Bethink thee, Haffan, where fhall Thirst affwage,
When fails this cruife, his unrelenting rage?
Soon fhall this fcrip its precious load refign;
Then what but tears and hunger shall be thine?
Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear,
In all my griefs, a more than equal share!
Here, where no fprings in murmurs break away,
Or mofs-crown'd fountains mitigate the day,
In vain ye hope the green delights to know,
Which plains more bleft, or verdant vales, beflow:
Here rocks alone, and tastelefs fands, are found,
And faint and fickly winds for ever howl around.

"Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
When firft from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!"
Curft be the gold and filver, which perfuade
Weak men to follow far-fatiguing trade!
'The lilly peace outfhines the filver ftore,
And life 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 fea:
And are we only yet repair'd by thee?
Ah! why was ruin fo attractive made,
Or why fond man fo eafily betray'd?

Why heed we not, while, mad, we hafte along,
The gentle voice of Peace, or Pleasure's fong?
Or wherefore think the flowery mountain's fide,
The fountain's murmurs, and the valley's pride;
Why think we these lefs pleafing to behold,
Than dreary deferts, if they lead to gold?.

"Sad

"Sad was the hour, and lucklefs 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 fcenes of woe:
What if the lion in his rage I meet!-

Oft, in the duft, 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 fcours the groaning plain,
Gaunt wolves and fullen tygers in his train:
Before them death with fhrieks directs their way,
Fills the wild yell, and leads them to their prey.

"Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
When firft from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!"
At that dead hour the filent asp shall creep,
If aught of reft I find, upon my fleep:
Or fome fwol'n ferpent twist his scales around,
And wake to anguish with a burning wound.
Thrice happy they, the wife, contented poor,
From luft of wealth, and dread of death, fecure!
They tempt no deferts, and no griefs they find;
Peace rules the day, where Reason rules the mind.
"Sad was the hour, and lucklefs was the day,
When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!"
O hapless youth! for fhe thy love hath won,
The tender Zara, will be most undone ;
Big fwell'd my heart, and own'd the powerful maid,
When fast she dropt her tears, as thus fhe faid:
"Farewell the youth whom fighs could not detain,
Whom Zara's breaking heart implor'd in vain!

Yet, as thou go'ft, may ev'ry blast arise
Weak and unfelt as thefe rejected fighs!
Safe o'er the wild, no perils may'ft thou fee,
No griefs endure, nor weep, falfe youth, like me."
O let me fafely to the fair return,

Say, with a kifs, fhe must not, fhall not mourn ;
O! let me teach my heart to lofe its fears,
Recall'd by Wisdom's voice, and Zara's tears.
He faid, and call'd on Heav'n to bless the day,
When back to Schiraz' walls he bent his way.

ECLOGUE

IN Georgia's land, where Tefflis' towers are seen,

In diftant view along the level green,

While evening dews enrich the glittering glade,
And the tall forefts caft a longer fhade,

What time 'tis fweet o'er fields of rice to ftray,
Or fcent the breathing maize at fetting day;
Amidst the maids of Zagen's peaceful grove,
Emyra fung the pleafing cares of love.

Of Abra, firft, began the tender strain,
Who led her youth with flocks upon the plain :
At morn she came thofe willing flocks to lead,
Where lillies rear them in the watery mead;
From early dawn the live-long hours she told,
Till, late at filent eve, fhe penn'd the fold.
Deep in the grove, beneath the fecret fhade,
A various wreath of odorous flowers fhe made:

• Gay-motley'd pinks, and sweet jonquils, fhe chofe,
The violet blue that on the mofs-bank grows:
All sweet to sense, the flaunting rose was there :
The finish'd chaplet well adorn'd her hair.

Great Abbas chanc'd that fated morn to stray,
By love conducted from the chace away;
Among the vocal vales he heard her song,
And fought the vales and echoing groves among :
At length he found, and woo'd the rural maid;
She knew the monarch, and, with fear, obey'd.

"Be every youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!
The royal lover bore her from the plain;
Yet ftill her crook and bleating flock remain:
Oft, as she went, fhe backward turn'd her view,
And bad that crook and bleating flock adieu.
Fair happy maid! to other fcenes remove,
To richer scenes of golden power and love!
Go, leave the fimple pipe, and fhepherd's ftrain :
With love delight thee, and with Abbas reign.

"Be every youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!"
Yet, midft the blaze of courts, the fix'd her love
On the cool fountain, or the fhady grove;
Still, with the fhepherd's innocence, her mind
To the fweet vale, and flowery mead, inclin'd:
And, oft as fpring renew'd the plains with flowers,
Breath'd his foft gales, and led the fragrant hours,

*That these flowers are found in very great abundance in fome of the provinces of Perfia; fee the Modern History of Mr. Salmon.