THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS. CANTO THE FIRST. I. KNOW ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Know ye the land of the cedar and vine, Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine; Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, 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 dye; 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?+ Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell. II. Begirt with many a gallant slave, Deep thought was in his aged eye; The mind within, well skill'd to hide His pensive cheek and pondering brow * "Gúl," the rose. "Souls made of fire, and children of the Sun, YOUNG'S "REVENGE." III. "Let the chamber be clear'd."-The train disappear'd- And the Nubian awaiting the sire's award. "Father! for fear that thou shouldst chide Know-for the fault, if fault there be, 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 my 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! Warn'd by the sound, to greet thee flew : Nay, father, rage not-nor forget That none can pierce that secret bower But those who watch the women's tower." * Mejnoun and Leila, the Romeo and Juliet of the East. Sadi, the moral poet of Persia. "Tambour," Turkish drum, which sounds at sunrise, noon, and twilight. IV. "Son of a slave "-the Pacha said— Thou, when thine arm should bend the bow, Nor strike one stroke for life and death Go-let thy less than woman's hand Thou see'st yon bow-it hath a string!" V. No sound from Selim's lip was heard, But every frown and every word 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 his son And started; for within his eye He read how much his wrath had done; "Come hither, boy-what, no reply? As sneeringly these accents fell, That eye return'd him glance for glance, And proudly to his sire's was raised, Till Giaffir's quail'd and shrunk askance― And why-he felt, but durst not tell. Far less would venture into strife I would not trust that look or tone: That blood-he hath not heard-no more- Or Christian crouching in the fight- Like Houris' hymn it meets mine ear: Oh! more than ev'n her mother dear, Such to my longing sight art thou; Who blest thy birth, and bless thee now." VI. Fair, as the first that fell of womankind, When on that dread yet lovely serpent smiling, To Sorrow's phantom-peopled slumber given, And paints the lost on Earth revived in Heaven; Pure, as the prayer which Childhood wafts above; Who hath not proved how feebly words essay * The Turks abhor the Arabs (who return the compliment a hundred-fold) even more than they hate the Christians. |