recovered, and whose very praises were like the honey extracted from the bitter flowers of the aloe. The chief personages of the story were, if he rightly understood them, an ill-favoured gentleman, with a veil over his face; a young lady, whose reason went and came, according as it suited the poet's convenience to be sensible or otherwise; and a youth in one of those hideous Bucharian bonnets, who took the aforesaid gentleman in a veil for a Divinity. "From such materials," said he, "what can be expected?-after rivalling each other in long speeches and absurdities, through some thousands of lines as indigestible as the filberts of Berdaa, our friend in the veil jumps into a tub of aquafortis; the young lady dies in a set speech, whose only recommendation is that it is her last; and the lover lives on to a good old age, for the laudable purpose of seeing her ghost, which he at fast happily accomplishes, and expires. This, you will allow, is a fair summary of the story; and if Nasser, the Arabian merchant, told no better, our Holy Prophet (to whom be all honour and glory!) had no need to be jealous of his abilities for story-telling."*

With respect to the style, it was worthy of the matter; -it had not even those politic contrivances of structure, which make up for the commonness of the thoughts by the peculiarity of the manner, nor that stately poetical phraseology by which sentiments mean in themselves, like the blacksmith'st apron converted into a banner, are so easily gut and embroidered into consequence. Then, as to the versification, it was, to say no worse of it, execrable: it had neither the copious flow of Ferdosi, the sweetness of Hafez, nor the sententious march of Sadi; but appeared to him, in the uneasy heaviness of its movements, to have been modelled upon the gait of a very tired dromedary. The licenses, too, in which it indulg. ed, were unpardonable ;—for instance this line, and the poem abounded with such ;

Like the faint, exquisite music of a dream.

"What critic that can count," said FADLADEEN, "and has his full complement of fingers to count withal, would tolerate for an instant such syllabic superfluities ?"He here looked round, and discovered that most of his audience were asleep; while the glimmering lamps seemed inclined to follow their example. It became necessa. ry, therefore, however painful to himself, to put an end to his valuable animadversions for the present, and he accordingly concluded, with an air of dignified candour, thus:- Notwithstanding the observations which I have thought it my duty to make, it is by no means my wish to discourage the young man :-so far from it, indeed, that if he will but totally alter his style of writing and thinking, I have very little doubt that I shall be vastly pleased with him.”

Some days elapsed, after this harangue of the Great

Chamberlain, before LALLA ROOKн could venture to ask for another story. The youth was still a welcome guest in the pavilion-to one heart, perhaps, too dangerously welcome;-but all mention of poetry was, as if by common consent, avoided. Though none of the party had much respect for FADLADEEN, yet his censures, thus magisterially delivered, evidently made an impression on them all. The Poet, himself, to whom criticism was quite a new operation, being wholly unknown in that Paradise of the Indies, Cashmere,) felt the shock as it is generally felt at first, till use has made it more tolerable to the patient; the Ladies began to suspect that they ought not to be pleased, and seemed to conclude that there must have been much good sense in what FADLA. DEEN said, from its having set them all so soundly to sleep; while the self-complacent Chamberlain was left to triumph in the idea of having, for the hundred and fiftieth time in his life, extinguished a Poet. LALLA ROOKн alone-and Love knew why-persisted in being delighted with all she had heard, and in resolving to hear

"La lecture de ces Fables plaisoit si fort aux Arabes, que, quand Mahomet les entretenoit de l'Histoire de l'Ancien Testament, ils les méprisoient, lui disant que celles que Nasser leur racontoient étoient beaucoup plus belles. Cette préférence attira à Nasser la malédiction de Malonet et de tous ses disciples "--D'Herbelot.

The blacksmith Gao, who successfully resisted the tyrant Zohak, and whose apr. became the Royal Standard of Persia.

more as speedily as possible. Her manner, however, of first returning to the subject was unlucky. It was while they rested during the heat of noon near a fountain, on which some hand had rudely traced those well-known words from the Garden of Sadi,-" Many, like me, have || view:d this fountain, but they are gone, and their eyes are closed forever!"-that she took occasion, from the melancholy beauty of this passage, to dwell upon the charms of poetry in general. "It is true," she said, "few poets can imitate that sublime bird, which flies always in the air, and never touches the earth :*-it is only once in many ages a Genius appears, whose words, like those on the Written Mountain, last forever:t-but still there are some as delightful, perhaps, though not so wonderful, who, if not stars over our head, are at least flowers along our path, and whose sweetness of the moment we ought gratefully to inhale, without calling upon them for a brightness and a durability beyond their nature. In short," continued she, blushing, as if conscious of being caught in an oration, "it is quite cruel that a poet cannot wander through his regions of enchantment, without having a critic forever, like the Old Man of the Sea, upon his back!" FADLADEEN, it was plain, took this last luckless allusion to himself, and would treasure in in his mind as a whetstone for his next criticism. A suaden silence ensued; and the Princess, glancing a look at FERAMORZ, saw plainly she must wait for a more cour. ageous moment.

But the glories of Nature, and her wild, fragrant airs playing freshly over the current of youthful spirits, will soon heal even deeper wounds than the dull Fadladeens of this world can inflict. In an evening or two after, they came to the small Valley of Gardens, which had been planted by order of the Emperor for his favourite sister Rochinara, during their progress to Cashmere, some years before; and never was there a more spark. ling assemblage of sweets, since the Gulzar-e-Irem, or Rose-Bower of Irem. Every precious flower was there secrated; from the dark hyacinth, to which Hafez com. to be found that poetry, or love, or religion, has ever con. pares his mistress's hair, to the Cúmalatá, by whose rosy blossoms the heaven of Indra is scented. As they sat in the cool fragrance of this delicious spot, and LALLA ROOKн remarked that she could fancy it the abode of tha Flower-loving Nymph whom they worship in the temples of Kathay, or of one of those Peris, those beautiful creatures of the air, who live upon perfumes, and to whom dise they have lost, the young Poet, in whose eyes she a place like this might make some amends for the Paraappeared, while she spoke, to be one of the bright spiritual creatures she was describing, said hesitatingly that he remembered a Story of a Peri, which, if the Princess had no objection, he would venture to relate. "It is," said he, with an appealing look to FADLADEEN, “in a

*The Huma, a bird peculiar to the East. It is supposed to fly constantly in the air, and never touch the ground: it is looked upon us a bird of happy omen; and that every head it overshades will in time wear a crown."-Richardson.

In the terms of alliance made by Fuzzel Oola Khan with Hyder in 1760, one of the stipulations was, "that he should have the distinction of two bonorary attendants standing behind him, holding fans composed of the feathers of the humma, according to the practice of his family."Wilks's South of India. He adds in a note:-"The Humma is a fabulous bird. The head over which its shadow once passes will assuredly

be circled with a crown. The splendid little bird suspended over the throne of Tippo Sultaun, found at Seringapatam in 1799, was intended to represent this poetical fancy."

figures, &c. on those rocks, which have from thence acquired the nave To the pilgrims to Mount Sinai we must attribute the inscriptions, of the Written Mountain."-Volney, M. Gebelin and others have been at much pains to attach some mysterious and important meaning to these inscriptions; but Niebuhr, as well as Volney, thinks that they must have been executed at idle hours by the travellers to Mount Sinai, who were satisfied with cutting the unpolished rock with any pointed instrument; adding to their names and the date of their journeys some rude figures, which bespeak the hand of a people but little skilled in the arts."-Niebuhr. The Story of Sinbad.

Bee Nott's Hafez, Ode v.

The Camalata (called by Linnæus, Ipoman) is the most beautifu of its order, both in the co.our and form of its leaves and flowers; its elegant blossoms are celestial rosy red. Love's proper hue, and have justly procured it the name of Camalatá, or Love's Creeper. -Sir W. Jones.

"Camalatá may also mean a mythological plant, by which all desires are granted to such as inhabit the heaven of Indra; and if ever flower was worthy of Paradise, it is our charming Ipomæa."-1b.

According to Father Premare, in his tract on Chinese Mythology the Mother of Fo-hi was the daughter of heaven, surnamed Flower-kv ing; and as the nymph was walking alone on the bank of a river, sne found herself encircled by a rainbow, after which she became pregnant, and, at the end of twelve years, was delivered of a son radiant as her self."-Asiat. Res.

"Beneath the pillars of CHILMINAR ;*

highter and humbler strain than the other :" then, striking a few careless but melancholy chords on his kitar, he thus began:

PARADISE AND THE PERI

ONE morn a Peri at the gate
Of Eden stood, disconsolate;
And as she listen'd to the Springs

Of Life within, like music flowing,
And caught the light upon her wings

Through the half-open portal glowing, She wept to think her recreant race Should e'er have lost that glorious place! "How happy," exclaim'd this child of air, "Are the holy Spirits who wander there,

"Mid flowers that never shall fade or fall; "Though mine are the gardens of earth and sea "And the stars themselves have flowers for me, "One blossom of Heaven out-blooms them all

"And sweetly the founts of that Valley fall; Though bright are the waters of SING-SU-HAY, "And the golden floods that thitherward stray,t "Yet-oh, 'tis only the Blest can say

"How the waters of Heaven outshine them all!

"Go, wing thy flight from star to star,

From world to luminous world, as far
"As the universe spreads its flaming wall:
"Take all the pleasures of all the spheres,
"And multiply each through endless years,
"One minute of Heaven is worth them all!"

The glorious Angel, who was keeping
The gates of Light, beheld her weeping;
And, as he nearer drew and listen'd
To her sad song, a tear-drop glisten'd
Within his eyelids, like the spray

From Eden's fountain, when it lies
On the blue flow'r, which-Bramins say-
Blooms nowhere but in Paradise.

"Nymph of a fair but erring line!"
Gently he said-" One hope is thine.
""Tis written in the Book of Fate,
"The Peri yet may be forgiv'n,
"Who brings to this Eternal gate

"The Gift that is most dear to Heav'n!
Go, seek it, and redeem thy sin-
""Tis sweet to let the pardon'd in."

Rapidly as comets run

To th' embraces of the Sun ;-
Fleeter than the starry brands
Flung at night from angel hands§
At those dark and daring sprites
Who would climb th' empyreal heights,
Down the blue vault the PERI flies,

And, lighted earthward by a glance
That just then broke from morning's eyes,
Hung hov'ring o'er our world's expanse.
But whither shall the Spirit go
To find this gift for Heav'n?" I know
"The wealth," she cries, " of every urn
"In which unnumber'd rubies burn,

Numerous small islands emerge from the Lake of Cashmere. One is called Char Chenaur, from the plane trees upon it."-Foster.

The Altan Kol or Golden River of Tibet, which runs into the Lakes of Sing su hay, has abundance of go'd in its sands, which employs the inhabitants all the summer in gathering it."-Description of Tibet in Pinkerton,

"The Brahmins of this province insist that the blue campac flowers only in Paradise."--Sir W. Jones. It appears, however, from a curious letter of the Sultan of Menangcabow, given by Marsden, that one place on earth may lay claim to the possession of it. This is the Sultan, who keeps the flower champaka that is blue, and to be found in no other country but his, being yellow elsewhere."-Marsden's Sumatra.

The Mahometans suppose that falling stars are the firebrands wherewith the good angels drive away the bad, when they approach too bear the empy-ean or verge of the heavens "-Fryer.

66

While thus she mused, her pinions fann'd
The air of that sweet Indian land,
Whose air is balm; whose ocean spreads
O'er coral rocks, and amber beds ;||
Whose mountains, pregnant by the beam
Of the warm sun, with diamonds teem;
Whose rivulets are like rich brides,
Lovely, with gold beneath their tides;
Whose sandal groves and bowers of spice
Might be a Peri's Paradise!

But crimson now her rivers ran

With human blood-the smell of death Came recking from those spicy bowers, And man, the sacrifice of man,

Mingled his taint with every breath
Upwafted from th' innocent flowers.

Land of the Sun! what foot invades
Thy Pagods and thy pillar'd shades-¶
Thy cavern shrines, and Idol stones,
Thy Monarchs and their thousand Thrones ?**
"Tis He of GAZNATt-fierce in wrath

He comes, and INDIA's diadems
Lie scatter'd in his ruinous path.-

His bloodhounds he adorns with gems,
Torn from the violated necks

Of many a young and loved Sultana ;†!
Maidens, within their pure Zenana,
Priests in the very fane he slaughters,
And choaks up with the glittering wrecks
Of Golden shrines the sacred water.
Downward the PERI turns her gaze,
And, through the war-field's bloody haze,
Beholds a youthful warrior stand,

Alone beside his native river,-
The red blade broken in his hand,
And the last arrow in his quiver.
Live," said the Conqu'ror, "live to share
"The trophies and the crowns I bear!"
Silent that youthful warrior stood-
Silent he pointed to the flood

All crimson with his country's blood,

*The Forty Pillars; so the Persians call the ruins of Persepai It is imagined by them that this palace and the edifices at Balbec ere buil by Genii, for the purpose of hiding in their subterraneous caverns in mense treasures, which still remain there.-D'Herbelot, Volney,

↑ Diodorus mentions the Isle of Panchaia, to the south of Arabia Fe lix, where there was a temple of Jupiter. This island, or rather cluster of isles, has disappeared, sunk (says Grandpre) in the abyss made by the Sre beneath their foundations."-Voyage to the Indian Oceau. The Isles of Panchaia.

"The cup of Jamshid, discovered, they say, when digging for the foundations of Persepolis."-Richardson.

"It is not like the Sea of India, whose bottom is rich with pearls and ambergris, whose mountains of the coast are stored with gold and precious stones, whose gulfs breed creatures that yield ivory, and among the plants of whose shores are ebony, red wood, and the wood of Hair zan, aloes, camphor, cloves, sandal-wood, and all other spices and aro matics; where parrots and peacocks are birds of the forest, and musk and civet are collected upon the lands."--Travels of two Mohamme dans.

"Sweet," said the Angel, as she gave
The gift into his radiant hand,
"Sweet is our welcome of the Brave

"Who die thus for their native Land."But see-alas!—the crystal bar "Of Eden moves not--holier far "Than even this drop the boon must be, "That opes the gates of Heaven for thee!"

Her first fond hope of Eden blighted,

Now among AFRIC's lunar Mountains,t Far to the South, the PERI lighted;

And sleek'd her plumage at the fountains
Of that Egyptian tide-whose birth
Is hidden from the sons of earth
Deep in those solitary woods,
Where oft the Genii of the Floods
Dance round the cradle of their Nile,
And hail the new-born Giant's smile.
Thence over EGYPT's palmy groves,

Her grots, and sepulchres of Kings,§
The exiled Spirit sighing roves;
And now hangs listening to the doves
In warm ROSETTA'S vale]-now loves

To watch the moonlight on the wings
Of the white pelicans that break
The azure calm of MERIS' Lake.¶
"Twas a fair scene--a Land more bright
Never did mortal eye behold!

Who could have thought, that saw this night
Those valleys and their fruits of gold
Basking in Heaven's serenest light;--
Those groups of lovely date-trees bending
Languidly their leaf-crown'd heads,

Like youthful maids, when sleep descending
Warns them to their silken beds ;--**
Those virgin lilies, all the night

Bathing their beauties in the lake,

That they may rise more fresh and bright,

*Objections may be made to my use of the word Liberty in this, and more especially in the story that follows it, as totally inapplicable to any state of things that has ever existed in the East; but though I cannot, of course, mean to employ it in that enlarged and nobls seuse which is so well understood at the present day, and, I grieve to say, so little acted upon, yet it is no disparagement to the word to apply it to that national wak pendence, that freedom from the interference and dictation of foregaers, without which, indeed, no liberty of any kind can exist ; and for which both Hindoos and Persians fought against their Mussulman Fvaders with, in many cases, a bravery that deserved much better •access.

The Mountains of the Moon, or the Montes Lunæ of antiquity, at the foot of which the Nile is supposed to arise."-Bruce. "Sometimes called," says Jackson, Jibbel Kumrie, or the white ur lunar-coloured mountains; so a white horse is called by the Arabians Amon-coloured hor","

The Nile, which he Abyssinians know by the names of Abey and Alaway, or the Giant." Asiat. Research, vol. 1. p. 387.

"See Perry's View of the Levant for an account of the sepulchres in per Thebes, and the numberless grots, covered all over with hieroypours in the mountains of Upper Egypt.

The orchards of Rosetta are filled with turtle-doves."-Sonnini. 1 Savary inentions the pelicans upon Lake Maris. **The supero date-tree, whose head languidly rec'ines, like that of ■ handsome woman overcome with sleep."-Dafard el Hadad.

When their beloved Sun's awake ;-Those ruin'd shrines and towers that seem The relics of a splendid dream;

Amid whose fairy loneliness

Naught but the lapwing's cry is heard,
Naught seen but (when the shadows, flitting
Fast from the moon, unsheath its gleam,)
Some purple-wing'd Sultana sitting
Upon a column, motionless

And glitt'ring like an Idol bird!

Who could have thought, that there, even there,
Amid those scenes so still and fair,

The Demon of the Plague hath cast
From his hot wing a deadlier blast,
More mortal far than ever came
From the red Desert's sands of flame!
So quick, that ev'ry living thing
Of human shape, touch'd by his wing,
Like plants, where the Simoom hath pass'd,
At once falls black and withering!
The sun went down on many a brow,
Which, full of bloom and freshness then,

Is rankling in the pest-house now,

And ne'er will feel that sun again.
And, oh! to see th' unburied heaps
On which the lonely moonlight sleeps-
The very vultures turn away,
And sicken at so foul a prey!
Only the fierce hyæna stalkst
Throughout the city's desolate walks‡
At midnight, and his carnage plies
Wo to the half-dead wretch, who meets
The glaring of those large blue eyes§

:

Amid the darkness of the streets!

"But the trail of the Serpent is over them all!"

She wept the air grew pure and clear
Around her, as the bright drops ran;
For there's a magic in each tear,

Such kindly Spirits weep for man!

Just then beneath some orange trees,
Whose fruit and blossoms in the breeze
Were wantoning together, free,
Like age at play with infancy-
Beneath that fresh and springing bower,
Close by the lake, she heard the moan
Of one who, at this silent hour,

Had thither stol'n to die alone.
One who in life where'er he moved,

Drew after him the hearts of many;
Yet now, as though he ne'er were loved,
Dies here unscen, unwept by any!
None to watch near him-none to slake
The fire that in his bosom lies,
With ev'n a sprinkle from that lake,

Which shines so cool before his eyes.
No voice, well known through many a day,
To speak the last, the parting word,
Which, when all other sounds decay.
Is still like distant music heard ;-
That tender farewell on the shore
Of this rude world, when all is o'er,
Which cheers the spirit, ere its bark
Puts off into the unknown Dark.

"That beautiful bird, with plumage of the finest shining blue, with purple beak and legs, the natural and living ornament of the temples and palaces of the Greeks and Romans, which, from the stateliness of its port, as well as the brilliancy of its colours, has obtained the title of Sultana."-Sonnini.

† Jackson, speaking of the plague that occurred in West Barbary, when he was there, says, "The birds of the air fled away from the abodes of men. The hyanas, on the contrary, visited the cemeteries,' &c.

1 "Gondar was full of byænas from the time it turned dark, till the dawn of day, seeking the different pieces of slaughtered carcasses, which this cruel and unclean people expose in the streets without burial, and who firmly believe that these animals are Falashta from the neigh bouring mountains, transformed by magic, and come down to eat bu man flesh in the dark in safety."-Bruce.

$ Ibid.

Deserted youth! one thought alone
Shed joy around his soul in death-
That she, whom he for years had known,
And loved, and might have call'd his own,
Was safe from this foul midnight's breath, -
Safe in her father's princely halls,
Where the cool airs from fountain falls,
Freshly perfumed by many a brand
Of the sweet wood from India's land,
Were pure as she whose brow they fann'd

But see who yonder comes by stealth,*
This melancholy bow'r to seek,
Like a young envoy, sent by Health,
With rosy gifts upon her cheek?
"Tis she-far off, through moonlight dim,
He knew his own betrothed bride,
She, who would rather die with him,
Than live to gain the world beside !-
Her arms are round her lover now,

His livid cheek to hers she presses,
And dips, to bind his burning brow,

In the cool lake her loosen'd tresses. Ah! once, how little did he think

An hour would come, when he should shrink With horror from that dear embrace,

Those gentle arms, that were to him
Holy as is the cradling place

Of Eden's infant cherubim !
And now he yields-now turns away,
Shudd'ring as if the venom lay
All in those proffer'd lips alone-
Those lips that, then so fearless grown,
Never until that instant came
Near his unask'd, or without shame.
"Oh! let me only breathe the air,

"The blessed air, that's breathed by thee,

"And, whether on its wings it bear

66

Healing or death, 'tis sweet to me!

"There-drink my tears, while yet they fall"Would that my bosom's blood were balm, "And, well thou know'st, I'd shed it all,

"To give thy brow one minute's calm. "Nay, turn not from me that dear face"Am I not thine-thy own loved bride"The one, the chosen one, whose place,

"In life or death, is by thy side? "Think'st thou that she, whose only light, "In this dim world, from thee hath shone, "Could bear the long, the cheerless night,

66

That must be hers when thou art gone? "That I can live, and let thee go, "Who art my life itself?-No, no"When the stem dies, the leaf that grew "Out of its heart must perish too!

Then turn to me, my own love, turn, "Before, like thee, I fade and burn;

66

Cling to these yet cool lips, and share "The last pure life that lingers there!" She fails she sinks-as dies the lamp In charnel airs, or cavern-damp, So quickly do his baleful sighs Quench all the sweet light of her eyes. One struggle-and his pain is pastHer lover is no longer living! One kiss the maiden gives, one last, Long kiss, which she expires in giving!

"Sleep," said the PERI, as softly she stole The farewell sigh of that vanishing soul, As true as e'er warm'd a woman's breast"Sleep on, in visions of odour rest, "In balmier airs than ever yet stirr'd "Th' enchanted pile of that lonely bird, "Who sings at the last his own death-lay,t "And in music and perfume dies away!

This circumstance has been often introduced into poetry;-by Vincentius Fabricius, by Darwin, and lately, with very powerful effect, by Mr. Wilson.

In the East, they suppose the Phoenix to have fifty orifices in his bill, which are continued to his tail; and that, after living one thousand veais, he builds himself a funeral pile, sings a melodious air of different

Thus saying, from her lips she spread

Unearthly breathings through the place,
And shook her sparkling wreath, and shed
Such lustre o'er each paly face,
That like two lovely saints they seem'd,
Upon the eve of doomsday taken
From their dim graves, in odour sleeping
While that benevolent PERI beam'd
Like their good angel, calmly keeping

Watch o'er them till their souls would waken

But morn is blushing in the sky;
Again the PERI soars above,
Bearing to Heav'n that precious sigh
Of pure, self-sacrificing love.
High throbb'd her heart, with hope elate,
Th' Elysian palm she soon shall win,
For the bright Spirit at the gate
Smiled as she gave that off'ring in ;
And she already hears the trees
Of Eden, with their crystal bells
Ringing in that ambrosial breeze
That from the throne of ALLA Swells;
And she can see the starry bowls

That lie around that lucid lake,
Upon whose banks admitted Souls
Their first sweet draught of glory take!

But, ah! even PERIS' hopes are vain-
Again the Fates forbade, again

Th' immortal barrier closed-"Not yet,"
The Angel said, as, with regret,

He shut from her that glimpse of glory"True was the maiden, and her story, "Written in light o'er ALLA's head,

66

By seraph eyes shall long be read. "But, PERI, see-the crystal bar "Of Eden moves not-holier far "Than ev'n this sigh the boon must be

"That opes the Gates of Heav'n for thee"

Now, upon SYRIA's land of rosest
Softly the light of Eve reposes,
And, like a glory, the broad sun
Hangs over sainted LEBANON ;

Whose head in wintry grandeur tow'rs,
And whitens with eternal sleet,
While summer, in a vale of flow'rs.
Is sleeping rosy at his feet.

To one, who look'd from upper air
O'er all th' enchanted regions there,
How beauteous must have been the glow,
The life, the sparkling from below!
Fair gardens, shining streams, with ranks
Of golden melons on their banks,
More golden where the sun-light falls ;-
Gay lizards glittering on the wallst
Of ruin'd shrines, busy and bright
As they were all alive with light;
And, yet more splendid, numerous flocks
Of pigeons, settling on the rocks,
With their rich restless wings, that gleam
Variously in the crimson beam
Of the warm West,-as if inlaid
With brilliants from the mine, or made
Of tearless rainbows, such as span

Th' unclouded skies of PERISTAN.
And then the mingling sounds that come,
Of shepherd's ancient reed, with hum

harmonies through his fifty organ-pipes, flaps his wings with a velocity which sets fire to the wood, and consumes himself."-Richardsen. "On the shores of a quadrangular lake stand a thousand goblets, made of stars, out of which souls predestined to enjoy felicity drink the crystal wave." ."-From Châteaubriand's Description of the Mahometas Paradise, in his Beauties of Christianity.

Richardson thinks that Syria had its name from Suri, a beautiful and delicate species of rose, for which that country has been always famou hence, Suristan, the Land of Roses.

"The number of lizards I saw one day in the great court of the Temple of the Sun at Balbec amounted to many thousands; the groun the walls, and stones of the ruined buildings, were covered with them." -Bruce.

"The Syrinx or Pan's pipe is sti. a pastoral instrument in Syria -Russel.

Of the wild bees of PALESTINE,*

Banqueting through the flow'ry vales; And, JORDAN, those sweet banks of thine, And woods, so full of nightingales.t

But naught can charm the luckless PER
Her soul is sad, her wings are weary-
Joyless she sees the Sun look down
On that great Temple, once his own,t
Whose lonely columns stand sublime,
Flinging their shadows from on high,
Like dials, which the wizard, Time,

Had raised to count his ages by!
Yet haply there may lie conceal'd

Beneath those Chambers of the Sun,
Some amulet of gems, anneal'd
In upper fires, some tablet seal'd

With the great name of SOLOMON,
Which, spell'd by her illumined eyes,
May teach her where, beneath the moon,
In earth or ocean, lies the boon,
The charm that can restore so soon
An erring Spirit to the skies.

Cheer'd by this hope she bends her thither
Still laughs the radiant eye of Heaven,
Nor have the golden bowers of Even
In the rich West begun to wither;—
When, o'er the vale of BALBEC winging
Slowly, she sees a child at play,
Among the rosy wild-flow'rs singing,
As rosy and as wild as they;
Chasing, with eager hands and eyes,
The beautiful blue damsel-flies,§

That flutter'd round the jasmine stems,
Like winged flow'rs or flying gems:-
And, near the boy, who tired with play
Now nestling 'mid the roses lay,
She saw a wearied man dismount
From his hot steed, and on the brink
Of a small imaret's rustic fount||

Impatient fling him down to drink.
Then swift his haggard brow he turn'd
To the fair child, who fearless sat,
Though never yet hath day-beam burn'd
Upon a brow more fierce than that,—
Sullenly fierce a mixture dire,

Like thunder clouds, of gloom and fire;
In which the PERI's eye could read
Dark tales of many a ruthless deed;
The ruin'd maid-the shrine profaned-
Oaths broken-and the threshold stain'd
With blood of guests!-there written, all,
Black as the damning drops that fall
From the denouncing Angel's pen,
Ere Mercy weeps them out again.
Yet tranquil now that man of crime
(As if the balmy evening time
Soften'd his spirit) look'd and lay,
Watching the rosy infant's play :-
Though still, whene'er his eye by chance
Fell on the boy, its lurid glance

Met that unclouded, joyous gaze,
As torches, that have burnt all night
Through some impure and godless rite,
Encounter morning's glorious rays.
But, hark! the vesper calls to pray'r,
As slow the orb of daylight sets,

Is rising sweetly on the air,

From SYRIA's thousand minarets.

The boy has started from the bed
Of flow'rs, where he had laid his head,
And down upon the fragrant sod

Kneels with his forehead to the south,
Lisping th' eternal name of God

From Purity's own cherub mouth,
And looking, while his hands and eyes
Are lifted to the glowing skies,
Like a stray babe of Paradise,
Just lighted on that flow'ry plain,
And seeking for its home again.

Oh! 'twas a sight-that Heav'n-that child-
A scene, which might have well beguiled
Ev'n haughty EBLIS of a sigh

For glories lost and peace gone by!

And how felt he, the wretched Man
Reclining there-while memory ran
O'er many a year of guilt and strife,
Flew o'er the dark flood of his life,
Nor found one sunny resting-place,
Nor brought him back one branch of grace?
"There was a time," he said, in mild,

Heart-humbled tones-" thou blessed child!
"When, young and haply pure as thou,
"I look'd and pray'd like thee-but now—"
He hung his head-each nobler aim,

And hope, and feeling, which had slept
From boyhood's hour, that instant came
Fresh o'er him, and he wept-he wept!
Blest tears of soul-felt penitence!
In whose benign, redeeming flow

Is felt the first, the only sense

Of guiltless joy that guilt can know

"There's a drop," said the PERI," that dow. fm the

moon

"Falls through the withering airs of Junc

66

Upon EGYPT's land,t of so healing a pow'r "So balmy a virtue, that ev'n in the hour "That drop descends, contagion dies, "And health reanimates earth and skies '— "Oh, is it not thus, thou man of sin,

"The precious tears of repentance fali?

66 Though foul thy fiery plagues within,
"One heavenly drop hath dispell'd the " a!
And now-behold him kneeling there
By the child's side, in humble pray'r,
While the same sunbeam shines upon
The guilty and the guiltless one,

And hymns of joy proclaim through He s'a
The triumph of a Soul Forgiv'n!

"Twas when the golden orb had set,
While on their knees they linger'd yet,
There fell a light more lovely far
Than ever came from sun or star,
Upon the tear that, warm and meek,
Dew'd that repentant sinner's cheek.
To mortal eye this light might seem
A northern flash or meteor beam-
But well the enraptured PERI knew
'Twas a bright smile the Angel threw
From Heaven's gate, to hail that tear
Her harbinger of glory near!

"Joy, joy forever! my task is done-
"The gates are pass'd, and Heav'n is won:

*"Such Turks as at the common hours of prayer are on the road, o so employed as not to find convenience to attend the mosques, are still obliged to execute that duty; nor are they ever known to fail, whatever business they are then about, but pray immediately when the hour alarms them, whatever they are about, in that very place they chance to stand on; insomuch that when a janissary, whom you have to guard you up and down the city, hears the notice which is giver, him from the steeples, he will turn about, stand still, and beckon with his hand, to tell his charge he must have patience for awhile; when, taking out his handkerchief, he spreads it on the ground, sits cross legged thereupon, and says his prayers, though in the open market, which, having ended, he leaps briskly up, salutes the person whom he undertook to convey, and renews his journey with the mild expression of Ghell gohnnum ghali, or, Come, denr, follow me."-Aaron Hill's Travels.

The Nocta, or Miraculous Drop, which falls in Egypt | recisely on St. John's day, in June, and is supposed to have the eile of stopping the plague.