There is something very unnatural, and to us very disgusting, in this affection, half pure, half sensual, of Zuleika's; and the declaration of it at p. 20, is particularly offensive. At night she goes to the appointed grotto in the garden, and finds her quondam brother, her present lover, in the disguise of a sailor's dress. From him she learns, that her father Giaffir, and his father, Abdallah, were brothers, and that Abdallah had been poisoned by the order of Giatir, for the sake of his Pachalick. Himself, then a child, was spared, in some fit of remorse or natural feeling, and with him Haroun, a haram guard. Bred up, however, as Giaffir's son, he was yet jealously watched, confined in the palace, and debarred all manly exercises and accomplishments. But once, in the absence of Giaffir, Haroun had permitted him to wander forth upon his parole; and he had joined the pirates that infested the islands of the Archipelago. To these he was purposing to return; a boat was waiting to carry him off, and he invites Zuleika to share with him in this blessed state of liberty. Just, however, as they are going off, they are surprized by flambeaux and all the signs of pursuit: he fires a pistol, as a signal to the boat; the boat appears, and he has fought his way to it, and is just stepping into it, when a bullet, from the carbine of Giaffir, lays him dead upon the beach. Zuleika had fainted and died, when her lover left the cave. Such is the story which is very spiritedly told by Lord Byron, though, we think, with not quite so much strength of poetry, as is to be found in the Romaunt,' or the Giaour. There are, however, very beautiful passages to be quoted. The opening of the poem contains a rich description of eastern landscape, though we could have wished that the images in the four first lines had given place to others less finical and unnatural. Indeed, the lines might be advantageously struck out. Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime, Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine, Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, Ahd 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, 'Tis the clime of the east-'tis the land of the Sun-' p. l. We may add to this, the effect of such scenery on a youthful and susceptible mind. "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, "To thoughts with which my heart beat high "I on Zuleika's slumber broke, "And, as thou knowest that for me Before the guardian slaves awoke "We to the cypress groves had flown, "And made earth, main, and heaven our own!"' p. 4. • « "Tis vain-my tongue can not impart "My almost drunkenness of heart, "Surveyed Earth-Ocean-Sun and Sky! "The World-nay-Heaven itself was mine!"" P. 42. The most spirited part of the poem, however, is the conclusion. The death of Selim is brought immediately beneath the eye of the reader. But ere her lip, or even her eye, "Oh! fly-no more-yet now my more than brother!" Far-wide through every thicket spread • Dauntless he stood-" "Tis come-soon past— "But yet my band not far from shore His pistol's echo rang on high, pp. 49-50. The foremost of the prying band A gasping head, a quivering trunk; And almost met the meeting wave; The desolation and distress disclosed by the dawning light are painted in the author's strongest manner. • Morn slowly rolls the clouds away- That strand of strife may bear- 'Tis rent in twain-one dark-red stain Ye! who would o'er his relics weep And cast on Lemnos' shore: The sea-birds shriek above the prey, As shaken on his restless pillow, That hand-whose motion is not life- What recks it? though that corse shall lie We think the reader will agree with us that the wild versification of the following passage is admirably fitted to the mournful subject. By Helle's stream there is a voice of wail! Thy destin'd lord is come too late- The loud Wul-wulleh warn his distant ear? Thou didst not view thy Selim fall! That fearful moment when he left the cave He was thy hope thy joy-thy love-thine all- Burst forth in one wild cry-and all was still Peace to thy broken heart-and virgin grave!' p. 55-6 The conclusion is very pleasing and romantic. A single rose, says the poet, flourishes by the tomb of the lovely Zuleika; and near it, every night, is heard a bird unseen.' 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 unmixed with dread, They scarce can bear the morn to break And longer yet would weep and wake, But when the day-blush bursts from high Expires that magic melody. And some have been who could believe, (So fondly youthful dreams deceive Yet harsh be they that blame,) That note so piercing and profound 'Tis from her cypress' summit heard, 'Tis named the "Pirate-phantom's pillow !" As weeping Beauty's cheek at Sorrow's tale!' pp. 58-60. We must not close without just noticing the frequent embarrassment and complication of the author's style. The reader will have seen something of it in the passages already quoted; it appears to proceed from haste. How ungram-. matical, ungraceful, and obscure are the following passages! "Pacha! to hear is to obey.—" No more must slave to despot say- Father!-for fear that thou should'st chide "Know-for the fault, if fault there be, "Was mine-then fall thy frowns on me!' p. 3. Till on the smoother pathway treading, The maid pursued her silent guide;' p. 30, Every thing that in any way impedes the progress of the reader, helps to destroy the effect of the passage. The spiritedness of Scott is never lost by a want of intelligibility, that of Campbell is but too frequently. |