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the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,
Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime? Know
the land of the cedar and vine, Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine; Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppressed with perfume, Wax faint o'er the gardens of gul in her bloom; Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, And the voice of the nightingale never is mute ; Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky, In colour though varied, in beauty may vie, And the purple of Ocean is deepest in die; Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine, And all, save the spirit of man, is divine? 'Tis the clime of the East; 'tis the land of the Sun Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done? 2 Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell.
Begirt with many a gallant slave,
Awaiting each his Lord's behest
Deep thought was in his aged cge ;
Not oft betrays to standers by
« Let the chamber be cleared. » The train disappeared
Now call me the chief of the Haram guard.»
And the Nubian awaiting the sire's award.
My child Zuleika's face unveiled !)
Hence, lead my daughter from the tower ; « Her fate is fixed this
hour : « Yet not to her repeat my thoughl;
By me alone be duty taught!»
« Pacha! 10 hear is to obey.
First lowly rendering reverence meet;
Still standing at the Pacha's feet:
* Father! for fear that thou should'st chide
My sister, or her sable guide, « Know, for the fault, if fault there be, « Was mine, they fall thy frowns on me; « So lovelily the morning shone,
« That-let the old and weary sleep« I could not; and to view alone
« The fairest scenes of land and deep, « With none to listen and reply « To thoughts with which my heart beat high « Were irksome-for whate'er
mood, « In sooth I love not solitude ; « I on Zuleika's slumber broke,
And, as thou knowest that for me « Soon turns the Haram's grating key, « Before the guardian slaves awoke « We to the cypress groves had flown, « And made earth, main, and heaven our own! « There lingered we, beguiled too long « With Mejnoun's tale, or Sadi's song; « Till I, who heard the deep tambour 4 - Beat thy Divan's approaching hour, « To thee and to my duty true, « Warned by the sound, to greet thee flew : « But there Zuleika wanders yet
Nay, father, rage not-nor forget « That none can pierce that secret bower « But those who watch the women's tower.»
« Son of a slave »--the Pacha said
Aught that beseems a man in thee.
Thou, when thine arm should bend the bow, « And hurl the dart, and curb the steed,
Thou, Greek in soul if not in creed, « Must pore where babbling waters flow, « And watch unfolding roses blow. « Would that yon orb, whose matin glow
Thy listless eyes so much admire, « Would lend thee something of his fire!
Tlou, who wouldst see this battlement
By Christian cannon piecemeal rent; « Nay, tamely view old Stambol's wall « Before the dogs of Moscow fall, « Nor strike one stroke for life and death
Against the curs of Nazareth ! « Go-let thy less than woman's hand « Assume the distaff-not the brand. « But, Haroun !--- to my daughter speed : « And hark- of thine own head take heed « If thus Zuleika oft takes wing« Thou see'st yon bow-it hath a string !»
No sound from Selim's lip was heard,
At least that met old Gjaffir's ear, But cvery frown and
word Pierced keener than a Christian's sword.
« Son of a slave ! -reproached with fear!
« Those gibes had cost another dear. « Son of a slave!-and who my sire ? »
Thus held his thoughts their dark career, And glances ev'n of more than ire
Flash forth, then faintly disappear. Old Giaffir gazed upon
And started; for within bis eye
« Come hither, boy-what, no reply?
That eye returned him glance for glance, And proudly to his sire's was raised,
Till Giaffir's quailed and shrunk askanceAnd why-he felt, but durst not tell. « Much I misdoubt this wayward boy « Will one day work me more annoy: « I never loved him from his birth, « And—but his arm is little worth, « And scarcely in the chase could cope « With timid fawn or antelope, « Far less would venture into strife « Where man contends for fame and life« I would not trust that look or tone: « No--nor the blood so near my own. « Tbat blood-he hath not heard« l'll watch him closer than before.
He is an Arabs to my sight, « Or Christian crouching in the fight« But hark ! -I hear Zuleika's voice;
« Like Houris' hymn it meets mine ear: « She is the offspring of my choice;
« 0! more than ev'n her mother dear,