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What time the moon had hung her lamp on high,
And past in radiance through the cloudless sky;
Sad, o'er the dews, two brother shepherds fled
Where wildering fear and desperate sorrow led:
Fast as they prest their flight, behind them lay
Wide ravag'd plains; and vallies stole away:
Along the mountain's bending sides they ran,
Till, faint and weak, Secander thus began.

SECANDER.

O stay thee, Agib, for my feet deny, No longer friendly to my life, to fly.

Friend of my heart, O turn thee and survey! Trace our sad flight through all its length of way! And first review that long-extended plain,

And yon wide groves, already past with pain! Yon ragged cliff, whose dangerous path we tried! And, last, this lofty mountain's weary side!'

AGIB.

'Weak as thou art, yet, hapless, must thou know The toils of flight, or some severer wo!

Still, as I haste, the Tartar shouts behind;

And shrieks and sorrows load the saddening wind:

In

rage

of heart, with ruin in his hand,
He blasts our harvests, and deforms our land.
Yon citron grove, whence first in fear we came,
Droops its fair honours to the conquering flame:
Far fly the swains, like us, in deep despair,
And leave to ruffian bands their fleecy care.

SECANDER.

Unhappy land, whose blessings tempt the sword, In vain, unheard, thou call'st thy Persian lord! In vain thou court'st him, helpless, to thine aid, To shield the shepherd, and protect the maid! Far off, in thoughtless indolence resign'd, Soft dreams of love and pleasure sooth his mind: 'Midst fair sultanas lost in idle joy,

No wars alarm him, and no fears annoy."

AGIB.

Yet these green hills, in summer's sultry heat, Have lent the monarch oft a cool retreat. Sweet to the sight is Zabran's flowery plain; And once my maids and shepherds lov'd in vain! No more the virgins shall delight to rove By Sargis' banks, or Irwan's shady grove;

On Tarkie's mountain catch the cooling gale,

Or breathe the sweets of Aly's flowery vale:
Fair scenes! but, ah! no more with peace possest,
With ease alluring, and with plenty blest!
No more the shepherds whitening tents appear,
Nor the kind products of a bounteous year;
No more the date with snowy blossoms crown'd!
But ruin spreads her baleful fires around.'

SECANDER.

In vain Circassia boasts her spicy groves, For ever fam'd for pure and happy loves : In vain she boasts her fairest of the fair, Their eyes blue languish, and their golden hair! Those eyes in tears their fruitless grief must send; Those hairs the Tartars cruel hand shall rend."

AGIB.

'Ye Georgian swains, that piteous learn from far Circassia's ruin, and the waste of war;

Some weightier arms than crooks and staffs prepare,

To shield your harvest, and defend your fair :
The Turk and Tartar like designs pursue,

Fix'd to destroy, and stedfast to undo.

Wild as his land, in native deserts bred,
By lust incited, or by malice led,

The villain Arab, as he prowls for prey,

Oft marks with blood and wasting flames the
Yet none so cruel as the Tartar foe,

To death inur'd, and nurst in scenes of woe.'

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He said; when loud along the vale was heard A shriller shriek; and nearer fires appear'd: Th' affrighted shepherds, through the dews of night, Wide o'er the moon-light hills renew'd their flight.

ZERAD;

OR, THE ABSENT LOVER.

AN ARABIAN ECLOGUE.

[J. SCOTT.]

KORASA's tribe, a frequent wandering train
From Zenan's pastures sought Negiran's plain.
With them Semira left her favourite shades,
The loveliest nymph of Yemen's sportive maids!

Her parting hand her fair companions press'd;
A transient sorrow touch'd each tender breast!
As some thin cloud across the morning ray
Casts one short moment's gloom, and glides away:
Their cares, their sports, they hasted soon to tend,
And lost in them the memory of their friend.

But gallant Zerad ill her absence bore, A wealthy emir from Katara's shore ; A warrior he, the bravest of his race; A bard high-honour'd in his native place; Age oft learn'd knowledge from his tuneful tongue, And listening Beauty languish'd while he sung. What time the tribes in camp contiguous lay, Oft with the Fair-one he was wont to stray; There oft for her fresh fruits and flowers he sought, And oft her flocks to crystal fountains brought!

Where the tall palm-grove grac'd Alzobah's green, And sable tents in many a rank were seen; While Evening's steps the setting Sun pursued, And the still fields her balmy tears bedew'd; The pensive Lover, there reclin❜d apart, Indulg'd the sorrows of his anxious heart. His graceful head the costly turban dress'd; The crimson sash confin'd his azure vest:

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