For you those flowers her fragrant hands bestow; Boast but the worth Bassora's pearls display: Self-flattering sex! your hearts believe in vain Blest were the days when Wisdom held her reign, And shepherds sought her on the silent plain! With Truth she wedded in the secret grove; Immortal Truth; and daughters bless'd their love. -O haste, fair maids! ye Virtues, come away! Sweet Peace and Plenty lead you on your way! The balmy shrub for you shall love our shore, By Ind excell'd, or Araby, no more. Lost to our fields, for so the fates ordain, Come thou, whose thoughts as limpid springs are clear, Distrusting all;-a wise suspicious maid ; But man the most:-not more the mountain-doe Cold is her breast, like flowers that drink the dew; And Love the last: by these your hearts approve; Thus sung the swain; and ancient legends say ECLOGUE II. Hassan; or the Camel-driver. Scene, the Desert. IN silent horror o'er the boundless waste Ah! little thought I of the blasting wind, The thirst, or pinching hunger, that I find! Bethink thee, Hassan, where shall thirst assuage, When fails this cruise, his unrelenting rage? Soon shall this scrip its precious load resign; 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 springs in murmurs break away, Or moss-crown'd fountains mitigate the day, In vain ye hope the green delights to know Which plains more blest, or verdant vales, bestow: Here rocks alone, and tasteless sands, are found; And faint and sickly winds for ever howl around. "Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, "When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!" Curst be the gold and silver which persuade Weak men to follow far fatiguing trade! The lily peace outshines the silver store; 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 sea: And are we only yet repaid by thee? -Ah! why was ruin so attractive made? Or why fond man so easily betray'd? 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 side, 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, Oft in the dust I view his printed feet: At that dead hour the silent asp shall creep, If aught of rest I find, upon my sleep: Or some swoln serpent twist his scales around, And wake to anguish with a burning wound. Thrice happy they, the wise contented poor, From lust of wealth, and dread of death secure! 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 first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!" O hapless youth!-for she thy love hath, wonThe tender Zara will be most undone! Big swell'd my heart, and own'd the powerful maid, When fast she dropt her tears, as thus she said: "Farewell the youth whom sighs could not detain'; "Whom Zara's breaking heart implor'd in vain! "Yet, as thou go'st, may every blast arise "Weak and unfelt as these rejected sighs! "Safe o'er the wild, no perils may'st thou see, "No griefs endure; nor weep, false youth, like me." -O let me safely to the fair return; Say, with a kiss, she must not, shall not mourn; O! let me teach my heart to lose its fears, He said, and call'd on heaven to bless the day When back to Schiraz' walls he bent his way. ECLOGUE III. Abra; or, the Georgian Sultana. Scene, a Forest. Time, the Evening. IN Georgia's land, where Tefflis' towers are seen, While evening dews enrich the glittering glade, What time 'tis sweet o'er fields of rice to stray, Of Abra first began the tender strain, Who led her youth with flocks upon the plain: That these flowers are found in very great abundance in some of the provinces of Persia; see the Modern History of Mr. Salmon. |