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Know ye 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 ye the land of the cedar and vine, Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine ? Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppressed with per
fume, 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 sunCan 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
The first fifteen lines belong to one question, which terminates in the rising inflection. Though connected, they are divided into different portions, as if they were separate questions, to each of which the rising inflection may be applied, but not so decidedly as to the last. The portions to which we allude are clime, crime, shine, bloom, mute, die, and the final inflection, divine.
Description of Eastern Troops preparing for Battle,
in which of course some of the Manners and Customs of the East appear.
The night is past, and shines the sun
Lightly and brightly breaks away
sword From its sheath ; and they form, and but wait for
Alla Hu, the war-cry of the followers of Mahomet. It will appear from the Rhyme, which is really the case, that they give a long accent or emphasis to the last syllable.
The Negro's Complaint.
Forc'p from home, and all its pleasures,
Afric's coast I left forlorn ;
O'er the raging billows borne.
Men from England bought and sold me;
Paid my price in paltry gold: But though slave they have enroll'd me,
Minds are never to be sold. Still in thought as free as ever,
What are England's rights, I ask, Me, from my delights to sever,
Me to torture, me to task ? Fleecy locks and black complexion
Cannot forfeit Nature's claim ; Skins
may differ, but affection Dwells in white and black the same. Why did all-creating Nature
Make the plant for which we toil ? Sighs must fan it, tears must water,
Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters, iron-hearted,
Lolling at your jovial boards; Think how many backs have smarted
For the sweets your cane affords. Is there, as ye sometimes tell us,
Is there One who reigns on high? Has he bid you buy and sell us,
Speaking from his throne the sky ? Ask him, if your knotted scourges,
Matches, blood-extorting screws,
Agents of His will to use?
Strewing yonder sea with wrecks;
Are the voice with which he speaks. He, foreseeing what vexations
Afric's sons should undergo, Fix'd their tyrants' habitations
Where his whirlwinds answer-No. By our blood in Afric wasted,
Ere our necks received the chain ;
By the miseries that we tasted,
Crossing in your barks the main :
To the man-degrading mart;
Only by a broken heart !
Till some reason ye shall find
Than the colour of our kind.
We should think the Negro would make is there emphatic, and thus lead high to the downward slide.
War Song for the Greeks.
This day shall you blush for its story,
[hair? If a coward there be that would slacken Till we've trampled the turban, and shown ourselves
worth Being sprung from and named for the god-like of Strike home and the world shall revere us, [earth. As heroes decended from heroes. Old Greece lightens up with emotion Her inlands, her isles of the ocean ; Fanes rebuilt, and fair towns shall with jubilee ring And the Nine shall new-hallow their Helicon's spring : Our hearths shall be kindled with gladness, That were cold and extinguish'd in sadness;
Whilst our maidens shall dance with their white.
waving arıns, Singing joy to the brave that deliver'd their charms, When the blood of
Mussulman cravens Shall have purpled the beaks of our ravens.
Lament of Tasso.*
I once was quick in feeling--that is o'er ;-
* A famous poet of Italy, who rather imprudently declared his love to Leonora, the lady mentioned in this extract, sister to Alphonso II. Enraged at this, Alphonso pretended that Tasso's conduct proceeded from madness, and therefore confined bim in the hospital of St. Anne, a receptacle for lunatics at Ferrara; . from which, after seven years confinement, he was released by means of the Prince of Mantua.