"Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, "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 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,
When fast she dropt her tears, as thus she said:
"Farewell the youth whom sighs could not detain,
"Whom Zara's breaking heart implor'd in vain!
"Yet as thou go'st, may every blast arise
"Weak and unfelt as these rejected sighs!
"Safe o'er the wild, no perils mayst thou see,
"No griefs endure, nor weep, false youth, like me.”
O let me safely to the fair return,
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.
ABRA; OR, THE GEORGIAN SULTANA.
Scene, A FOREST.-Time, THE EVENING.
IN Georgia's land, where Tefflis' towers are seen,
In distant view along the level green,
While evening dews enrich the glittering glade,
And the tall forests cast a longer shade,
What time 'tis sweet o'er fields of rice to stray,
Or scent the breathing maize at setting day;
Amidst the maids of Zagen's peaceful grove,
Emyra sung the pleasing cares of love.
Of Abra first began the tender strain,
Who led her youth with flocks upon the plain:
At morn she came those willing flocks to lead,
Where lilies rear them in the watery mead;
From early dawn the live-long hours she told,
Till late at silent eve she penn'd the fold.
Deep in the grove, beneath the secret shade,
A various wreath of odorous flowers she made
Gay-motley'd pinks and sweet jonquils she chose,
The violet blue that on the moss-bank grows;
All-sweet to sense, the flaunting rose was there :
The finish'd chaplet well adorn'd her hair.
Great Abbas chanc'd that fated morn to stray,
By love conducted from the chace away;
Among the vocal vales he heard her song,
And sought the vales and echoing groves among :
At length he found, and woo'd the rural maid;
She knew the monarch, and with fear obey'd.
"Be every youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
"And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!"
The royal lover bore her from the plain ;
Yet still her crook and bleating flock remain :
Oft as she went, she backward turn'd her view,
And bad that crook and bleating flock adieu.
Fair happy maid! to other scenes remove,
To richer scenes of golden power and love!
Go leave the simple pipe, and shepherd's strain;
With love delight thee, and with Abbas reign.
"Be every youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
"And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd !"
Yet midst the blaze of courts she fix'd her love On the cool fountain, or the shady grove;
That these flowers are found in very great abundance in some of the provinces of Persia; see the modern history of Mr. Salmon.
Still with the shepherd's innocence her mind
To the sweet vale, and flowery mead inclin'd;
And oft as spring renew'd the plains with flowers,
Breath'd his soft gales, and led the fragrant hours,
With sure return she sought the sylvan scene,
The breezy mountains, and the forests green.
Her maids around her mov'd, a duteous band!
Each bore a crook all rural in her hand:
Some simple lay, of flocks and herds they sung;
With joy the mountain, and the forest rung.
"Be every youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
"And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!"
And oft the royal lover left the care
And thorns of state, attendant on the fair; Oft to the shades and low-roof'd cots retir'd, Or sought the vale where first his heart was fir'd: A russet mantle, like a swain, he wore, And thought of crowns and busy courts no more. "Be every youth like royal Abbas mov'd, "And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!"
Blest was the life that royal Abbas led :
Sweet was his love, and innocent his bed.
What if in wealth the noble maid excel;
The simple shepherd-girl can love as well.
Let those who rule on Persia's jewell'd throne,
Be fam'd for love, and gentlest love alone;
Or wreathe like Abbas, full of fair renown,
The lover's myrtle with the warrior's crown.
O happy days! the maids around her say;
O haste, profuse of blessings, haste away!
"Be every youth like royal Abbas mov'd;
"And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!"
AGIB AND SECANDER; OR, THE FUGITIVES.
Scene, A MOUNTAIN IN CIRCASSIA.—Time, MIDNIGHT.
IN fair Circassia, where, to love inclin'd,
Each swain was blest, for every maid was kind;
At that still hour, when awful midright reigns,
And none, but wretches, haunt the twilight plains;
What time the moon had hung her lamp on high,
And past in radiance thro' the cloudless sky;
Sad o'er the dews, two brother shepherds fled,
Where wildering fear and desperate sorrow led:
Fast as they prest their flight, behind them lay
Wide ravag'd plains, and vallies stole away.
Along the mountain's bending sides they ran,
'Till faint and weak Secander thus began:
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