers thinks the Quarterly will be at me this time: if so, it shall be a war of extermination-no quarter. From the youngest devil down to the oldest woman of that Review, all shall perish by one fatal lampoon. The ties of nature shall be torn asunder, for I will not even spare my bookseller; nay, if one were to include readers also, all the better." LETTER CLXXII. TO MR. MOORE. "Sept. 5, 1813. "You need not tie yourself down to a day with Toderini, but send him at your leisure, having anatomized him into such anrotations as you want; I do not believe he has ever undergone that process before, which is the best reason for not sparing him now. LETTER CLXXIII. TO MR. MOORE. "Sept. 8, 1813. "I am sorry to see Tod again, so soon, for fear your scrupulous conscience should have prevented you from fully availing yourself of his spoils. By this coach I send you a copy of that awful pamphlet, the Giaour,' which has never procured me half so high a compliment as your modest alarm. You will "Rogers has returned to town, but not yet recov-(if inclined in an evening), perceive that I have ered of the Quarterly. What fellows these review-added much in quantity,-a circumstance which ers are! these bugs do fear us all.' They made may truly diminish your modesty upon the subject. you fight, and me (the milkiest of men) a satirist, You stand certainly in great need of a 'lift' and will end by making Rogers madder than Ajax. with Mackintosh. My dear Moore, you strangely I have been reading Memory' again, the other day, underrate yourself. I should conceive it an affectaand 'Hope' together, and retain all my preference of tion in any other; but I think I know you well the former. His elegance is really wonderful enough to believe that you don't know your own There is no such thing as a vulgar line in his book. "What say you to Bonaparte? Remember, I back him against the field, barring Catalepsy and the elements. Nay, I almost wish him success against all countries but this,-were it only to choke the Morning Post, and his undutiful father-in-law, with that rebellious bastard of Scandinavian adoption, Bernadotte. Rogers wants me to go with him on a crusade to the Lakes, and to beseige you on our way. This last is a great temptation, but I fear it will not be in my power, unless you would go on with one of us somewhere-no matter where. It is too late for Matlock, but we might hit upon some scheme, high life or low, the last would be much the best for amusement. I am so sick of the other, that I quite sigh for a cider-cellar, or a cruise in a smuggler's sloop. "You cannot wish more than I do that the Fates were a little more accommodating to our parallel lines, which prolong ad infinitum without coming i a jot the nearer. I almost wish I were married too, which is saying much. All my friends, seniors and juniors, are in for it, and ask me to be godfather,the only species of parentage which, I believe, will ever come to my share in a lawful way; and, in an unlawful one, by the blessing of Lucina, we can never be certain,-though the parish may. I sup-. some delay in obeying your orders, you were obliged to inform the leader of value. However, 'tis a fault that generally mends; and, in your case, it really ought. I have heard him speak of you as highly as your wife could wish; and enough to give all your friends the jaundice. 6 "Yesterday I had a letter from Ali Pacha! brought by Dr. Holland, who is just returned from Albania. It is in Latin, and begins Excellentissime, nec non Carissime,' and ends about a gun he wants made for him; it is signed Ali Vizir.' What do you think he has been about? H. tells me that, last spring, he took a hostile town, where, forty-two years ago, his mother and sisters were treated as Miss Cunigunde was by the Bulgarian cavalry. He takes the town, selects all the surviv ors of this exploit-children, grandchildren, &c., to the tune of six hundred, aud has them shot before his face. Recollect, he spared the rest of the city, and confined himself to the Tarquin pedigree,— which is more than I would. So much for 'dearest friend.'"' LETTER CLXXIV. TO MR. MOORE. "Sept. 9, 1813. "I write to you from Murray's, and I may say, from Murray, who, if you are not predisposed in of the Mahoinmedan law, he ordered the girl to be sewed up in a sack, and favor of any other publisher, would be happy to thrown into the sea, -as is, indeed, quite customary at Constantinople. As treat with you, at a fitting time, for your work. I you were returning from bathing in the Piraus, you met the procession going can safely recommend him, as fair, liberal, and atdown to execute the sentence of the Waywods on this unfortunate girl. Retentive, and certainly, in point of reputation, he port continues to say, that on finding what the object of their journey was, stands among the first of the trade.' I am sure and who was the miserable sufferer, you immediately interfered; and on he would do you justice. I have written to you so the escort that force should make him comply;-that, on farther hesitation, much lately that you will be glad to see so little you drew a pistol, and told him, that if he did not immediately obey your now. Ever, &c., &c." orders, and come back with you to the Aga's house, you would shoot him dead. On this, the man turned about and went with you to the governor's house; here you succeeded, partly by personal threats, and partly by bribery and entreaty, to procure her pardon on condition of her leaving Athens. 1 was told that you then conveyed her in safety to the convent, and despatched her off at night to Thebes, where she found a safe asylum. Such is the story I heard, as nearly as I can recollect it at present. Should you wish to ask me any further questions about it, I shall be very ready and willing to answer them. "I remain, my dear Byron, "Yours, very sincerely, "SLIGO. LETTER CLXXV. TO MR. MOORE. "Sept. 27, 1813. "THOMAS MOORE, "(Thou wilt never be called 'true Thomas,' like "I am afraid you will hardly be able to read this scraw!; but I am so hur he of Ercildoune,) why don't you write to me?-as ried with the preparations for my journey, that you must excuse it." you won't, I must. I was near you at Aston the 44 other day and hope I soon shall be again. If so, "Saturday morn.-Your letter has cancelled af you must and shall meet me, and go to Matlock and my anxieties. I did not suspect you in earn elsewhere, and, take what, in flash dialect, is poeti-Modest again! Because I don't do a very shap cally termed a lark,' with Rogers and me for ac- thing, it seems, I don't fear your competition. complices. Yesterday, at Holland House, I was it were reduced to an alternative or preference, I introduced to Southey-the best looking bard I have should dread you, as much as Satan does Michael seen for some time. To have that poet's head and But is there not room enough in or respectin shoulders, I would almost have written his Sapphics. regions? Go on-it will soon be my turn to forgin He is certainly a prepossessing person to look on, To-day I dine with Mackintosh and Mrs. Stałoand a man of talent, and all that, and-there is his John Bull mey be pleased to denominate Corinne eulogy. whom I saw last night, at Covent Garden, yawning read me part of a letter from you. By the over the humor of Falstaff. foot of Pharoah, I believe there was abuse, for he "The reputation of gloom,' if one's friends a stopped short, so he did, after a fine saying about not included in the reputants, is of great serve our correspondence, and looked-I wish I could re- as it saves one from a legion of impertinents, in the venge myself by attacking you, or by telling you shape of common-place acquaintance. But the that I have had to defend you-an agreeable way knowest I can be a right merry and conceited fe which one's friends have of recommending them-low, and rarely larmoyant.' Murray shall reinstate selves, by saying,-Ay, ay, I gave it Mr. Such-a- your line forthwith. I believe the blunder in the one for what he said about your being a plagiary, motto was mine; and yet I have, in general, i and a rake, and so on.' But do you know that you memory for you, and am sure it was rightly printed are one of the very few whom I never have the satis- at first. faction of hearing abused, but the reverse ;-and do "I do blush' very often, if I may believe Ladies you suppose I will forgive that? H. and M.-but luckily at present, no one sees me Adieu." LETTER CLXXVII. TO MR. MOORE. "Nov. 30, 1913. "I have been in the country, and ran away from the Doncaster races. It is odd,-I was a visitor in the same house which came to my sire as a residence with Lady Carmarthen (with whom he adulterated before his majority-by-the-by, remember, she was not my mamma)-and they thrust me into an old room, with a nauseous picture over the chimney, which I should suppose my papa regarded with due respect, and which, inheriting the family "Since I last wrote to you, much has occurred. taste, I looked upon with great satisfaction. Igood, bad, and indifferent,-not to make me forget stayed a week with the family, and behaved very you, but to prevent me from reminding you of one well-though the lady of the house is young, and who, nevertheless, has often thought of you, and to religious, and pretty, and the master is my particu- whom your thoughts, in many a measure, have fre lar friend. I felt no wish for any thing but a poodle quently been a consolation. We were once very dog, which they kindly gave me. Now, for a man near neighbors this autumn; and a good and ba of my course, not even to have coveted is a sign of neighborhood it has proved to me. Suffice it to say, great amendment. Pray pardon all this nonsense, that your French quotation was confoundedly to th and don't snub me when I'm in spirits.' purpose,-though very unexpectedly pertinent, s you may imagine by what I said before, and my silence since. 6 ** However, Richard's himse again,' and, except all night and some part of the morning, I don't think very much about the matter. "Ever yours, "BN." "Here's an impromptu for you by a person of quality,' written last week, on being reproached for low spirits. "When from the heart where sorrow sits, &c. LETTER CLXXVI. TO MR. MOORE. "October 2, 1813. "All convulsions end with me in rhyme; and to solace my midnights, I have scribbled another Turk ish story+-not a Fragment-which you will receive • The motto to the Giaour, which is taken from one of the Irish Meläes, had been quoted by him incorrectly in the first editions of the Poem Fa made afterward a similar mistake in the lines from Burns prefixed to the Bride of Abydos. ↑ The Bride of Abydos. To this poem he made additions, in the course of "You have not answered some six letters of printing, amounting altogether to near two hundred lines; and the openiną mine. This, therefore, is my penultimate. I will lines, "Know ye the land," &c.,-supposed to have been suggested to ban write to you once more, but after that-I swear by by a song of Goethe's, were among the number of these new insertions, sa all the saints-I am silent and supercilious. I have &c. Having at first written the line in stanza vi., met Curran at Holland Housef-he beats every body-his imagination is beyond human, and his were also those verses, "Who hath not proved how feebly worde essay," "Mind on her lip and music in her face." humor (it is difficult to define what is wit) perfect. he afterward altered it to— "The mind of music breathing in her face," were I a woman, and eke a virgin, that is the man But, this not satisfying him, the next step of correction brought the line I should make my Scamander. He is quite fasci- what it is at present— nating. Remember, I have met him but once; and "The mind, the music breathing from her face." you, who have known him long, may probably de- The whole passage which follows- "Thou, my Zuleika, share and bless my bark,” He talked a great deal about you-a theme never was sent in successive scraps to the printer, correction following correction. The line." And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray," was originally tiresome to me, nor any body else that I know. What a variety of expression he conjures into that an airy naturally not very fine countenance of his! He "And tints to-morrow with a fancied ray,' absolutely changes it entirely. I have done for I the following note being annexed:-"Mr. Murray,-Choose which of the can't describe him, and you know him. On Sunday two epithets, fancied,' or 'airy,' may be the best; or, if neither wada, I return to, where I shall not be far from you. tell me, and I will dream another." In the long passage Just referred to, Perhaps I shall hear from you in the mean time. the six lines beginning "Blest as the Muezzin's strain," &c., having been Good night. despatched to the printer too late for insertion, were, by his desire, added an errata page; the first couplet, in its original form, being as follow"Soft as the Mecca-Muezzin's strains invite Him who hath journey'd far to join the rite.” • See Poems, p. 544. ↑ See Memorandums. |