55 Here make thy court amidst our rural scene, Distrusting all, a wise suspicious maid, But man the most :-not more the mountain doe Holds the swift falcon for her deadly foe. 60 Cold is her breast, like flowers that drink the dew; A silken veil conceals her from the view. 66 Thus sung the swain; and ancient legends say The maids of Bagdat verified the lay: 70 Dear to the plains, the Virtues came along, VARIATION. Ver. 69. Thus sung the swain, and eastern legends say ECLOGUE II. HASSAN; OR, THE CAMEL DRIVER. SCENE, The desert. TIME, Midday. IN silent horror o'er the boundless waste 5 To guard his shaded face from scorching sand. began: 9 Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, 'When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!' 1 VARIATION. Ver. 1. In silent horror o'er the desert waste Ah! little thought I of the blasting wind, 15 The thirst, or pinching hunger, that I find! Bethink thee, Hassan, where shall thirst assuage, When fails this cruise, his unrelenting rage? Soon shall this scrip its precious load resign; 19 Then what but tears and hunger shall be thine? 'Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear In all my griefs a more than equal share! Here, where no springs, in murmurs break away, Or moss-crown'd fountains mitigate the day, In vain ye hope the green delights to know, Which plains more blest, or verdant vales bestow : Here rocks alone, and tasteless sands, are found, And faint and sickly winds for ever howl around. 25 'Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, 29 • When first from Shiraz' walls I bent my way!' 35 'Curst be the gold and silver which persuade Why heed we not, whilst mad we haste along, 40 Or wherefore think the flowery mountain's side, The fountain's murmurs, and the valley's pride, Why think we these less pleasing to behold Than dreary deserts, if they lead to gold? 45 'Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, 'When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!' 49 54 'O cease, my fears!—all frantic as I go, When thought creates unnumber'd scenes of woe, What if the lion in his rage I meet!— Oft in the dust I view his printed feet: And, fearful! oft, when day's declining light Yields her pale empire to the mourner night, By hunger roused, he scours the groaning plain, Gaunt wolves and sullen tigers in his train : Before them Death with shrieks directs their way, Fills the wild yell, and leads them to their prey. 'Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, 59 'When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!' 'At that dead hour the silent asp shall creep, If aught of rest I find, upon my sleep: Or 65 some swoln serpent twist his scales around, And wake to anguish with a burning wound. Thrice happy they, the wise contented poor, From lust of wealth, and dread of death secure! They tempt no deserts, and no griefs they find; Peace rules the day, where reason rules the mind. 'Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, 'When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!' 'O hapless youth!-for she thy love hath won, The tender Zara will be most undone! Big swell'd my heart, and own'd the powerful maid, 79 Say, with a kiss, she must not, shall not mourn; O! let me teach my heart to lose its fears, Recall'd by Wisdom's voice, and Zara's tears.' He said, and call'd on heaven to bless the day, When back to Schiraz' walls he bent his way. 86 VARIATION. Ver. 83. Go, teach my heart to lose its painful fears. |