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Then, then, while all those nameless ties,
In which the charm of Country lies,
Had round our hearts been hourly spun,
Till Iran's cause and thine were one;
While in thy lute's awakening sigh
I heard the voice of days gone by,
And saw, in every smile of thine
Returning hours of glory shine!-
While the wrong'd Spirit of our Land

Liv’d, look’d, and spoke her wrongs through thee,God! who could then this sword withstand ?

Its very flash were victory !
But now—estrang’d, divorc'd for ever
Far as the grasp of Fate can sever;
Our only ties what love has wove, —

In faith, friends, country, sunder'd wide:-
And then, then only, true to love,

When false to all that's dear beside!
Thy father Iran's deadliest foe-
Thyself, perhaps, e'en now-but no-
Hate never look’d so lovely yet!

No-sacred to thy soul will be
The land of him who could forget

All but that bleeding land for thee! When other eyes shall see, unmoved,

Her widows mourn, her warriors fall, Thou'lt think how well one Gheber lov’d,

And for his sake thou'lt weep for all ! But look

With sudden start he turn'd
And pointed to the distant wave,
Where lights, like charnel meteors, burn'd

Bluely, as o'er some seaman's grave;

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And fiery darts, at intervals,

Flew up all sparkling from the main, As if each star that nightly falls,

Were shooting back to heaven again.

“My signal-lights !-I must away-
Both, both are ruin'd if I stay.
Farewell—sweet life ! thou cling'st in vain
Now-Vengeance,-I am thine again.”
Fiercely he broke away nor stopp'd,
Nor look'd—but from the lattice dropp'd
Down 'mid the pointed crags beneath,
As if he fled from love to death.
While pale and mute young Hinda stood,
Nor moved, till in the silent flood
A momentary plunge below
Startled her from her trance of woe ;-
Shrieking she to the lattice flew,

"I come I comeif in that tide Thou sleep'st to-night--I'll sleep there too,

In death's cold wedlock, by thy side. Oh! I would ask no happier bed

Than the chill wave my love lies under ;Sweeter to rest together dead,

Far sweeter, than to live asunder ! ” But no-their hour is not yet come

Again she sees his pinnace fly, Wafting him fleetly to his home,

Where'er that ill-starr'd home may lie; And calm and smooth it seem'd to win

Its moonlight way before the wind, As if it bore all peace within,

Nor left one breaking heart behind !

NOTES

TO POEMS BY THOMAS MOORE.

I "The Mahometans suppose that falling stars are the fire. brands wherewith the good angels drive away the bad, when they approach too near the verge of the heavens.”—Fryer.

2 The Forty Pillars; so the Persians call the ruins of Persepolis. It is imagined by them that this palace, and the edifices at Balbec, were built by genii, for the purpose of hiding in their subterraneous caverns immense treasures, which still remain there.-D'Herbelot, Volney. 3

The Isles of Panchaia. 4 The

cup of Jamshid, discovered, they say, when digging for the foundations of Persepolis.”—Richardson.

5 The Temple of the Sun at Balbec.

6 The Country of Delight-the name of a province in the kingdom of Jinnistan, or Fairy Land, the capital of which is called the City of Jewels. Amberabad is another of the cities of Jinnistan.

7 The tree Tooba, that stands in Paradise in the palace of Mahomet.-Sale's Prelim. Disc.—"Tooba,” says D'Herbelot, signifies beatitude, or eternal happiness."

8 Mahomet is described, in the 53rd chapter of the Koran, as having seen the angel Gabriel " by the lote-tree, beyond which there is passing : near it is the Garden of Eternal Abode.” This tree, say the commentators, stands in the seventh heaven, on the right hand of the Throne of God.

9 “The Ghebers lay so much stress on their cushee or girdle, as not to dare to be an instant without it.”—Grose's Voyage.

10 “The Mameluks, when it was dark used to shoot up a sort of fiery arrow into the air, which in some measure resembled lightning or falling stars.”-Baumgarten.

Ebenezer Elliott.

1781—1849.

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Most, if not all, of the progressive movements of the nineteenth century, have found expression in literature and voice in song. Ebenezer Elliott, known as the “Corn Law Rhymer,” may be said to have been the earliest of the political poets of the people, and his “Corn Law Rhymes ” may be regarded as the literary progenitors of the “Songs of Democracy” of Ernest Jones, the “Songs of the Governing Classes' of Robert Brough, if not of the “Songs for Socialists” of William Morris. That Elliott was more than a political poet is undoubtedly true, and that he suffered as a poet from his devotion to political causes is also clear ; but this was because the extreme sensibility which made him a poet of nature, made him also a man of the people, and carried him beyond the line of beauty in his scorn of social selfishness and his denunciation of political wrong. Born at Masborough, in Yorkshire, in 1781, Ebenezer Elliott became early accustomed to the poverty and privation common to the labouring classes of his time. His father was a clerk in an ironworks, with an income of £70 a year, a sum which proved, alas ! insufficient to keep him out of bankruptcy; and the poet had to depend upon himself for all education beyond that afforded by the national school. Though, according to his own account, a dull scholar, he early acquired an

an

intelligent knowledge and love of nature, and applied himself to the study of botany with affectionate zeal.

Thomson's “Seasons,” which is credited with the inspiration of John Clare, Robert Bloomfield, and many other nature poets, first "fired his vocal rage,” and his earliest attempt at versification was imitation in rhyme of Thomson's “Thunderstorm.” This induced the studying of other poets, and Barrow, Young, Shenstone, and Milton became his constant companions. His first published poem, "The Vernal Walk," was written about 1797-8, the period of the " Lyrical Ballads” of Wordsworth and Coleridge, and the "Farmer's Boy” of Robert Bloomfield. This was followed by a long period of silence occasioned by his devotion to business. A partnership in a Rotherham firm proved a failure, and in 1821 the poet borrowed some capital and started as an ironworker in Sheffield, a venture which was crowned with success. In 1823 appeared “Love,” a poem, which was followed, about 1827, by “The Ranter," the first of his political poems-again issued, bound up with the “Corn Law Rhymes," in the following year. His next work, “The Village Patriarch,” was published in 1829. These later works attracted considerable notice. Southey, always ready to hold out a helping hand to struggling talent, became a friend, and Dr. Bowring brought the “Rhymer” under the notice of Wordsworth and Bulwer. This introduction proved of great service to the poet, Bulwer opening to him the columns of the New Monthly Magazine, in which he soon distinguished himself as an original and powerful writer. In 1838 he took part in the organisation of the Chartist movement, from which however he

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