Sighs in the hall, and shrieks upon the gale,

Tell him thy tale!
Thou didst not view thy Selim fall!

1115 That fearful moment when he left the cave

Thy heart grew chill: He was thy hope—thy joy-thy love-thine allAnd that last thought on him thou could'st not save Sufficed to kill :

1120 Burst forth in one wild cry-and all was still.

Peace to thy broken heart, and virgin grave! Ah! happy! but of life to lose the worst! That grief—though deep-though fatal-was thy first! Thrice happy! ne'er to feel nor fear the force 1125 Of absence, shame, pride, hate, revenge, remorse! And oh! that pang where more than Madness lies! The worm that will not sleep-and never dies; Thought of the gloomy day and ghastly night, 1129 That dreads the darkness, and yet loathes the light, That winds around, and tears the quivering heart! Ah! wherefore not consume it-and depart!

Wo to thee, rash and unrelenting chief!

Vainly thou heap'st the dust upon thy head,
Vainly the sackcloth o'er thy limbs dost spread :

By that same hand Abdallah-Selim bled. 1136
Now let it tear thy beard in idle grief:
Tby pride of heart, thy bride for Osman's bed,
She, whom thy sultan had but seen to wed,
• VOL. II.

Thy Daughter's dead!

1140 Hope of thine age, thy twilight's lonely beam,

The Star hath set that shone on Helle's stream. What quench'd its ray?—the blood that thou hast shed! Hark! to the hurried question of Despair 1144 Where is my child ?" an Echo answers" -Where?” (42)

XXXVIII. Within the place of thousand tombs

That shine beneath, while dark above The sad but living cypress glooms

And withers not, though branch and leaf Are stamp'd with an eternal grief,

· 1150 Like early unrequited love, One spot exists, which ever blooms,

Ev’n in that deadly grove-
A single rose is shedding there
Its lonely lustre, meek and pale:

1155 It looks as planted by Despair

So white-so faint-the slightest gale Might whirl the leaves on high;

And yet, though storms and blight assail, And hands more rude than wintry sky 1160 May wring it from the stem-in vain

To-morrow sees it bloom again! The stalk some spirit gently rears, And waters with celestial tears;

For well may maids of Helle deem

1165

1170

That this can be no earthly flower,
Which mocks the tempest's withering hour,
And buds unshelter'd by a bower ;
Nor droops, though spring refuse her shower,

Nor woos the summer beam:
To it the livelong night there sings

A bird unseen-but not remote :
Invisible his airy wings,
But soft as harp that Houri strings
His long entrancing note!

1175 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,
'Tis sorrow so unmix'd with dread,
They scarce can bear the morn to break

That melancholy spell,
And longer yet would weep and wake, 1185

He sings so wild and well! But when the day-blush bursts from high Expires that magic melody. And some have been who could believe, (So fondly youthful dreams deceive, 1190

Yet harsh be they that blame) That note so piercing and profound Will shape and syllable its sound

Into Zuleika's name. (43)

1180

'Tis from her eypress' summit heard, 1195
That melts in air the liquid word:
Tis from her lowly virgin earth
That white rose takes its tender birth.
There late was laid a marble stone;
Eve saw it placed-the Morrow gone! 1200
It was no mortal arm that bore
That deep-fix'd pillar to the shore;
For there, as Helle's legends tell,
Next morn 'twas found where Selim fell;
Lash'd by the tumbling tide, whose wave 1205
Denied his bones a holier grave:
And there by night, reclined, 'tis said,
Is seen a ghastly turban'd head:
And hence extended by the billow,
"Tis named the "Pirate-phantom's pillow !" 1910
Where first it lay that mourning flower

Hath flourishd; flourisheth this hour,
Alone and dewy, coldly pure and pale;
As weeping Beauty's cheek at Borman

Note 2, page 9, line 17.
Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done!

"Souls made of fire and children of the Sun,
"With whom Revenge is Virtue.”

Young's REVENGE.

Note 3, page 12, line 2.

With Mejnoun's tale, or Sadi's song. Mejnoun and Leila, the Romeo and Juliet of the East. Sadi, the moral poet of Persia.

Note 4, page 12, line 3.

Till I, who heard the deep tambour. Tambour, Turkish drum, which sounds at sunrise, noon, and twilight.

Note 5, page 14, line 21.

He is an Arab to my sight. The Turks abhor the Arabs (who return the compli