XXVIII. Within the place of thousand tombs And withers not, though branch and leaf Its lonely lustre, meek and pale: And yet, though storms and blight assail, For well may maids of Helle deem Nor droops, though spring refuse her shower, To it the livelong night there sings A bird unseen- -but not remote: Invisible his airy wings, But soft as harp that Houri strings known as to render a reference almost superfluous; but to whose pages all will be delighted to recur. His long entrancing note! It were the Bulbul; but his throat, Though mournful, pours not such a strain; For they who listen cannot leave The spot, but linger there and grieve, As if they loved in vain! And yet so sweet the tears they shed, They scarce can bear the morn to break And longer yet would weep and wake, But when the day-blush bursts from high And some have been who could believe, That note so piercing and profound (1)" And airy tongues that syllable men's names." MILTON. For a belief that the 'souls of the dead inhabit the form of birds, we need not travel to the East. Lord Lyttleton's ghost story, the belief of the Duchess of Kendal, that George I. flew into her window in the shape of a raven (see Orford's Reminiscences), and many other instances, bring this superstition nearer home. The most singular was the whim of a Worcester lady, who, believing her daughter to exist in the shape of a singing bird, literally furnished her pew in the cathedral with cages full of the kind; and as she was rich, and a benefactress in beautifying the church, no objection was made to her harmless folly. For this anecdote, see Orford's Letters. (2) [The heroine of this poem, the blooming Zuleika, is all purity and loveliness. Never was a faultless character more delicately or more justly delineated. Her piety, her intelligence, her strict sense of duty, and her undeviating love of truth, appear to have been originally blended in her mind, rather than inculcated by education. She is always natural, always 'Tis from her cypress summit heard, That white rose takes its tender birth. Next morn 'twas found where Selim fell; And hence extended by the billow, As weeping Beauty's cheek at Sorrow's tale! (1) attractive, always affectionate; and it must be admitted that her affections are not unworthily bestowed. Selim, while an orphan and dependant, is never degraded by calamity; when better hopes are presented to him, his buoyant spirit rises with his expectations: he is enterprising, with no more rashness than becomes his youth'; and when disappointed in the success of a well-concerted project, he meets, with intrepidity, the fate to which he is exposed through his own generous forbearance. To us, "The Bride of Abydos" appears to be, in every respect, superior to "The Giaour," though, in point of diction, it has been, perhaps, less warmly admired. We will not argue this point, but will simply observe, that what is read with ease is generally read with rapidity; and that many beauties of style which escape observation in a simple and connected narrative, would be forced on the reader's attention by abrupt and perplexing transitions. is only when a traveller is obliged to stop on his journey, that he is disposed to examine and admire the prospect. — GEORGE Ellis.] It (1) ["The Bride,' such as it is, is my first entire composition of any length (except the Satire, and be d-d to it), for the Giaour' is but a string of passages, and 'Childe Harold' is, and I rather think always will be, unconcluded." It was published on Thursday, the 2d of December; but how it is liked, I know not. Whether it succeeds or not, is no fault of 'the public, against whom I can have no complaint. But I am much more indebted to the tale than I can ever be to the most important reader; as it wrung my thoughts from reality to imagination; from selfish regrets to vivid recollections; and recalled me to a country replete with the brightest and darkest, but always most lively colours of my memory."- B. Diary, Dec. 5. 1813.-E.] THE CORSAIR, A TALE. (1) I suoi pensieri in lui dormir non ponno." (1) ["The Corsair" was begun on the 18th, and finished on the 31st, of December, 1813; a rapidity of composition which, taking into consideration the extraordinary beauty of the poem, is, perhaps, unparalleled in the literary history of the country. Lord Byron states it to have been written " con amore, and very much from existence." In the original MS. the chief female character was called Francesca, in whose person the author meant to delineate one of his acquaintance; but, while the work was at press, he changed the name to Medora.-E.] |