v§ ^■^^Aiivaani'*^'^ "-jt^Aavaani^ I § v-nrisn iJJlSOi- A^IUBRARY(?;C r^ <^;0FCAIIF0%, "^^AHvaan^ "%: ,5jrtEUNIVERy/A i s( ^^tUIUUK -l" '"WA ?«>m •I' I oe x\lMINfVFPri-; \^ ee. ■ I .^ME•UNIVERy/4 us /= ^^OFC ^ THE FALL OF ALGIERS; THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT; OTHER POEMS. JOHN NEWBY MOSBY. "BE TO HIS FAULTS A LITTLE BLIND, " BE TO HIS MERITS EVER KIND." DONCASTER: BROOKE & CO. HIGH-STREET ; AND C. & J. WHITE, BAXTER-GATE. MDCCCXXXI. DONCASTER: PRINTED BY BROOKE AND CO. HIGH-STREET DEDICATED TO THB VOUNG GENTLEMEN AT MR. GRAHAM'S ACADEMY, PROSPECT HOUSE; BY THEIR OLD SCHOOL-FELLOW, AND HUMBLE SERVANT, JOHN NEWBY MOSBY a2 SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart. Author of the Waverley Novels, &c. JAMES MONTGOMERY, Esq. Author of the World before the Flood, &c. HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE. THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF MEXBROUGH. THE RIGHT HON. LORD DOWNE. THE RIGHT HON. LORD HAWKE. THE RIGHT HON. LORD MORPETH, M.P. THE HON. WILLIAM DUNCOMBE. THE HON. ROBERT KING. SIR WILLIAM BRYAN COOKE, Bart. SIR JOSEPH COPLEY, Bart. SIR FRANCIS LINDLEY WOOD, Bart. SIR CHARLES W. FLINT. LADY HELENA COOKE, Owston. LADY COOKE, Wheatley. LADY WOOD, Hickleton. Rev. J. Armytage, Hickleton Mr. Thomas Archbell, Tadcaster Mr. J. Allison, jun. Mr. Horatio Atkinson James Alexander, Esq. Mr. John Aldred Mr. Auckland Mr. Samuel Appleby, F.L.S. Edwin Appleby, Esq. Mr. Armstrong J. Branson, Esq. Rev. H. J. Branson Thomas Brooke, Esq. Mrs. Brooke Mr Joseph Birley Mr. Brooke Mr. Henry Brooke, Wetherby Mr. George Brooke Mr. William Brooke John Boulton, Esq. Mr. Thomas Barker Mr. James Bacchus Mr. William Brooke Henry Bovver, Esq. Mr. R. Belcher R. Baxter, Esq. G. Broadrick, Esq. Hamphall Stubbs Mr. Baker, Deaf & Dumb Institution Charles Bluck, Esq. Miss Amelia Bright Mr. Boston Mrs. John Belcher Mr. Bennett, Prospect House Mr. J. Buckland Mr. John Barwick Dr. Bower, Broxholme Mr. Barraclough, Arksey J. Browne, Esq. Thome R. O. BIythman, Esq. Swinton VI SUBSCniBERS' NAMES. Mr. William Bcetham Mr. Matthew Brooke Mr. Brabiner Mr. Charles Bentley Mr. BuUas Mr. James Bowe Mr. George Brooke Mr. J. Burgon Mrs. Brailsforil Mr. George Bean, Snaith Mr. R. B. Bell, Wetherby Mrs. Brelsford, Barmby Dun Mr. James Beswick, Huddersfield C. H. Childers, Esq. Mrs. L. W. Childers Mr. John Crawshaw Mr. Thomas Cartmell Mr. William Chatham Rev. William Cuthbert John CoUinson, Esq. Miss Cooke Mr. William Cawkwell Miss Charlesworth, Snaith Mr. Joseph Clayton William C'hadwick, Esq. Arksey Mr. Cherriman Mr. B. Casson Mr. John Clark Mr. Francis Campion R. J. Coulraan, Esq. Wadworth Hall Mr. John Clarke, Staveley Charles Cooke, Esq. Alverley Mr. Carr J. W. Childers, Esq. Cantley Mr. Richard Cockin Rev. W. W. Childers, Cantley Miss Chivers, Belle Vue Miss Clarke Mr. William Carlton Rev. Thomas Cator, Skelbrook Rev. A. Cooke, Loversall Mr. Wilson Crewdsou Mr. J. Clarke, Hatfield Miss F. Cawthorne, PoUington Mr. F. Carr, PoUington Mr. J. Chester, Bennetthorpe George Cooke, Esq. Can House Hamilton Cooke, Esq. Carr House P. D. Cooke, Esq. Owston Mrs. Clarke, Cusworth Mrs. B. Cooke, Alverley Mr. James Dunhill MissDunhill Mr. Charles Dey Mrs. R. Dennison Mr. Charles Dunwell Mrs. Dixon E. B. Denison, Esq. Mr Robert Drury Mr. Richard Dale Mr. W. P. Dale Mr. Dawson, Sandbeck G. D. Dugdale, Esq. Mr. Dickinson Rev. William Ellis Mr. R. Earnshaw Mr. Ellis John Ellison, Esq. Sandbeck Captain Elrasall, Woodlands Mrs. England J. Falconar, jun. Esq. Miss Frank, Belle Mont Mrs. Foster, Lingodell F. Fisher, Esq. F. Fisher, Esq. Mr. Robert Farr Mr. George Fowler Mr. George Firth Rev. W. C. Fenton, Bryn Bella Mr. Thomas Fearnley W. Fletcher, Esq. Amcotts John Fullerton, Esq. Thriberg Mr. William Fowler, Buriingham Mr. John Fox Major Fyffe, Logie, Dundee Mr. Graham, Prospect House Mr. Graham, ditto Mr, Graham, ditto Mrs. Graham, ditto Miss Mary Graham, ditto Miss Eliza Graham, ditto Master Robert Graham, ditto Master Henry Graham, ditto Mr. A. W. Goodwin Mr. J. Gouldsbrough Mr. George Galloway Mrs. Greaves, Elmsall Lodge John Greaves, Esq. ditto H. M. Greaves. Esq. Hesley Mr. Robert Gibson MissGrasby SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. vn ■Mrs. J. S. Hodgson T. W. Hall, Esq. Mrs. Hunter, Tadcaster Mrs. Haugh Mrs. Hale J. Hall, Esq. Barmby Dun Mr. Edwin Hewitt Mrs. Higgins W. S. Heaton, Esq. William Hurst, Esq. Mr. Hutchinson Mr. John Hatfield Mr. H. P. Horsley Mr. Edwin Hartley Dr. Hardy Mr. Henry Hall Mr. George Harrison Mr. J. F. Herring Mrs. Hodgson Rev. L. J. Hobson, Adwick Mr. Timothy Harrison Mrs. George Hall Mr. Herbert Harrison Miss Hopkinson, St. James's Cottage G. Higgins, Esq. Skellow Grange Mr. Hunter, Sheffield Mr. J. R. Hepworth Mr. John Hastie Mr. William Hopton Mr. Isaac Hill, Thome Mrs. J. Hartley, Tadcaster Mr. Wra. H. Hartley, Tadcaster Mr. Joseph Hartley, Tadcaster Mrs. Jackson, Haldenby Park Mrs. J. Jackson J. Jackson, Esq. Louth Miss Justice, Howden Miss Jackson Rev. J. Jackson, Haldenby Park Rev. P. Inchbald, LL.D. Adwick Mr. Samuel Jackson Mr. J. Jackson Mr. John Kidson Miss Kitchingman Mr. Robert Kemp, Levitt Hagg Mr. John Knowlson Mr. William Kenyon Mr. J. Lockwood, jun. John Littlewood, Esq, Mr. Alderman Lockwood Mr. Littlewood Rev. John Lister J. W. Littlewood, Esq. Mr. J. Lees Mr. John Lilley, London Miss F. Leeson, Snaith L. Langley, Esq. F.L.S. Brampton Mr. John Lyon Mr. William Latham, Balncroft G. Legard, Esq. Barmbro' Grange Mr. Edwin Lilley, HuU John Moore, Esq. J. E. Morey, Esq. T. B. Mason, Esq. Mr. C. G. Mason Mr. J. M'Glashan Mr. T. R MandaU B. Martin, Esq. Mr. John Moxon, Misson The Misses Moore George Martin, Esq. Sandall Mr. Robert Milner Mechanics' Library Mr. William Mosby, PoUington Henry Mozley, Esq. Derby Mr. J. Mirfin, jun. Rev. H. S. Milner, LL.D. Thriberg Mr. William Morley Mr. R. E. Maw Mr. R. E. Maw Miss Jane Myers Mr. Henry Moore Miss Morton J. Marratt, Esq. Bennetthorpe Mr. Henry Milnes, Tickhill Mr. Marriott, Wheatley W. S. Marshall, Esq. West Field Rev. J. Mc All Dr. Matthews, Hatfield Mr. James Moate, Snaith Colonel Massey, Hatfield Mr. G. M. A. Maude, Wetherby Isaac Morley, Esq. Mrs. Mosby, PoUington John Nicholson, Esq. Mr. James Nield Miss Naylor Mr. Naggs, Prospect House J. Nicholson, Esq. Wath Rev. J.L. Newmarch, HoolonPagnell Vlll SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. Dr. Overend J. Oldknow, Esq. B. A. Christ College, Cambridge G. Parker, Esq. Streetthorpe W. Palmer, Esq. Mrs. S. Peacock Mr. Punshon Miss Parnell J. H. Preston, Esq. Newcastle Rev. George Pickering, Arksey Mr. Pearson, Thome Mr. B. Popplewell Mr. Parkin, Cusworth Thomas Poole, Esq. B.A. Beech Field Miss Pye, Broom Lodge Mr. John Parkin, jun. Cusworth R. Robson, Esq. Mr. Reuben Robinson Mr. Wood Readett Dr. Robinson. Captain Rawson Mr. T. Ridgway, Retford Mr. John Ravenhill Misses Raynes and Walker Mr. Thomas Rich Mr. R. Ridgill J. Raeburn, Esq. J. Rickard, Esq. Mrs. Ridsdale Mrs. Ridsdale Mr. William Reed Mr. Rogerson, East Field House Mr. Hugh Reid G. Robinson, Esq. Mr. William Richardson Mr. Richard Rhodes, London Rev. Dr. Sharpe, Vicarage Rev. Dr. Sharpe, Vicarage Henry Standi sh, Esq. Captain Saunders R. Storrs, Esq. J. B. Sheardown, Esq. Mrs. C. Sotheron E. Sheardown, Esq. Mr. Benjamin Shillitto, PolUngton Dr. Scholfield Miss C. Sheardown Mr. S. S. Singleton Miss Staunton John Suett, Esq. Mr. W. S. Smith Lieutenant Sheardown Mr. Adin Storer Mr. Stokill Mrs. J. Smith Mrs. Shaw Mr. Storey, Cantley Mr. George Sykes Miss Stubbs Rev. J. Sorsby John Sheppard, Esq. Balby Mr. Smith, Prospect House Mr. R. Stacey Mr. Skelton, Cowick Rev. R. J. Sergeantson, Snaith Mrs. Shearburn, Snaith Mr. J. C. Sykes, Cowick Mr. John Smith, Wetherby Rev. C. S. Stanhope, Sprotbro' Mr. G. Siddall William Sheardown, Esq. Mr. W. Slack Mr. Charles Tootle Mr. J. Turton Mrs. R. Tilburn Mr. Richard Tallis Mrs. George Thorpe Mr. John Turner Mr. Tattershall Mr. James Thomas Mr. John Till Mr. John Tirpin G. B. Testa, Esq. Mr. John Tiplady, Wetherby T. W. Tew, Esq. Mrs. Tasburgh, Burghwallis Miss Tune, Selby Miss Tasker, Tolston Lodge Captain Trueman, Pontefract Mr. James Vence W. T. Weeks, Esq. Mr. Thomas Wright T. Walker, Esq. Wilsic Mrs. Richard Wood G. C. Walker, Esq. Mr. Weightman Mr. Francis Wragg Mrs. Worsop R. F. Wilson, Esq. Melton Mrs. R. F. Wilson, Melton SUBSCRIBERS' NAMES. IX Mr. John Watson Mr. Worthington Miss S. Wragg Mr. Cuthbert Wigham Mr. G. Wharam Mr. G. Wigelswcrtli Mr. W. Wakefield Mr. R. Wilkinson Mrs. S. Wood F. J. Woodyeare, Esq. J. Woodhead, Esq. Messrs. C. and J. White Mr. H. Whittington, Bawtry Mr. Joseph Wright Mr. R. Wellborne Mr. T.Webb Rev. A. B. Wrightson, Campsall Mr. Wotnack Rev. H. Watkins, Barmbro' Rev. T. Woodcock, Swillington Mr. Robert Wells Mrs. G. C. Walker Mrs. Waud, Cowick Mrs. James Wheelhouse, Snaith Mr. Robert Wood Rev. G. Wright, Bilham Mr. John Watson Miss Walker, Tolston Lodge Mr. W. H. Woodward Mrs. Philip Yonge, Campsall CONTENTS. Invocation TO THE Spirit OP Poesy 1 The Spirit's Reply .• 4 THE FALL OF ALGIERS 12 The Shipwrecked Mariner 51 The Mother's Darling 55 MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO' 63 The Pilgrim 102 The Dragon 107 THE SHIPWRECK Ill Mary's Birthday 175 The Descent of Jupiter 178 The Snow Storm 179 THE DISAPPOINTMENT 184 The Sunset Hour 220 THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT 225 The Farewell 357 The Wisdom of the World 358 MOUNT SION— A Vision 359 PREFACE. To write a Preface to a book is hard, At least a prose one by a rhyming bard ; For let him do or say whate'er he will. His prosing preface rhymes and jingles still: And so he must who turns all things to rhyme, AVho writes by rule, and still keeps pace with time. For hobbling prose limps slowly on its way, While cheerful verse trips sprightly, blithe, and gay ; Inspires the soul, and makes it wakeful keep. While droning prose would lull it fast asleep. But if 'tis true what often has been said, " A Preface now-a-days is never read," (Which, by the by is scarce to be believed. At least I doubt it— I may be deceived;) To write one then seems but of little use. Not e'en to praise one's self,— or to abuse. For cogent reasons, some more favour'd bard. Which seems, in my opinion, very hard. Yet if we take it on this ipse dixit. And own it useless all— then why affix it? The reason's plain— it has become the fashion. And patronised by nearly all the nation ; For who would e'er expect to find, or look. In this learn'd age, for an unprefaced book .? Xll PREFACE. You might as well build houseSj cots, and churches. Sans doors, sans windows, and without their porches. As write a book without a preface to it, — So says a learned, celebrated Poet. Yet windows, doors, and porches being there. Would not you think it somewhat strange and queer. If down the chimney, or bounce through the roof. The people came ? 'Twould be almost a proof That their intentions were somewhat malicious — At least you'd be inclined to be suspicious. A window, door, a porch, — a preface is To every book ,- the way you cannot miss. Unless you're bent upon the sin of sinning, By not beginning at the first beginning : Where your impatience will not let you stay. But clamb'ring o'er, steal in some other way ; Which action is, to popular belief. The practice of a robber and a thief. I beg your pardons if too much IJlatter, And hope you'll deem it not a hanging matter : Not willingly at all would I offend ye, AYho do support and handsomely befriend me. Yet let me say what learned men have said. The preface should before the book be read ; For in it there you oft display 'd will find The richest treasures of the author's mind. As diamonds sparkle in the darkest mine. So in a preface there will often shine — (Believe or not believe it, just do either) — More brilliant wit than all the book together. Read or unread, a preface there must be In every book of high or low degree ; PREFACE. Xlll From the huge folio to the pamphlet small. All must be prefaced — prefaced one and all. And if a preface you ne'er read before. Pray now begin, and read my preface o'er : There's nothing wonderful or witty in it. Yet, standing^r5^ i' th' book, it must of course begin it. This part dismiss'd, I now must make ray bow. And pay my humble compliments to you. Ladies and Gentlemen, and pretty Misses; And take an opportunity, as this is. To thank you all whose names are here enshrined Within this book and graven on my mind. For your prompt patronage so liberal and kind. Now that ray book is all complete and printed. Which by advertisement before 1 hinted, I here present it to your kind perusal ; Greet it with smiles, nor frown a dark refusal : For if you frown, or act the critic's part. The Bard you'll kill, or break his little heart ; And if you kill him by your frowns, 'twill be Far worse than murder or felo-de-se. But I am apt to think there's not much danger. As deaths of this sort now are somewhat stranger Than they were formerly, which, by the by. Were very melancholy deaths to die. But be that as it may, the die is cast. And all, save your approving judgment, pass'd : Then do not put the black cap on your head,* Nor let your awful sentence be — dead— dead ! • The Judge puts on the black cap when he is about to pronounce sentence of death. XIV PREFACE. Should he be guilty of the heinous crime Of writing both bad reason and bad rhyme, AVhich in these times he thinks may be excused, As both these things are " now about" much used. Be it fashion, or be it not, he cannot tell — One thing he's certain of, ami knows full well — He's done his best to please you, gentle reader ; What more could he have done ? A humble pleader. In his own cause he pleads with due submission. Then lend not a deaf ear to his petition : It is ihejirst, perhaps the last he'll make — Then grant it all for kind compassion's sake. He now awaits from each approving smiles, The sweetest solace crowning all his toils ; For toils they have been, that you may depend on't. From the beginning to the very end on't — Toils that have often caused the head-ache, heart-ache. And all the woes that with these ills do partake — The tortur'd thought, rack'd sense, and lialf-crack'd brains. And these are all he's yet reap'd for his pains. But now they're at an end, and that a bliss is ; If, Ladies, Gentlemen, and pretty Misses, You'll sweetly smile on this, his, first endeavour, 'Twill claim his humble gratitude for ever ! And now, kind Critic, just a word with thee — Allow me here to be both frank axid free. As bosom friends are when good wine they're drinking. And tell thee, friend, that I have just been thinking 'Tis hardish work to try to please all parties. However firm upon the deed your heart is : PREFACE. XV For some will grumble, some be discontented. Nor can it well that I see be prevented. Till all the world of the same mind shall be. To praise or blame in unanimity. And till this great millennium comes about. The world must still be fill'd with error, doubt ; With fending, proving, assertion, contradiction. And all the noisy jargon mingling truth with fiction. If thou art one that lov'st such stormy weather. And plucks a crow with all not of thy feather ; If thou delights to wade in troubled waters. And for mere spleen a reputation barters ; Then give me leave to say, kind friend and neighbour, I envy not thy very pleasant labour : And shouldst thou deign to read my little book. With aspect grim and criticising look. And grope through every page for faults and follies. As birds seek berries 'mid the prickly hollies. When winter reigns, and leafless every bough. And all the ground imbedded deep with snow— This shouldst thou do, then, give me leave to say, 'Tis seeking needles in a truss of hay ; Qng, For when thou finds them they're not worth thy keep- And thy rich harvest will not pay for reaping. Yet should'st thou catch at ev'ry straw and bubble. Thou e'en mayst take them for thy honest trouble. All faults and blemishes that thou canst see, I beg that thou wilt charge them all to me : But if thou findest aught that's well exprest. Then say 'tis pilfer'd from— whom thou know'st best- Say that I borrow'd, with intent to quote it— In short, say any thing, save that I wrote it : XVI PREFACE. That is, if thou dost think 'twill give thee satisfaction, In doing such a noble, generous action. Now fare ye well, kind readers, one and all- Rich, noble, learn'd, old, young, and great, and small: Yet ere I go, and make my final exit, I'll do my duty — England expects it — That is, to doff my hat, and make a handsome bow, Ladies and Gentlemen, to you and you. To this address I'll not add one iota. Save and except a pretty little motto ; See here it is — I've placed it at the end. And to your notice kindly recommend — " Be to his Jaults a little blind, " Be to his merits ever kind." This motto bear, kind readers, in your mind. Meantime, your humble Servant Resting, I with this preface leave off Jesting, DoNCASTER, Nov. 21, 1831. INVOCATION TO THE SPIRIT OF POESY Upon a mountain's tow'ring height methought I stood Alone, 'midst nature's silent solitude : The bustling world with all its vain parade. Its ostentatious glare, its pomp, its pride display'd. Was far beneath my feet ;— its war, its strife. Its busy tumult, and its varied life Ne'er enter'd here ; — its ceaseless noise invaded not The confines of this silent, solitary spot: Tempests, and clouds, and storms beneath me roll ; With wonderment and awe was fiU'd my ravish'd soul : I look'd around, the height sublime survey'd ; Myswelling heart wasfuU, and thusmethonghtl pray'd: Spirit of Poesy ! do thou inspire My mortal powers with more than mortal fire : Teach me to soar above the vulgar throng Of earth-born poets ; who with humble song Like flutt'ring moths around the taper's blaze In narrow circles sweep; its feeble rays Their bright meridian sun. Give me to shine In thine own image — make me wholly thine. A "J INVOCATION TO THE SPIRIT OF POESY. Spirit of Poesy ! from thy starry throne Look dowrij and sweetly smile, and deign to own A craving supplicant; — let his earnest prayers Approach thy regal court, 'mid the revolving spheres. Give me to roam, wide as is thy command. And equal to the task my intellects expand : Give me to mount and soar, where never yet Advent' rous man his wand'ring footsteps set. Spirit of Poesy ! from the realms of night. Let thy bright star fill all my soul with light: From the vastdepths below, where ceaseless oceans roll. Thy influence let me feel ; invigorate my soul : Teach me, O teach me all thy secret art; Thy purest spirit through my every part Infuse; bid it irradiate, let it inspire. Kindle, illume, and set me all on fire ! Spirit of Poesy ! awake, arise ; With thy celestial presence glad mine eyes ; Arise, awake, and at my bidding come And dwell within me, make my heart thy home; Model, and mould, and fashion to thy will; Its altar cleanse, with purest incense fill Its every part; make it a holy shrine, A temple fit for thee, a temple all divine. Teach my aspiring thoughts to mount and spring. And teach my tongue with ecstacy to sing As never Poet sung — so sweet the note; And teach me how to write, as never Poet wrote — So rich, so smooth, so clear, so pure a flow Of numbers ; so bright the fire, so warm the glow INVOCATION' TO THE SPIRIT OF POESV. tJ Of Inspiration ! Taught by tlicc, my verse shall biiiig- Its tribute to thy throne, and praise thee while I sing. Open to me thy richest stores, and give My rapt'rous spirit in thy sight to live : Visible effects give me to trace, and bring To light the cause mysterious whence they spring. Great is my request, boundless is my desire — O grant it : touch thou my lips with hallow'd fire ! Give me to grasp infinitude of space j Bound by thy laws, yet free in every place : Let me with yon bright sun encompass earth and sky ; Outstrip in thought the dubious comets as they fly : Let my loud verse with the loud thunder roar. And its vast echoes shake the trembling shore; The lightning's flash, and its electric sweep. My verse shall equal, and its measures keep. I burn to be on fire and wrapt in flames. Whose radiant brightness shall outshine the names Of Homer, Virgil, Milton, and eclipse their sun That has so long its glorious circuit run. This my last wish I would that thou didst grant; Yet grant my every wish, supply my every want : Let me traverse the vast infinitude of space. And urge me onward in the glorious race ; Let me encompass wide creation's round. Then teach me where to leap creation's bound. Take me to some far distant land, far, far away, Where a new sun gives light to a new day ; Bear me aloft to realms of darker night. Where stars more brilliant glow and shed a fairer light ; a2 4 THE SPIRIT'S REPLY. Take me to some new world where seasons never change, There in elysian fields for ever let me range ; Free as the breath of morn, unshackled, unconfin'd. Be my soul's thoughts, be my aspiring mind. Be thou my guide, my guardian, and my friend. Direct my steps, at my right hand attend : Teach me on tow'ring wings to mount and soar. Some undiseover'd track, some region to explore. Some hidden path to tread, unknown, untrod before. Methonght I paus'd, and anxious gaz'd around. On earth, and sea, and sky — a wide profound. I look'd, and wish'd an answer to my prayer — Still and unruffled was the midnight air ; I look'd again, yet nought around could see But the green earth, the sky, and the blue sea; I stood on the world's pinnacle, a thing unknown. Unnoticed, unrelieved, deserted, and alone. THE SPIUIT'S REPLY. Again I look'd, — the east was in a flame, A radiant form from out the glory came And stood before me ; frowning, thus she spoke : "How couldst thou dare, thou fragile worm, provoke. That yon bright spirit thron'd above should give What none on earth can ever taste and live ? She heard thy haughty prayer, knows its intent. But grants it not — be that thy punishment. THE SPIRIT'S REPLV. I come, the least of all her shining train. To tell thee thou art foolish, proud, and vain ; Nor can thy invocation tempt her from the sky, But me she hither sent, and bade me thus reply. " Ere Time its rapid rolling stream begun; Ere through th' abyss of space yon star the sun Was launch'd to roll, mid twice ten thousand more; Ere light and heat sprung into life ; before This little ball of dust was fashion'd in its frame ; Before this lovely universe received a name; Celestial Poesy existed still, — as free As boundless space, as lasting as eternity. From her sprung knowledge forth, and science had its birth. She visits other worlds besides this spot of earth. Sometimes she deigns to dwell with fragile man. To teach him all his narrow soul can span. " A chosen few, in distant ages, she A welcome bade, to taste the sweets of Poesy : The luscious banquet she before them spread — Herself, a guest, was seated at their head ; Her brows with stars of radiant light were crown'd. She smiled ineftable, and bade the feast go round : Presenting each with a bright crystal cup, Sparkling and full, she bade them drink it up. So deeply the libation did they pour. The crystal goblets drain'd till they could drain no more : They rose enraptur'd from the feast divine. Half drunken made, like mortal men with wine. A3 6 THE SPIKIT'S REPLY. The few small drops that they behind them left. Thousands have giasp'd at, swallow'd, and bereft The embryo world of all ; — for those that be Nothing remains — there's nothing left for thee; And yet thou dared prefer thy impious prayer, And ask (a mortal thou) more than a mortal's share. " Then hear me now relate : attend, while I rehearse The varied subjects of their various verse ; I'll tell thee all that has been sung by man : If, after that, thy feeble sense can scan Aught still unsung, then be it thine, nor shun The golden prize that never yet was won; If not, remain henceforth as thou wert wont to be. Unknown, unnoticed, in thy dull obscurity. " Their very souls were drunk with the celestial fire; With raptures fiU'd, they seiz'd the sounding lyre. They snatch'd the golden harp ; they swept them well ; Their theme was boundless — heaven, earth, and hell. By turns they sung, and marshall'd in review ; With vig'rous souls they soar'd, with vig'rous wings they flew ; Travers'd the bounds of wide creation through. Exhausted worlds, and then created new. " But chiefly earth and earthly things attract The mind of man ; his soul is taught to act By what he sees around him ; what he hears His influenced passions move; his hopes, his fears. Prompt him to sing of fear, to sing of hope ; 'J'hence teaches him to give his verse a wider scope — THE SPIRIT'S REPLY. / He sings of all, he sings of eacli by turns. Smiles with the gay, and with the mourner mourns; Laughs as the thoughtless laugh, yet still his measure keeps, Pities the pitiless, and with the weeper weeps ; Envy and malice, two twin sisters, he Censuring sings ; then sings of godlike charity ; Of jealousy he sings — that demon dire — He points its poison'd sting, stirs its malignant fire ; His theme he changes, as his numbers move. To wide extremes ; for then he sings of love — Of love, that reigns and rules in high and low estate. With rapture sings ; and then he sings of hate ; V^ainglorious pride, its pomp, its pageantry. He sings; then sings of meagre want and misery; When piety's the theme, then does the poet shine Most like herself, most glorious, most divine. " For ever changing as his theme demands — Now rough, now smooth, contracts and then expands ; With sweeping swell, with gentle flow, is each express'd And sung — the varied passions of the human breast. " From immaterial to material things. The muse inspired can change ; the poet sings How earth created was, with all that it contains. Seas, rivers, mountains, rocks, and woods, and plains ; How all yon nightly orbs with grandeur roll, And gild the concave firmament from pole to pole; How the pale moon receives her borrow'd rays From the full splendour of the sun's bright blaze; 8 THE SPIRIT'S REPLV. Sings of eccentric orbits, where the comet sweeps Swifter than thought, yet its own period keeps ; From hence he bears us on his soaring wings away, To the bright regions of eternal day ; 'I'hen downward bending in his rapid flight. He hurls us swiftly to the realms of night ; And thence returning to the earth again. He sings the tumults of the angry main ; He rolls along the line with echoing sweep. As the fierce tempest thunders through the deep ; When slumb'ring zephyrs sleep on beds of flowers. Then a rich melody of verse he pours. " 'Mid winter's snows, 'raid summer's suns, by turns. As the scenes change, it freezes or it burns. Spring, with her smiles and tears, her sunshine and her showers. Her warbling choristers, her blooming flowers. He welcomes with his song; when golden autumn brings Her choicest fruits, her richest stores, the poet sings The pleasures of the social board, the hospitable feast. The lively sprightly dance, the revel, and the jest. "Amid the whirlwind's sweep he loves to dwell. And with the swelling blast his verses swell ; Roar in the thunder, roll along the storm. And give the vivid lightning's glare and form. " When the wind harp holds converse with the breeze. And whispers harmony through groves and trees. Then is the ethereal soul of poesy most free, T'heu warbles forth her gayest, wildest minstrelsy. THE SPIRIT'S REPLV. 9 "■When weeping Iris, with her sevenfold bow, Spans earth and sky, its gaudy colours glow Through the wide arch; when smiling through her tears. She looks most beautiful, most lovely she appears ; Then sings the poet that bless'd promise given — Earth shall no more be drown'd byjust offended heaven. " When the red meteor, with its lurid glare. Shoots 'thwart the night, amid the frosty air ; The poet sings of dark events, mysterious, dire. Of warfare, bloodshed, famine, flood, and fire. " Music, the boasted charmer of the savage mind. How rude, how wild its notes, if unconfined By the pure laws of soul-enchanting poesy. That modulates and gives its ever varied harmony; Its soften'd cadence, and its sweeping swell, — Is moulded, fashion'd, form'd, by her all-powerful spell. " The battle rages — then the poet glows With martial fire ; he wreathes the hero's brows W^ith victory's laurel : while his recording lays Win for himself the never fading bays. " The victory won, the vanquish'd must submit. And lay the warlike trophies at the victor's feet ; Then smoother numbers does the bard command. While peace and plenty rule the happy land. " From war to peace, from peace the poet sings Of princes, heroes, potentates and kings ; With retrograde progression thence descends From noble to ignoble, till at last he ends With the scourg'd slave, that drags his galling chains In silent sorrow, unreprieved his pains. 10 THE SPIllITS RKPLV. " Whate'er is vast, or what minutely small, He fatlioms, and adapts himself to all — From the small atoms that elude the sight Of purblind man, and only brought to light By microscopic tube, to those vast orbs That roll in space ; to space that all absorbs. Yet is not full, nor fill'd can ever be — Its boundles height, its depth, and its immensity The poet sings : his comprehensive verse Has nothina- left unsung for others to rehearse." She seem'd to pause — she smil'd, as she would own And favour me, — but checking with a frown Her heavenly smile, she in a sterner tone Again began, and thus again went on : — " If, 'midst all these, thou find'st one little spot. Where the all-daring soul of man has ventur'd not; If, 'midst all these, and what thereto belong. Thou find'st one subject unadorned by song; If, 'midst all these thy enterprising mind One undiscover'd track of thought canst find ; If, 'midst all these, one ray of glory dart Across thy mind, and kindle in thy heart. That never yet illum'd a poet's soul. Taught his smooth verse to flow, or rapidly to roll; If, 'midst all these, thou canst discover aught That never yet was fashion'd into thought. From thought to word, from word transfus'd along. Till word, thought, deed, lived in the poet's song ;^ " Then go — I bid thee go— thee liberty T give To win immortal praise ; thy name shall live THE SPIRIT'S REPLV. H Till time's last gasp ; shall shine more glorious, clear. Than ever poet's shone in this terrestrial sphere. " Then sound thy harp, then touch its golden strings. Call Inspiration forth — bid her celestial wings Bear thee away, and elevate thy soul. Where genius soars in spite of all control: Catch from above the bright seraphic flame. And write, with pen of fire, thine everlasting name ! " Begin thy daring flighty new regions to explore; Go, sweep thy lyre in strains unheard before — • The wond'ring world shall worship thee, and spirits shall adore." She ceas'd — gave one ethereal flash of radiant light. Then fled ; and all around was silence, darkness, night ! I woke in sore amaze, — all quench'd the glowing fire^ That dar'd me to attempt to tune the poet's lyre. ! THE FALL OF ALGIERS. PART FIRST. Bright rose the sun o'er Toulon's tow'rs ; O'er dome and palace, fort and quay, O'er frowning- battlement and bay. With fervent, clear, unclouded ray. His richest, brightest radiance pours ; While city, sea, and land, wrapt in his smiles look gay. Then, then, began the grand parade. The awful pomp of war. When France, heroic France, display'd Her noblest chivalry ! While distant nations from afar With anxious, wond'ring, jealous eye. Beheld the bold, adventurous design ; Yet did not dare the glorious rivalry. That bid bright honour's star around thee shine. But envied thee because it all was thine. THE FALL OF ALGIERS. 13 Then, then, began the grand parade, The awful pomp of war. When through the crooked labyrinth of streets Fiow'd deep and strong the living stream Of heroes bold, in marshaled ranks array'd. Towards the pebbled shore, AVhere rolling billows roar, And fret and foam around the anchor'd fleets : While casque, and helm, and buckler gleam Incessant fire beneath the beam Of Sol's resplendent rays : And in a quiv'ring blaze, Along the waving lines the liquid lightning play'd, As trooping onward march'd the splendid cavalcade. The deep-toned trumpet's brazen clang From rank to rank in pealing clarions rang : The sounding boom Of hollow drum Spreads wide o'er sea and land : While through the arch Of triumph, march The legion'd hosts, and cover all the strand. Li"^ht in the breeze the unfurl'd banners dance. Emblems of freedom and heroic France. The prancing steed with flowing mane. Impatient of the curbing rein. With snorting, foaming, trampling pride. Snuffs up the morning breeze. Wafted across the azure seas; 14 THE FALL OF ALGIERS Dares every danger in his fearless might, Bold for the fray, impatient for the fight; Eager to rush amid the battle's carnage tide. Bloodshed and wounds he dares, and death he does deride ! With clatt'ring hoofs and trampling feet. They throng the sea-beat shore ; Paw the loose sands and champ the bit. And listen with delightthebillowsceaseless roar. From rank to rank Their brazen trappings clank, — While restless as they stand. In marshall'd troop and band. The army vast, in beautiful array. With phalanx deep, encircles all the bay. Here friends meet friends, and kindred kindred meet, AVhile joy and sorrow mingle in the train ; With hearty welcomes they each other greet; Then comes the long farewell. That bids the bosom swell. And clouds the sparkling eye. Where dwelt the smiles of joy ; The parting hour is come, the hour of grief and pain. For thousands parting there shall never meet again ! How beautiful the sight Of such a noble host. Before the battle fight In dire confusion lost; THE FALL OF ALGIEUS. 15 Before the demon war Upon his crimson car, Unfurls the banners drench'd in purple gore ; Bids the red sword walk naked through the land, Feasting on slaughter, like a glowing fiery brand ; While carnage, death, and fire, the murd'rous cannons pour, Deaf'ning all cries and groans with fulminating roar. Issues then the strict command — Quick embark, and leave the strand ! Away, away ! to boat, to boat ! Rank and file, and troop and band. O'er the rippling billows float; "Where, safe at anchor, tow'ring o'er the tide. In majesty serene the stately war-ships ride. All embark'd and safe on board With living cargoes fraught. And deadly ballast stored ; Then, then, with quick dispatch. All stow'd in hold or under hatch, Fleet, convoy, craft, are speedily unmoor'd. Anchors weigh'd and sails unfurl'd. While streaming pennons quiv'ring curl'd. And danc'd above the sea ; Then each freighted fuU-rigg'd ship. Like some huge genius of the deep. Awakes to life and energy : 16 THE FALL OF ALGIERS. To lifo awakes and spreads her win^s;' With eagle speed and swift career. She shoots the narrow circling- bay ; Leaves home and all that home holds dear; Bounds o'er the sea her wide and wat'ry way. While round her curving prow the hissing- spray she flings. Away, away, away, she bears Before the sounding breeze ; Th' unerring pilot stedfast steers Across the roaring, rolling seas. To make the far-fam'd fort and bay. The fort and bay Algiers ! Five times ten war-ships o'er the main. With all their warlike stores. With all their numerous floating- train. Leave Fi-ance's fertile land for Afric'sdesertshores: For Afric's sultry clime. For Afric's barb'rous coast; Where rapine, blood, and crime. Become the tyrant's boast ; The pirate's ruftian boast, the pirate's bloody deed ; Where Christian captives feel The scourge, the rack, the wheel ; No groans nor sighs avail, not pity's self can plead. Where savage pirates rule, and Christian captives bleed ! Floating on the azure sea. The grand, the awful pageantry. THE FALL OF ALGIERS. 1/ With tow'riiig mast and swelling sail, Ikjoms nobly on before the gale. To glorious victory I Onward, onward, onward bears The mighty fleet of war ; Southward, southward, southward steers From Toulon's bay to bay Algiers, The fearful pride of France ; Of France the pride, the pow'r : — With lightning quiv'ring glance. With thunder pealing roar, The gathering war-storms onward roll,. With irresistible control. The awful vengeance of their wrath to pour On Afric's savage brood, on Afric's barb'rous shore. That was a day of Gallic Toulon's pride. When o'er the swelling, bounding tide. Their country's valiant sons to conquest sent Across the treach'rous, trackless element. With swelling sail, And prosp'rous gale. Prompt at their country's call they joyful went. To fight their country's foes : — The foes to freedom, foes to commerce too ; A fierce, unciviliz'd, unletter'd crew; Oppos'd to arts, to sciences oppos'd ; In the dark mists of ignorance enclos'd ; To Christian truths the foe, the deadly foe. Which, with blind bigot zeal, he labours to o'erthrow, B Ig THE FALL OF ALGIERS. Five times ten thousand generous souls, Enclos'd within the safe protecting holds. And tow'ring bulwarks strong ; With glitt'ring arms they crowd the deck. The holds and cabins throng ; With courage bold they man the shrouds ; The swelling breeze the spreading canvass crowds. And wafts them swift along. A nobler fleet ne'er swept the ocean flood. To punish that rebellious pirate host: Save only one, whose prowess none withstood, 'Twas England's own, 'twas England's glorious boast. When gallant Exmouth, with his conq'ring fleet. Through the strong ramparts of the pirate broke ; Driven back from fort to fort, with sore defeat. The cringing tyrant yields, and trembling at the feet Of British tars he kneels, and yields to British oak. And supplicates the power he dared before provoke. Bear, bear them on, thou rolling, roaring sea j Bear, bear them on thy liquid bosom free; Bear, bear them on, ye winds, with pinions fleet; Bear, bear them to the pirate's strong retreat: Ye winds, ye waves, bear, bear them on ; Then, gallant Frenchmen, then. The rest, the rest is yours ! Catch, catch the tyrant in his pirate's den; Swift from his charnel lair The bloody monster tear; THE FALL OF ALGIERS. 19 Chastise the savage prowling brood. Whose food is slaughter, and whose drink is blood ! Set, set the captive free ! Give life, give liberty ! With your victorious sword. The sword of victory ! Light on the desert waste the patriot's holy fire; Plant freedom's standard on that hostile shore ; Bid slavery cease, bid piracy expire. Bid slave and pirate there exist no more ! PART SECOND. Dense roU'd the fog o'er Algiers' bay; O'er batt'ry, fort, and towers. It drizzling, darkling lowers ; Casting its misty veil around. It slowly creeps along the ground. And rests upon the sea. Deep, dark, and dense, the vapours sleeping lay. Veiling with their dim mystery The ocean's swelling wave. And the proud bark that ocean billows brave : Yet as the sun rose high, and brighter shone the day, The glowing blaze. The piercing rays. Of Sol's increasing power, DispcU'd the cloud-mist shower: b2 20 THE FALL OF ALGIERS. The sultry breeze Swept o'er the seas. And bore the drifting mist upon its wings away. Then burst upon the sight. Amid the blaze of light. Woods, rocks, and hills, forts, turrets, town, and bay. And the wide ocean in its measureless display. When from the brow of morn The misty veil was drawn, And ocean roll'd her waves in majesty serene; Full to th' astonish'd view Of Afric's swarthy crew, Turk, Arab, Jew, Corsair, and Algerine, Broke the dread splendour of the awful scene ! Far on the blue horizon's verge. Where mingles sky with ocean surge, Sail'd crowding on, with motion fleet, A warlike, strange, and unknown fleet : Onward, onward, swift they bore. While ev'ry sail Swell'd to the gale. And bore them on to Afric's sandy shore. Nearer still and nearer drew The foremost of the train While distant ones appear'd in view. Succeeding those before; Still onward, onward, on they bore. Landward steering on amain. Piloting those that yet behind remain : THE FALL OF ALGIERS. 21 More numerous yet the fleet increasing grew, Till the wide surface of the deep they strew. And cover all the main ! Then, then, Algiers, With guilty fears. Thou trembling saw, thou trembling felt. Thy awful doom was near ; Yet still with barb'rous courage steePd, Thy trembling tyrant luU'd his fear. Though at the conq'ror's feet he once before had knelt. Yet forward, forward, on his wild career. Too proud (o supplicate, too proud to yield. He stood determin'd like the mountain rock. To brave the bursting tempest's awful shock; To guard his plunder'd treasure from th' invader's power ; To guard his bloody pirate's gloomy hold ; And by one vig'rous effort, prompt and bold, Defend his threaten'd town by rampart, fort, and tower. Then with his mercenary force Of infantry and horse. To meet th' invaders in the battle field ; To fight, to conquer — make th' invader fly. Or craving, supplicate, submissive yield : To fight, to conquer — or to fall and die ; Or doom their Christian foes to chains and slavery. Like some fell monster of the forest plain. Roused from his charnel lair — b3 22 THE FALL OF ALCIERH. Roused from the banquet of his victim slain. With howls and yells he fills the ambient air : So the fierce Dey, Whom all obey. With gnashing teeth and rolling- eyes, With thund'ring voice aloud he cries : " To arms, to arms, to arms ! Spread wide the loud alarms ; To all, to all, to all. Blow shrill the warrior's call ! Bid Barca's sons appear. With quiver, bow, and spear ! The Arab wild, hid in his deserts far, Blow, blow the trumpet loud, and call him to the war ! From Lybia's scorching sands, Call, call the warrior bands j While Tunis' warlike host Guards well the threaten'd coast : And, valiant Turkman, thou. Be it thine to overthrow Those Infidels, who dare With faithful warriors war ! Draw, draw the glitt'ring sword ! The scabbard throw away : Drench, drench it deep in blood. Amid the battle fray ! Algiers and Tripoli, With strong arm'd warrior band. These fierce Giaours defy. And firmly make a stand ! THE FALL OV ALGIERS. 23 Wield, wield courageously the flashing scimitar. And foremost rush amidst the threat'ning war ! " Unfurl the banners all ! Man, man the rampart wall : Let the bright crescent shine, The true, the holy sign ! Alia is great, and wise, and just — In him we put our trust : Mohamed is our Prophet true, He'll fight for us, and conquer too ! Then onward, on — no more delay ; Haste, ye warriors, haste away. To horse, to horse ! to arms, to arms ! Wider spread the loud alarms ! The Christian foes appear. The Christian dogs are near : On, warriors on— Mohamed leads the way : Victory is yours, or Paradise to-day ! See, see the sacred banner now again unfurl'd. Destined once more. As it has been before, Drench'd deep in hostile gore. To wave triumphant o'er a conquer'd world ! Then, warriors bold, advance, advance ; Let vengeance on the Infidels be hurl'd ; And crush the haughty pow'r of proud invading France!" 24 THE FALL OF ALGIEUS. PAllT THIKD. Safe mooi'd at last. And anchor'd fast. Within a shtlt'ring bay ; The war-ships' voyaging is o'er, — They've gain'd at length the long-sought shore. Where, free from storms, the fleets reposing lay. Then, then they land. The warlike band. The chivalry of France ! They tow along the shores The military stores. And drag the pond'rous guns upon the yielding sand. Along the sea-wash'd beach. Above the billows' reach. Strong mounds of earth erect. From pilf ring hordes and pirates to protect : They plant the battery ; Till the wide scatter'd host in firm array. With phalanx deep, courageously advance To meet the battle fray ; While o'er the busy, animating scene. Where slavery had been. The unfurl'd banners dance. The banners of heroic France, The banners of the free ! THE FALL OF ALGIERS. 25 Then with the op'ning dawn. The trumpet's clang salutes the rising morn ; And marshall'd troops in battle's stern array, March boldly on to meet the bloody fray. 'Mid scorching sands Courageously they wade ; To cheer the drooping bands, Bold martial music's play'd. While noble Bourmont leads the dangerous way. Through ravine deep. Abrupt and steep ; Through defile pass, and mountain gorge ; O'er rock, and fell, and crag, they urge Resistless still their way ; While Arab, Turk, and Algerine, With dark mask'd murd'rous mounds between. Upon the crested hills are seen. Like wild wolves set at bay ! Fighting, battling, on they go, Pursuing still the slow-retreating foe. O'er fragment rocks, abrupt and steep. O'er shelving crags they climb and leap. Through gullies narrow, dark, and deep. They march and battle on ; While nature's rugged barriers seem in vain To oppose and bar the way. All obstacles o'ercorae, at last they gain The mountain's crested brow. And find a spacious elevated plain. While far behind them rolls the azure main ; 26 THE FALL OK ALGIERS. And deep and far below The fleet at anchor lay. Secure within the bay : Before them bursts a splendid and unusual show : For while the sun shed sultry splendour o'er the day. They see, with glad surprise. And joyful, wond'ring eyes. An army vast drawn up to stop their further way. In gorgeous trappings drest,and glitt'ring bright array. With oriental pomp, Ostentatiously array'd. The rude barbaric host, Afric's safeguard, pride, and boast ; And Afric's tyrants too, A fierce and bloody crew; Beyond the palm trees' twinkling shade The coming onset staid : With open front and closed ranks. Deep phalanx'd wings, and guarded flanks, A grand yet threat'ning aspect now they wear. Hoping, vain hope ! to strike the foe with fear. By all their martial pomp and splendid war parade ; Yet by the very deed were their own fears betray'd. The turban'd Turk, in tunic drest. And all his glitt'ring warlike vest Gleams forth with dazzling show ; The sable Moor, with fiery pride. On his fieet Barbarv horse does ride, THE FALL OF ALGIERS. 2/ With sabre, shield, and bow ; ' The Arab wild, on untam'd steed. O'er the sands with lightning's speed From the desert's deep recess. Fearless, forward on does press To meet th' invading foe : While Algiers, Tunis, Tripoli, With matchlock, dirk, and scimitar, Join'd to the countless hosts of Barbary, Unite their vagrant bands, and mingle in the war. Rank faces rank, opposing lines oppose, And Europe's florid sons front Afric's swarthy foes : Yet warlike France stands single in her might. Defies the barb'rous hordes, and dares them to the fight. Yet ere the battle close. And foemen grapple foes ; Yet ere the cannons' roar Their death-discharges pour; The wild barbaric host. Whose valour melts to vaunting show and boast. Hurl the light lance from far. Yet keep aloof, nor mingle in the war ; They skirmish in the van. Where singly man encounters man ; Then sudden wheeling fly, they scatter all around; In broken corps d ispers'd they strew the distant ground ; They fly, they fly confused, defeated by their fears. Like to the timid flock when the wild wolf appears ! 28 THE FALL OF ALGIERS, On, gallant Frenchmen, on — The battle's won, the battle's won, Before the fight's begun ; They fly, they fly ! On, Frenchmen, on — to victory ! Trust not too far. Ye valiant sons of France; This new and unknown war Will not be won by chance : Press boldly on. Nor struggling dare pursue; Compact and firm press on. Or Europe's valour Afiic's war may rue, And France's bleaching bones her parcliing deserts strew. The swift retreating foes A formidable front again oppose: With full career they now advance. Then check the foaming steed. And bend th' elastic bow ; They shoot the barbed reed. And lay their foemen low; Then hurl the quiv'ring lance. Whose flight is as the lightning's glance ; Then flash their sabres bright. And still prolong the fight ; Then charge with all their force. While' horse encounters horse. THE FALL OF ALGIERS. 29 And mutual slaughter strews th' ensanguin'd field : ' Then wheel vvitli feigned fright. And fly with feigned flight, They quit the bloody fray, yet quitting do not yield. See, see, again they corae, with whirlwind wild career. Their carbines fire With vengeful ire. Then hurl with deadly aim the quiv'ring spear. And in confusion wild as erst they came retire ! Again they fight, again retreat. Nor seem to suflfer from defeat ; Again they fly, again advance. And wield the sword, and hurl the lance ; They fighting fly, yet flying will not yield; Give ground, retreat, yet never quit the field ! Cool and collected in their aim. When the wild troopers thund'ring came. The French kept up a hot incessant fire. And hundreds fall, and falling there expire ! While o'er the intersected plain The loud artillery sweeps. And falling squadrons mingle with the slain. While mangled carnage swells the slaughter'd heaps ! Yet, yet they battle on. And ever and anon They change the battle field. And brave the fray once more, As oft in vain they braved the fray before. 30 THE FALL OF ALGIERS. With desp'rate zeal they fought, yet knew not how to yield ; They fought and struggled well. For on that day ten thousand fought and fell : Still, still as they retreat. Nor wait for a defeat. Close following, step by step, with eager, firm advance. The conq'ring troops press on of bold chivalric France! PART FOURTH. All opposition overthrown. All obstacles o'ercome. With legion'd hosts they now begirt the town. And trembling Lybia fears her coming doom : Yet as a last resource. With concentrated force. With batteries, forts, and mines. They once again oppose Their persevering foes. From rampart, fort, and battle-tower. Their hottest vengeance down they pour On France's close besieging lines ; With savage courage, by despair urg'd on. They frantic, desp'rate fight, for hope and fear are gone. THE FALL OF ALGIER?. 3l When the fierce, prowling- tiger, hunted to his den. And Fous'd to savage madness by his foe. Collects his awful strength for one tremendous blow, Fearless alike of dogs, and spears, and shouting men ; With deep and threat'ning growl. With strong convulsive howl. He opens wide his dark terrific jaws. And grinds his blood-stain'd fangs ; Death giving tort'ring pangs; His rolling eyes flash gleams of fire. And from his velvet paws He unsheaths his talon'd claws. While froth and foam he churns with burning ire ; Then crouch'd upon his charnel lair, His whole collected force he does prepare For the last fatal spring That death or liberty will bring : — So the proud Dey the conq'ring foe defies ; Thrice beaten in the field. He still resists to yield ; Quick to his den he flies. And once again he tries, 'Mid turrets, towers, and walls, a safe protecting shield. To dare the warlike power that drove him from the field. Then opens wide and deep The dread tornado of convulsive war. With its loud bursting overwhelming sweep. That might the war-fiend from his carnage scare !^ 32 THE FALL OF ALGIERS. By sea and land the tempest threat'ning lowers, Then the red lightning of its vengeance pours ; Swift through the air the thund'ring volleys fly. And clouds of smoke and fire envelop all the sky ! By sea, the war-ships in a battle tier, Moor'd stem to stern in firm array. With threat'ning aspect intersect the bay ; Within the cannons' ranging sweep Their station'd distances they keep, Man ev'ry port, and open all their fire ! On battery, fort, and tow'r A fierce broadside they pour ; And through the leaguer'd town They shower destruction down : While Turk and Algerine, Behind their rampart screen. Behold their homes, their all destroy'd By the fierce bloody fray ; Their wives, their little ones all swept away, Or mangled, bleeding, and expiring lay. While all beside is dark despair and ruin's dreary void ! Then, then the rampart wall At ev'ry loud broadside. Opes cracks and fissures wide. And trembling vibrates from side to side; While round them ev'ry where the ruin'd fragments fall. And devastation reigns that savage Turks appal ! THE FALL OF ALGIERS. 33 Five hundred batteries along the shore. Tier mounted above tier. Through dark embrasures menacing appear. In awful, dread array. The guardians of the bay ; At the prompt signal word. With simultaneous accord. From castle, rampart, mole, and tower, Peal'd forth in one terrific thund'ring roar; While from their brazen mouths incessant pour A cataract of balls ; And the fierce iron tempest shower. Tremendous and terrific, falls Upon the war ships' decks. With furious, overwhelming blasts. And through the splinter'd timbers breaks. And sweeps away the masts. While gushing waters bubble through the leaks. Swift as the lightning's stroke. They rend the solid oak ; Burst to the holds beneath. And do the work of death : Like some malignant fury round they maddening go. Dealing, where'er they come, th' insidious fatal blow ; Implacable in ill. Still seeking whom to kill. Through ribs of oak they break, through bulwarks strong they tear. While blood and slaughter mark the murderous career. 34 THE FALL OF ALGIERS. By land the conq'iing army comes. Like the proud eagle darting on her prey ; With awful front, and wide out-stretching wings. By Algiers' recreant crew no longer kept at bay. They clasp with threat'ning stern embrace Algiers and all her pirate race. Their bristling steel-plum'd wings, Loud as the thunder peal That makes the mountains reel. Tremendous and terrific rings Within the startled ears Of trembling Algiers, And ev'ry heart appals ! The threat'ning front, in terrible array. Swift as the lightning falls. Loud thund'ring at her walls. Strikes ev'ry soul with sore dismay ; While France's eagle hovers o'er her prey. With eager eye, to strike the crescent down. Her buoyant pinions clap O'er the devoted town. For round her close beleaguer'd walls Their eagle banners flap : While strong circumvallated lines, With secret excavated mines. And open batteries planted well. That ev'ry ball may tell ; With howitzer, mortar, culverin. In many a formidable row ; THE FALL OF ALGIERS. 35 Charg'd with exploding, burning, conflagrating balls. That murder, fire, massacre, where'er they fall — A blazing tempest hiirl'd within the rampart walls ! To win the leaguer'd town, or lay it low, Turk, Algerine, and pirate to o'erthrow ; Fort, city, citadel, and all. In one convulsive overwhelming fall ! Within the city's close sieg'd walls. The Dey a momentary council calls; Around him throng his warrior bands. To give and to receive commands : Then, with fierce, burning ire. They sullenly retire. To execute their half concocted plans ; Prompted by rage and scorn to strike a desp'rate blow. The invaders to o'erthrow, Or with their foes to fall amid the carnage fire ! No more the spear is hurl'd. No more the arrow thrown — The sable flag unfurl'd. Waves o'er the bloody town : No more the sabre gleams as on the battle field, [wield; For vengeance, dreadful vengeance, mightier engines Deep have they quaflf'd the crimson draught of war. And deeper yet the deadly dregs they dare ; Fiercer and firmer still they clench the cup. Their madd'ning fury in its floods to drown ; For their hot blood is bubbling, boiling up. And death, and death alone, can cool it down ! c 2 36 THE Fx\LL OF ALGIERS. Firmly, yet eagerly they wait The certain doom of fate ; Yet fiery passions kindle discontent, And desperation will not brook restraint; Their smother'd fury at last gives vent. And vengeance, raging vengeance, bursts. Like iEtna's fires th' obstructing lava crusts. Long smouldering in its marble caverns pent; Then the whole deluge pours. In thund'ring fiery showers; And on the foe With overwhelming blow The flaming torrents of the hot eruption's sent ! And while the tempest lasts, The scorching fiery blasts Not France's utmost skill can shield Their ranks upon the battle field. Or their superior fire th' opposing fire prevent. From battery, fort, and battlement. The silent, death-fraught signal went. The signal to destroy ; Then the fierce Houssan saw the flash. And heard the loud exploding crash. With smiles of fiendish joy : Before the dreadful slaughtering fire. The French he saw confused retire Behind their rampart lines. Then, then he thought the day was won. He saw the foe for shelter run. And urg'd his warriors on : THE FALL OF ALGIERS. 3/ Each warrior to his fellow calls, "Charge, charge with haste — ram firm the balls I" Then, then once more The thund'ring volleys roar ; The fierce bombarding from th' embattled walls ; The mines exploding. Cannonading, Firing, firing, quick reloading. Disgorging flames and death On all around, above, beneath. Where'er the raging tempest falls : Belching forth, with loud explode, Chain'd pond'rous iron balls. Like coupled bloodhounds thirsting after blood ! Smiting the lines of France's glitt'ring pride. Fierce through the troops they thund'ring rush. Where'er they come the purple torrents gush ; Mowing them down on ev'ry side. They fall beneath the slaughtering sweep, While death and war enleagu'd the bloody harvest reap. Like unrelenting furies they roll the crimson tide. Deluge the field with blood and spread the carnage wide ! On, Frenchmen, on — Man ev'ry gun — Let the loud volleys of the cannon fly ; Let every ball Be levell'd at the wall. And wooden walls the walls of stone defy ! Wider tear the yawning breach, The prize is just within your reach ; c 3 38 THE FALL OF ALGIERS Dismount tlieir cumb'rousj pond'rous guns. Hurl tlieni headlono' in the sea, Blast the mole with powder bombs, Sweep the ramparts wide and free : Plug their cannons with your balls. Batter and o'erthrow their walls ; Blow the fort and ramparts up, Silence their artillery ! Make the stubborn tyrant bow. Make him kneel, or lay him low — On, Frenchmen, on to victory ! Noble Rossamel, valiant Bourmont, Yours the envied, great preferment; Let the land and let the sea Strive for glorious rivalry ! Sailors, fight and win the town — Soldiers, bring the pirate down — Honour's yours, and deathless fame — Yours an everlasting name ! Fight, Frenchmen fight, and Afric shall be free — Honour and fame are yours, and glorious victory ! Algiers, Tunis, Tripoli ! War is the game ye play : Your kingdom is the stake. And foemen cast the die ! Defend it bravely, or defending fall ; Desp'rate the sacrifice you now must make. And for your country nobly hazard all ! Fight, fight that ye may live, — or fighting die : Fight for the land that gave you birth. THE FALL OF ALGIERS. 39 The dearest, best loved spot on earth ! Call up your courage, call your ancient fame. When barb'rous Europe trembled at your name! With all your force oppose Your formidable foes : Burn and destroy their fleet ; Chase, chase them from your walls vpith sore defeat: Where'er their balls, their bullets fly. Let all your batteries, all your forts reply ; With thundering roar. Along the land, along the shore. Your cannonading pour; Terrific and tremendous open all your fire ; Let every Frenchman for an Afric die ; Stand firm, and France and all her hosts defy ; Let Afric win the war, or in its flames expire I By sea and land the murd'rous war is waged. Revenge and honour those, and these for life ; Like fellest, furious monsters o'er their prey engaged, Desp'rate the deadly feud, the sanguinary strife! Algiers and France each other keep at bay. While slaughter wallows in the bloody fray. At every point beset. And round about enclos'd ; At every point they're met, And valiantly oppos'd : France in her pride determines to break in, And city, forts, and ramparts win ; Algiers as firm resolves to keep them out. To fire their fleets, and put their foes to rout. 40 THE FALL OV ALGIERS. From port to port, from tower to tower they run. Charge, level, point, and fire the murdering gun ! Each deep-mouth'd cannon's loud exploding breath Breathes thunder, lightning, massacre, and death ! While conflagrating balls. Incessant bursting o'er the walls. Like fiery meteors fall, O'erthrowing, burning, and destroying all ! Like hailstones thick the balls and bullets pour; The ships grow dizzy with the loud uproar; Algiers grows faint — she can hold out no more! The air, the sea, the dread explosions shake ; The fierce concussions cause the earth to quake : While battery answers battery thundering round. Hills, rocks, and woods, re-echo back the sound ! 'Mid the hot fiery fray there was a sudden pause — The murdering war stood still. Slaughter forgot to kill. Yet none explain'd the cause. It was as if the bloody demon war, Shock'd at the horrid deed. Had from the field of carnage fled. And left the living gazing on the dead ; And bitterest foes were sudden reconcil'd, Wliile treach'rous peace o'er the wide carnage smil'd. Truce waved not her fair flag Above the hostile lines, Nor did the battle lag ; Yet paus'd the war awhile. With dark suspicious guile. THE FALL OF ALGIERS. 41 To prime her hidden mines I Then war again her gory plumes unfurl'd. It was a mutual and instinctive pause. Like the dread boding calm. When nature's secret yet unerring laws, 'Mid sunny smiles, the awful earthquakes arm With their tremendous, overwhelming power. To swallow ocean floods, to gulp the mighty main, Sinkmountains in the deep, tomountains raise the plain; Bid dark volcanoes belch the fiery shower ; While devastation through the land is hurl'd, [world ! That rends the solid rocks, and shakes the trembling 'Tis done ! 'tis done ! Algiers is lost, Algiers is won ! The mine, the mine is fir'd ! With one exploding crash. With one broad quiv'ring flash. The earthquake rending shock The triple barriers broke. And all in smoke expir'd ! Turks, Algerines, artillery great and small, Forts, ramparts, towers, citadel, and wall. In one dark, dense, chaotic heap. Are hurl'd with irresistless sweep, 'M id pond'rous fragments as they fly. Aloft careering up the sky, O'ershadowing all below With its dark threat'ning canopy ! Then down descending in its ruin fall, Destroving, crushing, overwhelming all ! 42 THE FALL OF ALGIERS. Deep echoed the loud peal Along the trembling shore. With fulminating roar. While rocks and mountains nod and reel ! Far o'er the desert, wid'ning as it flew. More deep, more loud the rattling thunder grew; While mighty whirlwinds at the shock, arise. And sweep the billowy sand Along the burning land, That hid the sun from view, and darken'd all the skies ! Yet, yet careering on with lightning speed. The loud volcanic shock that Afric freed, In pealing thunder trumpets to the world. While freedom's banner on her shores unfurl'd. Confirms the glorious sound that Afric now is free, — Free as her whirlwind blast, and as her rolling sea ! The Nile, the Niger, heard the sound. And from their secret source profound. Where freedom's footsteps never yet With their mysterious fountains met. Approving hail'd the glorious deed That Afric from her thraldom freed ; Their gladsome waters smiling roll,d. Rejoicing on their way, Beneath the blazing eye of day. Through lands enslav'd by barb'rous man. Where man was barter'd, bought, and sold. Their course of freedom now they ran. O'er glitt'ring beds of ductile gold ! THE FALL OF ALGIERS. 43 Throutili flowery regions, bright and fair. Through burning deserts, scorch'd and bare. They roli'd rejoicing on, and Afric's freedom sang, AVhile thro' all lands, all states, the gladsome echo rang I Far, far aloft, amid the azure skies. Where towering hills sublimely rise. The snow-crown'd Atlas felt th' electric shock; Through all his cloud-veil'd regions grand. That the fell chain of bondage broke. Unloosed the shackle and the yoke. And freedom stamp'd upon his groaning land ! The shock he feels, the thund'ring echo hears. The voice of freedom, and thy fall, Algiers ! His hoary head in solemn grandeur bows. And smiles approval 'mid eternal snows I Arise, bright sun of righteousness. The world illume, the heathen bless With thy celestial smile ! Shine o'er their dismal threefold night. Illume their souls with heavenly light. From Gambia to the Nile ! From the far southern Cape of storms. Where foul idolatry the soul deforms. To Algiers' northern bay. Emancipate this deep degraded race ; Let thy bright intellectual ray Their fetter'd minds release from error's foul disgrace ! 44 THE FALL OF ALGIERS. Freed from the irksome gall Of man's inhuman thrall ; Freed from the chains of slavery — Break, break the triple yoke. The strongest bond that ever yet was broke; Break, break the bonds of dark idolatry ! Then Afric shall be free From shore to shore. From sea to sea. And slave and slavery be no more. While all with one accord shall one true God adore ! When body, soul, and mind are free. Then is thy triumph full, O glorious, deathless. Liberty ! Then Afric's freeborn sons shall come. And sacrifice to thee. Bright sun of righteousness ! Then hand in hand. With smiling peace, Through the glad land. Shall knowledge, commerce, sciences increase; While gospel truths shall herald on the way. And turn dark error's night to glorious day ; The desert then shall smile and bloom, A fruitful garden shall the wilderness become. And happy Afric be the Christian's home ! NOTES TO THE FALL OF ALGIERS. When gallant Eimouth, with his conq'nng fleet. Through the strong ramparts of the pirate broke. Page 18, line 14. While the author has been feebly attempting to picture forth, in irregular verse, the glorious result of the French expedition against Algiers, he hopes the reader wiU readily approve of the following long prose extract, by way of note, which he has inserted here as a parallel, or even superior instance, of British courage and valour, and of its irresistible and tremendous power in war ; and had Lord Exraouth had an army on land to have seconded his bril- liant exploits by sea, there is every reason to suppose that the French would not have had occasion, in 1830, to have fitted out a fleet and army for its capture, as it would, in all probability, have been at this time a colony de- pendent on Great Britain. In the year IBIG, a British fleet, under Lord Exmouth, effected the total destruction of both the Algerine fleet and the batteries which protected the harbour, and compelled the humbled Dey to submit to the terms imposed upon him : which were, the abolition of Christian slavery in the kingdom of Algiers, &c. Of this memorable expedition, wehavean interesting narrative, drawn up by the interpreter who attended the British Admiral. " The extent to which the whiteslave trade was carried on by the Algerines, had long reflected deep disgrace upon the European powers, who had tamely suffered so atrocious a system of piracy to be persisted in by a petty barbarian state, without making any united or earnest effort to put it down. At length the government of this country interposed, and Admiral Lord Exmouth ap- peared with a large fleet before Algiers. A flag of truce was sent in, bearing letters for the Dey from the British Admiral, containing the demands which were, after the bombardment, acceded to by him. It was intimated that an answer must be returned in two or three hours. In the mean time, a breeze springing up, the fleet advanced into the bay, and lay to at about a mile from Algiers. The Admiral's ship (the Queen Charlotte) passed through all the enemy's batteries without firing a gun, and to the utter astonishment of the natives, took up a position within 1(10 yards from the mole head batteries ; upon which (says Mr. Salami) we gave them three cheers. The batteries, as well as the walls, being crowded with troops, they jumped upon the top of the parapets to look at us ; for our broadside was higher than their batteries, and they were quite surprised to see a three-decker, with the rest of the fleet, so close to them. From what I observed of the Captain of the Port's manner, 46 NOTES TO THE FALL OF ALGIERS. nnd of their confusion inside the mole, (though they were making great pre- parations) I am quite sure that even themselves were not aware what they were about, nor of what we meant to do ; because, according to their judg- ment, they thought that we should be terrified by their fortifications, and not advance so rapidly and closely to the attack. In proof of this I must observe that at this point their guns were not even loaded, and they began to load them after the Queen Charlotte and almost all the fleet had passed their batteries. At a few minutes before three p. m. the Algerines, from the Eastern battery, fired the first shot at the Impregnable, which, with the Superb and the Albion, were astern of the other ships, to prevent them from coming in. Then Lord Exmouth, having seen only the smoke of the gun, before the sound reached him, said, with great alacrity, "That will do, fire my fine fellows s" and I am sure that before his lordship had finished these words, our broadside was given with great cheering, and at the same time the other ships did the same. The fire was so terrible that, they say, more than five hundred persons were killed and wounded by it; and I believe this, because there was a great crowd of people in evei y part, many of whom, after the first discharge, I saw running away, like dogs walking upon their hands and feet." For five hours the Algermes fought extremely well, but they then began to slacken their fire. "At eleven o'clock at night, his Lordship, having observed the destruction of the whole Algerine nav y, and the strongest parts of their batteries, with the city, made signal for the fleet to move out of the line of the batteries ; when our firing ceased, at about half-past eleven. At this time their navy, with the store-houses within the mole, wereburning very rapidly. The blaze illuminated all the bay and the town with the environs, the view of which was really most awful and beautiful; nine frigates, and a great number of gun-boats and other vessels, being all in flames, and carried by the wind to different directions in the bay. It is calculated that nearly 120 tons of powder and more than 500 tons of shot, were expended by the fleet in the nine hours that the attack lasted. The loss of the Algerines is conjectured to have been near eight thousand ; it would have been much more severe had not the greater part of the inhabitants fled from the city before the attack commenced." The following description of the state of the fortifications at the time of the bombardment of Algiers, is given by Mr. Salame : — " On the north side, about a mile from the town, there is a small castle, and several batteries, one after another, and the last is joined to the wall of the city. From this north side they do not fear any thing, because there is not water enough for an- chorage nor for landing. From this wall to the mole there are several bat- teries more, because the mole is situated in the middle of the third part of the city, which is on the sea side. On the north head of the mole there is a semi-circular battery of two tiers of 44 guns, called the Lion's battery, the guns of which bear on the north, on the cast, and on the scuth. After this is another round one of three tiei s, and of 48 guns, in the middle of which is a light-house, and it is called the Lighthouse battery. This is supported by another, a long one, still more strong, of three tiers, containing 66 guns, and called the Eastern battery. This is flanked by four others of two tiers each, one joined to the other, which contain 60 guns directed to the S. E. and S. — On the south head of the mole there are two large sixty-eight-pounders of 20 feet long. One of these in the engagement above related was thrown, with its carriage, into the sea, and the other was knocked off its carriage by a shot in its mouth. Almost opposite, there are on the city side two small batteries of four guns each, followed by a strong one of 20 guns, and a very ancient NOTES TO THE FALL OF ALGIERS. 4/ building situated upon two large arches, through which they pass to the fish market, and they call it the Fish-inarket battery. From this to the south wall of the city there are two batteries more; and fiom that to a distance of about a mile and a half south, there are several other batteries and a large castle. These are the fortifications on the sea side, but the rest of the works round the walls of the city, and the two castles situated upon the hills, were too far for me to observe them well. They say that the whole of their forti- fications mounted 15U0 guns." — Modern Traveller and Notes from Salami. Dense rolVd the fog o'er Algiers' bay. Page 19, line 11. It appears from the statement of an eye witness, that the Algerines were not at all aware of the approach of the French fleet, at the moment when it was actually hovering about their shores. There had been a dense fog all the morning. The Algerines were attending their devotions at their temples, their usual employment, and their diversions, as if nothing was about to happen that in the least concerned them. But, to their great consternation and amazement, when the mist cleared up, they beheld all the sea covered with ships of war, making for shore. With strong arm'd warrior band, These fierce Giaours defy. Page 22, line 28. Giaour — an infidel — an unbeliever — one who disbelieves Mohamed to be the true Prophet — a Christian — a dog. Let the bright crescent shine. The true, the holy sign. Page 23, line 5. Stephens, the geographer, a native of Constantinople says — " Philip of Macedon, father of Alexander the Great, meeting with mighty difficulties in carrying on the siege of Byzantium, took the opportunity of a very dark night to set workmen to undermine the walls, so as to make a breach for the troops to enter the city, without being perceived by the enemy ; but, luckily for the besieged, the moon rising before he could carry his plot into execution, the light discovered to them his design, and ra.-.de it miscarry : in ccmsequence of which they adopted the crescent, or half-moon, as a symbol of worship sacred to the goddess Diana." When the Turks took Constantinople, many centuries afterwards, they also adopted the crescent as a symbol of their religion, and also on their standards of war — in the same manner as the Christians adopted the sign of the cross. Alia is great, and wise, and just — In him we put our triut. Page 23, line 7. Alia is the Deity — the Almighty and omnipotent Jehovah. On, warriors on — Mohamed leads the way: Victory is yours, or Paradise to-day ! Page 23, line 17. The Koran teaches the followers of Mohamed to believe that all who die in the field of battle, figliting for their rc'hgion and their country, go inime- diatelv to Paradise. 48 NOTES TO THE FALL OF ALGIERS. See, see the sacred banner notv again unfarVd, Destined once more, Aa it has been before, Droich'd deep in Iwstile gore, To ivave triumphant o'er a conquer'd world.' Page 23, line 19. The author must be so candid as to inform his readers that he believes he is leading them into a trifling error here, with regard to the sacred standard ; it being kept at Constantinople by the Sultan of the Ottoman and nominally of the Mahomedan empire, and not at Algiers, as here stated in the poem. — The sacred standard was bequeathed by Mohamed to his successor, and from him it descended to the next, and so on, through all the long and illustrious line of Caliphs, with the title of " Commander of the Faithful." On the overthrow of the Caliphate, it came in possession of the Turks, who embraced the faith of Mohamed. The Sultan removed it from Bagdad or Mecca, to Constantinople, where it is carefully preserved amongst the sacred relics in the Seraglio. It is never unfurled except on the most pressing and extraordinary occasions, such as the invasion of their country by an enemy, &c. which, whenever it occurs, the whole Turkish nation are called upon, as a test of their faith and allegiance, to flock to its standard, and to fight beneath its shadow, with that fierce and sanguinary enthusiasm which its sacred presence is supposed to inspire. While Arab, Turk, and Algerine, With dark mash'd murd'rous mounds between. Page 25, line 15. Masked batteries, planted among the hills and defiles, to interrupt and stop the progress of the French array. They fighting fly , yet flying tvill not yield; Give ground, retreat, yet never quit the field! Page 20, line 14. This mode of irregular warfare is and was generally adopted by most of the semi-barbarous states and nations both of ancient and modern times. See the wars of the Tartars, the Cossacks, the Saracens, the barbarous Asiatic tribes, and the ancient Scythians, Numidians, Arabians, &c. &c. Implacable in ill. Still seeking ivhom to kill. Page 33, line 25. The above lines were suggested by reading, in Mariner's Tonga Island, a curious account given by the natives respecting the ideas they entertained of the effect of the cannons used in storming one of their mud forts. " They declared, that when a ball entered a house, it did not proceed straight forward, but went all round the place, as if seeking for men to kill; it then passed out of the house, and entered another, still in search of food for its vengeance ; and so on to a third. Sometimes it would strike the corner post of a house, and bring all down together." The sable flag xmfurVd, Waves o'er the bloody toivn. Page 35, line 18. The black flag is the dismal signal that no quarter will be given to their foes, should they be so unfortunate as to fall into their merciless hands. NOTES TO THE FALL OF ALGIERS. 49 Then the fierce Hotissan saw the flash, And heard the loud exploding craslt. Page 36, line 22. Houssan Bashaw, the deposed Dey, who acceded to the throne in 1818. Noble Rifsamel, valiant Bourmont, Yours this envied, great preferment. Page 38, line 12. Admiral Rossamel and General Bourmont were the commanders of the fleet and the army respectively sent to bombard Algiers. Call up your courage, call your ancient fame , When barb'rous Europe trembled at your name ! Page 39, line 2. When Europe was beginning to emerge from her second night of darkness and barbarism, nearly the whole of Asia, all Northern Africa, Greece, Thrace, Macedonia, a portion of Hungary, and a great part of Spain, were under the go . ernment of Mohamedan princes, during the splendid and mag- nificent career of the Caliphate. "Tis done, tis done! Algiers is lost, Algiers is toon ! - ^ The mine, tlie mine is fired! Page 41, line 13. The Fort of the Emperor, a large and strong castle on the land side of Algiers, was blo\vu up with a terrible explosion, which opened the way for the French army into the city, when the whole of the Dey's immense trea- sures became the spoil of the conqueror, together with 1,5(KI pieces of cannon, and the whole of the Algerine fleet, with the exception of those vessels that had been previously burnt or destroyed. Perhaps it may be useless to state, that, from the first disembarking of the French army on the coast of Africa, to the final overthrow of Algiers, occupied twenty-one days; while Lord Exmouth subdued and nearly destroyed the same city in nine hours ; and had he had an army of twenty thousand men, they might have boon put in pos- session of the pirates' strong hold on the morning following the bombardment. The Nile, the Niger, heard the sound. And from their secret source profound. Page 42, line 17. The Nile and the Niger, two of the most celebrated, the most wonderful, the most mysterious, and the least known of almost any rivers in the world. The Nile, celebrated through all antiquity, and spoken of as a wonderful stream even at the first dawning of recorded history, remains still at the pre- sent hour, for the most part, unexplored. Although Bruce, the celebrated traveller, discovered one of its hidden sources, in the mountain recesses of Abyssinia, yet there are others unknown; and as it has several mouths by which it pours its waters into the sea, so there are several fountains of the Nile from which these mouths .are supplied ; and its most copious and distant one, and doubtless the parent spring, is yet unknown, stretching away its long and dreary course through the boundless deserts of Ethiopia, and approach- ing the very limit of the sun's torrid pathway, as he rolls his burning orb along the equator. 50 NOTES TO THE FALL OF ALGIERS. The Niger, concerning which a great deal has been written, is yet very little known ; so little indeed, that at this very moment it is a matter of doubt and controversy whether it flows east or west ; neither its source nor its termination has yet been discovered. It has only been partially seen by travellers, who have caught a few uncertain glimpses of its sreara flowing majestically beneath the bright glare of a tropical sun. The Niger may be compared to an enormous serpent, glancing and gliding slowly on its serpentine course, among the surrounding jungle and brushwood, while its shining scales twinkle and glitter at intervals through the brake as the sun reflects upon them ; while the startled and trembling traveller, though he hears its rustling noise, and sees its motion, can neither discover its head or tail, or ascertain whether it is moving to the right hand or to the left. f& Since writing the above note, it is a great gratification to state, that the grand qviestion respecting the course of the N iger, which has puzzled geography and literature for many centuries, has at last been determined by British courage and perseverance. The two Landers (brothers) having reached Youri, in central Africa, em- barked in a canoe on the Niger, or, as it is there called, the Quorra, and came down the stream until they reached the sea, in the Bight of Biafra. The branch by which they came to the coast is called the Nun, or Brasse River, being the first river to the eastward of Cape Formosa. While at Youri, they got the prayer book that belonged to Mr. Anderson, the brother-in-law and fellow-traveller of the celebrated Mungo Park. The snow-croivn'd Atlas felt th' electric shock. Page 43, line 7. Mount Atlas — a range of high mountains, whose tops are covered with eternal snow, separate the kingdom of Barbary from the great desert of Sahara. These mountains give the name to the Atlantic Ocean, and also to those books of maps familiarly known as Atlases. Ancient mythology states that Atlas was King of Mauritania (now Algiers^ Morocco, Tripoli, &c.) and that the fable of Atlas bearing the world on his shoulders, arises from his fondness for astronomy, and from his often frequenting elevated places and mountains, whence he might observe the heavenly bodies. After his death these mountains took his name, and were, in consequence of their great elevation, supposed by the ancients to prop up the heavens. THE SHIPWRECKED MA.RINER. 'Mid the bursting of the storm. When the elements deform Nature's sweet and placid rest. Rouse to wrath the ocean's breast ; Then its angry billows curl. Dash and foam, and headlong hurl The devoted bark to death. On the hidden rocks beneath : Thunders roll, and lightnings flash. O'er the wreck the billows dash ; Howling winds and rattling hail Swell the uproar of the gale: Waging then unequal war With the shipwreck'd mariner. Angry surges boil with strife, Gape to snatch his panting life: Like fell messengers of death. Snatch at every gasping breath, d2 52 THE SHIPWRECKED MARINER. On their crested ridges tost, Seems he for a moment lost. Buried in a shroud of snow ! Then he sinks, and down below Witi) tremendous sweep is hurried. In the depths of ocean buried ; Struggling still he gasps for life. Still prolongs the feeble strife ; Surges still with hishing spray Throtig- to take his life avvaj . Toss'd at last upon the beach. Above the highest billow's reach — Exhausted, feeble, weary, spent. Free from the raging element — Unconscious of his fate, he lies O'ercanopied by warring skies. When to life he woke from sleep, Hush'd was the conflict of the deep j O'er the world a kindling beam Stole like a departing dream j Sweet as a cherub waking mild. Blushing morning gaily smil'd; Fill'd was his glad heart with joy. Ecstatic, pure, without alloy. As from his pebbled bed he rose. Forgetful of his vanish'd woes. He bid his thankful heart rejoice; A grateful tribute with his voice He paid to kind o'erruling providence. His only shield and sure defence. THE SHIPWRECKED MARINER. 53 'Mid danger's dark'ning, threat'ning form; Amid the whirlwind and the storm ; Amid the perils of the deep ; Amid the tempest's howling sweep; Amid the elements' commotion. Contending with the angry ocean ; Amid them all his trembling life Triumph'd o'er the threefold strife. By the surging billows tost, Shatter'd, founder'd, shipwreck'd, lost ; All his comrades blithe and brave. Buried in one watery grave, Dash'd at once by one rude shock On the flinty-bosom'd rock ; Yielding timbers op'ning wide. Swallow in the boiling tide : Downward, downward then she goes. Whirling in her dying throes, Crush'd against the craggy shore, Batter'd by the billows' roar. Deep engulph'd she sinks at last. Devoted victim of the blast. One wild cry is heard afar. Amid the elemental war ; Mingling with the thunder's roar, A bubbling groan, then all is o'er ! The gallant ship with all on board. That proudly o'er the billows rode. And seem'd to spurn, with crested prow. The curling waves that danc'd below — D 3 54 THE SHIPWRECKED MARINER. That swiftly sped with swelling sail. In rivalry of the rising gale. Short race, alas ! the angry main Made speed and flight alike be vain ; 'Mid lightning's flash and thunder's roar. She struck, she sunk, to rise no more ! And he alone, of all the crew That gaily o'er the waters flew. In merry mood, and scofF'd at fear. Nor saw, nor dreaded danger near — Alone escap'd th' embattled host. When dash'd half lifeless on the coast; Escap'd alone his fate to tell, Escap'd as by a miracle. With gratitude his heart was fill'd. And sweetly through his bosom thrill'd ; Upon the frowning craggy rock. Where his lost ship receiv'd the shock, To Providence he knelt to pray, Then joyfully pursued his way : No matter where his steps may roam. His heart is present at his absent home, THE MOTHER'S DARLING. Rock'd in the cradle of a motlier's knee. Sweet sleeping babe, how I envy thee. Softly pillow'd on a mother's breast, Like a heavenly cherub taking its rest. The halo of smiles on its dimpled cheek. Seems to speak such things as a seraph might speak ; And while in its golden sleep, it seems To dream such things as an angel dreams ! Softly pillow'd on its mother's breast. Where it lies like a cherub taking its rest; Or rock'd in the cradle of a mother's knee. Sweet smiling babe, how I envy thee ! Ah ! who can smile as that mother smil'd. As she press'd to her bosom her beautiful child ? And who can feel a mother's feeling, So sweetly o'er her bosom stealing. When she look'd at her babe as it lay on her breast, Sleeping, and smiling, and taking its rest ? 56 THE MOTHER'S DARLING, What are the signs, and where is the token. That tells of a love which cannot be spoken ; That dwells in the bosom, that breathes in the sigh ; That reigns in the heart, that smiles through the eye; That lives in each action, that glows on the cheek; That speaks of a love that the tongue cannot speak ? 'Tis a mother's to know, 'tis a mother's to feel. Such a love for her first-born she cannot reveal. When she hears her sweet infant attempting to speak. Or assists its first footsteps yet feeble and weak. The tread of a queen in her stateliest grace. To the staggering steps of her darling gives place ; All music is dull, unmeaning, and wild. To the first broken words of the prattling child ; Enraptur'd she hears the sweet sound of its voice. It thrills through her bosom, and bids her rejoice ; She tempts it to talk, she woos it to move. Then repays its weak efforts by kisses of love; She snatches it up in a transport of bliss. And plants on its forehead the seal of a kiss. With the eyes of a parent she views ev'ry feature. Then kisses again her dear innocent creature ; Through the vista of years she endeavours to scan The far distant period that crowns him a man. See him now a sprightly youth. Fair as innocence and truth, Ueauteous as the first-born ray That heralds in the rising day ; THE MOTHER'S DARLING. ;j/ Lovely as the rose's bloom. Blushing amidst its own perfume ; Circled in smiles, as if by stealth, Painting his cheeks sits blooming health ; The sunshine of his laughing eye Ne'er yet was clouded by a sigh ; His guiltless, unsuspecting heart Ne'er yet felt care's corroding smart : In Spring's gay robes for ever drest. Sweet smiling hope dwells in his breast; No keen remorse his thoughts employ. But all is happiness and joy ! Ah ! could this sweet delusion last. How rich the gift, the boon how vast, To live a life of golden hours. To spend his days 'mid thornless flow'rs. Where cloudless suns for ever shine, And gild the prospect all divine. While endless, rolling years would bring A deathless, ever blooming spring ; And age, and death, and slow decay Would sink and vanish all away : And youth, with all its winning grace. Its blushing and its smiling face, The laughing dimple on its cheeks. That things unutterable speaks. Would live, and bloom, as onward roll'd The stream of time, and ne'er wax old ; But growing still, grow young again : The wish, the hope, the thought how vain ! 58 THE MOTHER'S DARLING. For who was ever yet made free From th' immutable decree. Which gave to age and slow decay To steal the bloom of youth away. And wrote this sentence through the sky. That " man is only born to die ; Man while on earth is made to mourn — Man is but dust, to dust shall man return !" And where is the youth with the bloom on his cheek. Where is the youth whose eye seem'd to speak, Like the smiles of the morn a bright rising day ? Where is he ? Alas ! he has vanished away ! Where is he — ah, where ? He is gone from my sight. The joy of his mother, her pride and delight! Where is he now ? ah, where has he gone ? Her first dearest gift, and her only one. Behold he is laid on the pillow of death ! And the angels are watching to catch his sweet breath ; While seraphs of light from above are descending. To watch the sick couch, by turns are attending ; Around him they hover, and wait (when he dies) To waft his pure innocent soul to the skies ! And what is that form that is bending o'er him, And who is she that is kneeling before him. And why is that tear and that heart-bursting sigh ? Ask a mother — a mother will give the reply : For who but a mother could heave such a sigh ? And wherefore that glance and that look of despair? Who is it that merits such fondness and care ? THE MOTHER'S DARLING. 59 Behold where he lies ! then question no more — See how pale is the cheek that was crimson'd before — Then say, is it sin if a mother adore ? What are the signs, and where is the token. That tells of a grief that cannot be spoken; That heaves in the bosom, that breathes in the sigh ; That swells in the heart, that streams through the eye ; That lives in each action, that dwells on the cheek ; That speaks of a grief that the tongue cannot speak ? 'Tis a mother's to know, 'tis a mother's to feel. Such anguish and grief as she cannot reveal. When the child of her hopes, in its loveliest bloom. Is snatch'd from its sports to the verge of the tomb. Each charm that endear'd him is gone in an hour. And blasted and dead ; like a beautiful flow'r. Struck off from its stem, unconscious it lies. Breathing its sweetest perfume as it dies ! She weeps and she prays, as o'er him she bends ; She watches by night, by day she attends At his bed, to soothe and to comfort her care ; Her grief and her love, and all the fond mother is there. O'er her boy she lingering stands. Mourns, and sighs, and wrings her hands. The stagnant tear forbids to flow. Yet speaks unutterable woe : Then her overwhelming grief Finds a sudden, short relief. From a flood of rolling tears. Anxious hopes and trembling fears 60 THE MOTHER'S DAULING. Her sorrowing soul possess by turns, And through her beating bosom burns ; Each gloomy fear that met her view Shed o'er her soul its darkest hue. While trembling, fearing, dreading, sighing. She dared not think her child was dying ! Each feeble ray of hope that smil'd Shone like a meteor that beguil'd. And only seem'd to mock her grief, But brought not comfort or relief; Scope to her thoughts she dared not give — She dared not hope her child would live ! Shrinking from each with equal dread. What most she hoped, what most she fear'd ; While o'er the gulph still hovering he Remain'd of dark uncertainty. Lingering death his victim spares ! See, this child of ceaseless prayers. Wakes, as from a sleep profound, And casts his languid eyes around; He sees his sorrowing mother stand Beside his bed — he takes her hand. And to his burning lips he presses The tender pledge, with fond caresses ; While from his glist'ning eyeballs shine Sweet smiling looks that seem divine. Whose soothing eloquence impart Sweet comfort to a mother's heart. And speak like music to her soul The honied balm that makes it whole ; THK MOTHER'S DARLING. 61 Bright harbingers they seem to be, That speak her child from danger free. And seem to say that health will come. With all its sweetest pristine bloom ! When rolls the dark thunder-cloud over the sky, Deep peals the loud roar, and the wild lightnings fly. Fast and heavy the drops like a cataract pour. And down to the ground bear each delicate flower : The pride of the rose seems wither'd and dead. Its blushes are gone, and its fragrance is fled, And weeping and drooping it hangs down its head ! The storm is gone by, and the thunder is past. The smiles of the sun chase the frowns of the blast; While o'er the glad earth he scatters his rays. Reviving creation new beauty displays ; The zephyrs take wing, and while sporting around. They dash from the rose the pearl drops to the ground; Reliev'd from its burthen, the tempest gone o'er. Far sweeter and fairer it blooms than before ! As the rose in the blast, so in sickness the youth Is robb'd of his beauty, his vigour, and growth ; Bow'd down by affliction, tormented by pain. All efforts to soothe him seem fruitless and vain ; The grim king of terrors waves o'er him his wand. And he beckons him on with his cold viewless hand : When he frowns, neither health, youth, nor beauty can save A mother's dear child from the brink of the grave. 62 THE MOTHER'S DARLING. Though sickness afflict, yet healtli can restore : Then he blooms like the rose that was blasted before; Renew'd is his strength, his vigour returns. His soul is made glad, in his bosom it warms, Tt kindles and burns, and brighter it grows Through the eye as it smiles, on the cheek as it fflows: And blithe as a lark when attuning her throat, He returns to his pastimes, diversion, and sport : Forgotten all sickness, and sorrow, and pain, He is joyful and feels himself happy again ! What are the signs, and where is the token. That tells of a joy that cannot be spoken ; That swells in the bosom, that shines through the eye ; That thrills through the heart, that breathes in the sigh ; That lives in each action, that smiles on the cheek- That speaks of a joy that the tongue cannot speak P 'Tis a mother's to know, 'tis a mother's to feel. Such a joy and a pleasure she cannot reveal. When snatch'd from the tomb the dear boy she ador'd Is to the fond arms of a mother restor'd ! Who can feel such a love, such a grief, such a joy. And watch with such care o'er the life of a boy ? Ask a mother — a mother will give the reply. MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO' Soon as Aurora, with her keys of light, Opes the bright portals of the orient Heavens, and plants her purple banners in The sky, to herald forth the sun, bright monarch Of the day : then drowsy slumbers from my Eyes I shake, and, rising, leave my downy Bed, which, soft, enticing, fain would bid me Linger yet another hour— a sluggard's Plea for rest ; that hour still lingering soon would Seal my eyes with quiet sleep, or broken slumbers. Fraught with startling dreams of monsters dire, and Ominous events, such as the waking World ne'er saw, would lengthen out that hour to Two, till all the summer morn was spent, while Drowsy sloth was lolling at its ease. But no — the morning smile invites me to The fields, where blooming health my early coming Waits, to fan me with its fragrant vivifying Breeze. With joyful soul, and spirits all elate, 64 MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. I quit for one short while the narrow Crowded streets, and noisome, smoky alleys. Where the busy scenes of life pass daily On — where discord's sown — where slander's spread Abroad — where strife's engendered, enmity And pride — where mirth and madness mingle in the Throng. But now 'tis hush'd : in sleep's soft shrouding Mantle all is lull'd— a temporary quiet. Away I go, and leave the town behind. With all its toils and cares ; with nimble step And Ijuoyant heart, along the narrow lane. Whose htdffe-rows with white-blossom'd Mav-flowers Hang luxuriant, shedding tears of dew. Then o'er the rustic stile I skip, cross the Rich meadow fields, where the wild king-cup Thickly studs the ground, and decks it in a Blazon'd vest of gold. 'Mid the thick herbage. Threading its dubious labyrinths, the Wandering landrail roams unseen, while its harsh Grating voice, now here, now there, strikes like a Discord on the listening ear; but yet I Love to hear the sound, flitting at random O'er the enamell'd mead, as if it came From some unearthly thing. And then the cuckoo — O how 1 love to hear the cuckoo sing At early morn, when the bright sun shines forth. And nature wears her loveliest smiles : and Who does not ? None — surely none — unless their Souls are like the senseless clod, with hearts Unfeeling, ears that cannot hear, their. sympathies MORNING WALK TO SPROTBUO'. 65 All dead, and recollections lock'd in dull Oblivion fast — sweet recollections Of their childhood's golden days, when the spring Sounding voice of cuckoo met their joyful Ears, a token sweet that winter's storms were o'er. I love to hear the cuckoo's voice more than All the warbling tribe that sing their songs of joy : These meadows seem the cuckoo's favourite haunt, For hereabout her voice is often heard. Prolonging still my walk, I pass the sleeping Village, with its white-wash'd cottages Embosom'd in the clustering trees of apple. Pear, or plura, whose white and crimson blossoms Feathering down, shook by the morning breeze. Shed a rich perfume around. Now let me turn My steps aside a little while, to meditate Upon the tombstones of the village dead. Before me stands the church, whose tower's slanting Top, with weathercock surmounted gay, first Caught my wandering gaze, when passing o'er The fields along the hedge-rows green. I hasten'd To this city of the dead, expecting there To find some sacred epitaph, by sorrow Prompted, by aff'ection wrote— some grateful Tribute to departed friends. But, lo ! instead Of green graves cover'd o'er with moss, and daisies Springing round — instead of sculptur'd tombs And monumental urns — instead of gravestones Standing up like watchful sentinels to E 66 MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. Guard the sleeping dust, or laid reclining On the clay-cold bosom of the silent dead — Instead of straggling hills embossing all The ground, where the rank grass luxuriates On the fattened soil — a strawfold spreads Around, beneath the church's venerable Shade, strewn thickly o'er with whiten'd husks and Disembodied chafT — the harvest's refuse. Thrown promiscuously, a heap. No tomb Was there — no grave — where sleeps the dead in Undisturbed repose. The wooden tumbril. Topsy-turvy turn'd, ungarnish'd with its Winter's store of hay or straw, quite useless. While the cattle all a-field browse the Delicious herbage as it springs ; and There a broken rake and rusty shovel, Against the wall uprear'd, bore evidence of Hard service done — now laid aside, like some Old veteran worn out with toil, discarded now. And left all helpless and distress'd. Hard by The porch, a wheelbarrow on the dunghill Stands, half fill'd with dirt and drifted chaff, where Perch'd the lordly cock claps his glad wings, and With his clarion shrill salutes the rising morn. Close by the steeple's side, the little grunters Throng are rooting in the straw, half over head. In search of scatter'd grain. There on a hill. Beside a muddy pool, the gabbling geese. Attendant on their infant charge of downy Goslings, crop the thin straggling grass, or MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. 67 Sprouting corn, scatter'd at random from the Loaded sheaves, perchance at harvest home. There, too, the waddling duck, with its young Colony of unfledg'd ducklings, wander Round and round, exploring each recess, where Stagnant water festers in the sun. Swarming with animalculae minute : 'Mid the blue fluid quick they dart their bills, With sputtering noise, and squirt the mud about. And can this be the place it seems to be ? 'Tis surely some mistake. Here are no trophies Of the dead — no emblem here of man's Mortality. Come, let us advance a Little nearer. Methought I saw the sextori Enter by the porch : for a mere trifle He will shew us round the church. But hark ! The solemn knell tolls slow, perchance for some Departed soul ! 'Twas nought but fancy tingling In the ear — no solemn knell has toll'd : and Yet methought I heard a sullen sound Beating in measur'd time; and so it was — The swinging flails, swift flying through the air. Ring down a merry peal upon the boarded Floor^ and beat the bearded grain with hasty Strokes, by brawny sinews grasp'd. Surpris'J, I stopp'd to listen to the sound ; then enter'd Through the folding doors, half open thrown, and Gazed around to see what it might mean. A well stored mow of loaded sheaves, piled to The roof on either side, where smiling plenty E 2 68 MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'- Dwells, and bids the meagre form of want depart. And fills the space where pews and benches. Neatly lined and cushion'd o'er, might stand, meet For the villager when deck'd in holiday Attire, attended by a loving wife. And lisping infant clinging to its mother's Breast, or skipping o'er the daisied lawn in Artless innocence, upon the Sabbath Morn, repairing to receive divine Instruction from the holy man, their Worthy pastor, who expounds the word of God To their attentive ear. But where's the pulpit. With its velvet cushion, crimson tassel'd. Fringed with gold, whereon reclines the sacred Book of truth ? ^Tis nowhere to be seen beneath This roof : the winnowing machine its place Supplies, whose fanning breath hurls off with Whirlwind blast the worthless chaft'; while on the Clean-swept floor in golden showers, the sifted Grain descends— a harvest rich, fit for the Storehouse of its lord. Within this edifice No signs appear to show it is the temple Of the holy God. View'd from the neighbouring Hill, its architectural windows painted Gothic wise, and lozenge-paned — the Saxon Arched door-way to its embattled porch — Its walls of quarry'd stone, and slated roof — And then the neat square steeple at the end. Perchance a dovecote, towering o'er the rest — Duly proclaim it is a house of prayer. MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. 69 But no — no house of prayer is this ; some freak Of fancy in a pleasant mood its owner Prompted thus to deck the building out. To seem in outward semblance a church — Within it is a barn ! And yet to make The illusion more complete, upon the Lawn hard by the vicarage stands, with Neatly stucco'd walls, looking so clean and White, contrasted with the dark green ivy. And the dangling vines that climb luxuriant Round, curtaining the windows with their rich Festoons. But still no vicarage house is this ; No vicar dwelleth here, nor minister Of grace, preaching to all, repent and sin No more : but some rich cit, whose increas'd Wealth and stores abundant bid him from the Busy world retire, and spend his still Remaining days in peace, and live a country. Quiet, secluded life. By Don's sweet flowing Stream he builds him here a house convenient To his wish, in simple style, yet elegant And neat, well suited to the scene, where Nature spreads her ample carpet wide, and Strews profusion round in all its loveliest Forms, decking the rural bowers with Summer garlands rich in every die, Outrivalling the rainbow in their varied hues. Breathing perfumes around. Clothed in their Summer dress, the congregated trees, bearing e3 70 MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. Rich promise of delicious fruit, gracing His garden's ample space in great variety Of apple, pear, or plumb ; the nectarine rare, The blushing cherry, and the downy peach. Clad in the gayest livery of spring, A lively green of mingled shade and summer Blossoms, white as mountain snow, with mingling Crimson, join to woo the morning sun. Drinking rich nectar from his smiling beams. But now I must away, and leave this scene. Where I have d<^elt too long. Time, fleeting onward With unwearied wing, warns me that I must Soon return : yet far have I to go, and Much to see, much to admire of nature's Boundless charms, ere to the busy world Again I wend my way, and like a bubble Float amid ten thousand bubbles more. Unseen and disregarded, down its broad Impetuous tide, that rolls for ever on. Then leave I now this spot, and thro' the lime-kilns' Healthfql smoke I urge my way, while the white Curling volumes from the furnace-crater rise. And roll along the vale. 'Mid hills and dells. By quarries of live rock, o'er heaps of straggling Stones, obstructing all the way, I hurry Onward, gain the river's brim, where nibbling Sheep crop the young grass, making the sward A velvet carpet of enamell'd green. Then pause I here a moment, to observe How eagerly they browse the sweet springing MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. '/I Herbage, moist with sparkling dew ; and then to See the frisking lambs, how innocent their Sports, what gambol-freaks they play ; there. Congregated in a group, they stand— then off They start, like mimic racers, o'er the level Course— away, away they go— the goal a Bush, a tree, a shrub, a tuft of waving grass. They gain ; then panting round they turn, and off Again they go with nimble glee, and stretch Their little legs to win the prizeless race. Yet should the foremost fall, then o'er its head Incessantly they leap, and onward still Career, nor stop their eager race before The goal be won, while he is left behind. Thus often have I watch'd their frolic sports, And been diverted with their gambol play. My steps now eagerly I bend, to pace Thy climbing hills and lowly vale, O Sprothro' ! Advancing gaily on the river's bank, The hills before me gently swell on either Hand : with steps elastic, up the beaten White cliff path I mount, and pass the latched Gate, which, swinging wide, loud claps against The post, and echoes through the vale. Then turning To the left, a way less travers'd, overgrown With grass, directs my steps to where a humble Pile stands, canopied by trees, far from the Haunts of men. Deck'd*in the native style of True simplicity, upon the gentle Eminence it stands— a fit retreat for 72 MORNING WALK TO .SPUOTBUO'. Solitude — a temple of the dead, and Of the living too — where Christians meet in Charity and faith, to praise the God of all. The elm, the ash, the sycamore, and fir, Majestic rise around this sacred pile. And wave their leafy honours o'er its roof. With gentle murmurings that lull the mind To rest, and calm the troubled soul. No towering Steeple crowns its lowly roof; no solemn Knell ere sounded on its hill, save when those Sweet-toned bells of Sprotbro's hilly brow. Borne by the vagrant zephyrs o'er the vale, Com6 floating on the air, like soft aerial Music to seraphic song, dictating Harmony; or, wafted by the breeze adown The winding stream, the list'ning echoes catch The magic sound ; from hill to hill responds The music back, and floating on the aether Pure, it faintly sounds, then dies along the vale. Or mingles in the concert of the woodland choirs ! No sculptur'd pillars of Corinthian mould. No frieze or cornice in rare flutings wrought. No circling arch, no Gothic ornament. Is seen within its whited walls ; no oaken Pulpit, richly carved with laboured art; No costly, cushion'd pews^. bedeck'd in Crimson curtains' stately pride, veiling Their worshippers from vulgar gaze, as if Asham'd they seem'd to bow the knee to heaven'^ Eternal King : what impotence and pride ! MORNING WALK TO bPROTBRO'. J3 Fashion'd and carved of Norway's unctuous Fir, brought from its mountain-forests dark To Britain's fairer isle, with simple neatness Along each wall the ranging pews are plac'd ; While down the centre runs the spacious aisle. With benches graced, for children of the Village school. And then the church-yard is so Still, so quiet, so retired ! 'Tis a sweet nook In this great bustling world, where noise and Riot never come ; so green and fresh the grass Grows from the swelling graves — so bright the Daisies spring 'mid the rich velvet sward, and Speckle all the church-yard o'er, like stars of Pearl strewn on an emerald ground — so sweet The perfume of the violet's breath, the hawthorn's Fragrant scent, the woodbine's odorous exhale, As the luxuriant breeze wafts o'er the Hill, and shakes the blossom'd May-flowers from Each whiten'd bush, -while flowery snow-flakes Shower incessant down. The birds so sweetly Sing, and such a pleasant shade th' umbrageous Foliage sheds o'er all the tranquil scene, That, wean'd from the world and all its pining Cares, methinks for this sweet place I'd freely Give up all to spend my days in peace ; and When I died, perchance some sorrowing friend Beneath this lofty spreading sycamore Would lay my bones, low in the quiet grave. And water the green turf with true affection's Tears. Yes, beneath this very tree I would 74 MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO*. Be buried : it is the fourth from the gate — The largest tree: it casts a deep sepulchral Shade around — a pleasing, melancholy shade. Close by its giant tronk I fain would lie. Near to the gravel walk, that leads the Christian To the house of prayer. Then would the passing Stranger ask, who sleeps beneath this tree ? And those who heard him might reply, he was A youth who loved to visit this delightful Spot, when life glow'd in his veins, who, dying, wish'd To rest in the cold grave, beneath this spreading tree. Then they might shed a tear to water the green turf. Or plant a flower to decorate my grave ! Lovely, secluded spot ! oft let me visit This thy sacred hill, where meditation Loves to dwell, where solitude, where silence Reigns, save when the stock-dove, with its Melancholy murmurs, woos its mate to love. With a reluctant heart I leave this lovely Scene, and wander down the smooth declivity. To where the valley sinks abrupt. From hence. Far to the right, I view, as in a panoramic Scene, the lovely vale of Don, through which the Silver stream winds its meandering course. Still further on, the village glitters white Of Hexthorpe, which I lately pass'd ; and further Still, like some fair city, in the distance Far shines Doncaster, illumin'd by the sun — ! A place endear'd to memory, and loved because Endear'd bv fond attachments form'd in more MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. 75 Than friendship's bonds; and over all the tower Of its noble church — St. George's Church — Majestic rises, to complete the scene. And in unrivall'd grandeur stands secure. There, too, above the waving trees, with beauteous Elegance of form, array'd in lovely White, — pure emblem of the Christian's faith. The Christian's hope, — rises the spire of The church of Christ — Christ Church, and points The Christian to the sky, for Christ is there. And heaven is there, the paradise of God ! On either side the hills rise from the vale ; On that a sloping height, on this the pending- Rock in broken fragments hangs. Here let me Gaze upon the op'ning scene. But hark ! What music comes from yonder grove adown The steepy hill ? It is the nightingale. Sweet bird, warbling the last chorus of her Nightly song. The skylark, brooding in the Flowery vale, bathes her plum'd pinions in The nectar-dew, while twitt'ring o'er her morning- Lay, in softest strains, as if afraid to Interrupt the chantress of the night, ere Yet her chorus ends; which, ended, up she Springs, with wings expanded, soaring to the Skies. Away, away, beyond the sight, she Soars, pouring her notes upon the breezy Morn — a ceaseless concert of unnumber'd Song, Mounted aloft, upon her watch-tower High, she greets the rising sun, whose blazing 76 MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO', Orb rolls up the blue ethereal vault immense. And gilds the waking world with smiles of joy. The mist of morning, like a sea of clouds, Rolls o'er the silver stream, o'erflows its narrow Bounds, and fills the vale. Its phantom billows Dash amid the trees softly and silently. Save where the flutt'ring breeze floats by, bearing Upon its wings the surging waves of vap'ry Clouds, condens'd to dew by chilly night. The glorious sun, without a cloud to veil His blushing face, looks o'er the hill, and darts His fiery glance oblique full many a Fathom deep, into the passive bosom Of the vap'ry sea, and with his flaming Breath drinks up the whole, nor leaves a floating Particle behind, save where the rock Projecting overhangs the vale, and bids It linger in the darken'd shade. 'Tis jiow As if creation, waking from a trance. Looks on the sun with wonder and delight j While with his genial warmth he sheds Refreshing vigour on her chilly breast. Hills, rocks, and woods, and vales and murm'ring rills. Send forth an universal song of praise ; The winged songsters from each bush and tree Pour from their warbling throats, in floods of Melody, their songs of joy ; the bleating Flocks, the lowing herds, add, with their humble Speechless voice, their meed of praise j the buzzing MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. 77 Insects, dancing on the breeze ; the fluttering Winds, that rustle through the grove, and sweep the Bearded grass along the upland mead ; the Gurgling streamlet, oozing 'mong the sedges green. Or dashing from the chinky cliff with Silver tone; the river's rippling wave, Murm'ring along its course, combine to swell With harmony of sound, nature's majestic Voice, her universal hymn — for ever Sounding forth their great Creator's praise. And O shall man, proud lord of earth's domain. Forget his maker, and blaspheme and half Deny his God ? Forbid it, heaven; and teach His erring soul, in sin's intricate mazes Lost, to seek salvation while he may. Lest in the thunder of Jehovah's wrath. With justice sway'd, his guilty soul be doom'd To pains eternal, and unceasing woe ! Still higher mounts the sun upon his azure Throne ; then comes the fluttering zephyr with its Perfum'd breath, shedding ambrosial odours As it flies ; upon its airy pinions Swift it skims along the vale, and sweeps o'er All the hill, and kisses from the drooping Flowers the pearly dew, and decks their silken Leaves afresh in gorgeous colours beautiful And fair. The daffodil, upon the margin Stream, reclines its drooping head, and meets Reflected on the glassy wave its deeply Tinged head of gold. The cowslip, too, the pretty 7B MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. Cowslip, that every child remembers, knows, And loves, from the first dawn of infant Recollection up to manhood's prime, Planted by nature wildly irregular. As if at random thrown, bedecks the rising Hill and lowly vale, and adds to nature's Charms a garland sweet. Then the pale primrose From beneath the bramble-bush delighted Peeps upon the new-born day, and opens Wide its filmy flow'rets to the sun. The purple violet from the mossy bank Breathes forth its sweet perfume, half hid among Surrounding flowers of gaudier hue. Emblem sweet of modesty, that shuns the Obtrusive gaze, and ruthless hand of bold Impertinence, that knows not how to blush. The dangling blue-bell in the hedge-row springs. Whose drooping cups hang pendant on the stalk. And tremble in the breeze, knelling its name As 'twere to all the prattling urchins of The village-green. Here the wild hedge-rose buds And blossoms forth, clasped by the woodbine's Tendrils sweet, and wed to its embrace! Scenting the air, they bloom in close communion Join'd, garlanding the fields, where the wild bees Their airy circles wing, enticed from far To quaff the honied balm ! Starting from the Gentle slope, abrupt the craggy rocks Impending steep, confront the morning sun. MORNING WALK TO SPROTBUO'. JQ Rugged and bold, — beat by the tempest and The howling storm, parch'd by the summer's sun. They frown in broken fragments piled. When Rushing torrents of descending rain, from Thunder-showers disgorged, roll down the Craggy steep, and carry with their deluge- Sweep the mould'ring earth, and choke each cranny Up, each crevice fill ; whence bush and bramble Spring, and trees, and shrubs, whose lively green and Hawthorn whiteness dapple the frowning rock. And form a pleasing contrast with the naked Cliff, where browzing kine in safety graze ; Upon the brink precipitate they stand, and Snuff the morning breeze ; down the deep vale they Gaze, and lowing greet their kindred herds Feeding beneath, on the rich pasturage. By the river's side. A little further let Me walk, and through the twinkling leaves of shrubs And trees see where the rock breaks off. Abrupt as first it rose; 'tis on the further Side, opposed to where we stand. The woody Grove fills up the space, and clothes the sides, and Crowns the sloping brow with stately trees, Deck'd in full foliage richly gay, of Various shade — of oak, and ash, and Towering elm. Rearing their ample heads aloft. They stand in congregated majesty. And cast a mighty shadow on the vale Below, when Sol descending seeks the 80 MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. Western wave. Here on the topmost branches Of the shaggy wood the wild rooks their Aerial city build, which, nodding To the summer breeze, swing gently to and fro ; Or, rock'd from side to side, hurl'd by the stormy Blast in quick vibrations, dash'd amid the Warring winds, yet still secure they swing. Firm round the forky twigs they twine the Pliant stalks of thorn and brier, with Patient, studious care, lab'ring incessantly: Then with soft wool, stolen from the bleating sheep. Or gather'd from the fields, they line their tott'ring Nests, with curious art, firm interwoven And warm — a safe protection for their callow Young. Then on a bough that mantles o'er the Flood, whose wave pellucid glideth underneath. The sable matrons sit, and caw a bold Defiance to the rambling school-boy, who In vain attempts their city to invade. In search of plunder'd store. Beneath the ash And elm's umbrageous shade, the thorn and Bramble, and the hazel bush, fill up the Space, a covert thick and strong. To this, the Blackbird haunts, the thrush and linnet join. And more than all the nightingale is there. Each builds its mossy nest, in thought secure. Unseen, amongst the foliage young of Bush and shrub. But prying eyes are near. And danger lurks around : the vagrant MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRC. gl Schoolboy, at his truant play, betakes him To the woods; on mischief bent, he pries each Nook and dell, each bush and thicket round, and Ever and anon he stoops him down, and. With fixed gaze, like rav'ning vulture ere it Strikes its prey, his eager eyes quick glancing Look the darkling bushes through, and meet the Opposing light. The inner twigs, with leaves Scarce cover'd o'er, betray their charge; for lo ! The hidden nest, with all its treasure fraught. His prying eyes descry : then loud triumphing. Thro' the woods he shouts, and bears the prize away! Ah ! cruel, thoughtless boy — thou little thinkest That for ev'ry egg thou steal'st unseen. For ev'ry nest thou tear'st while dragging Through the briars with ruthless haste, leaving Its scatter'd ruins hanging there, or strewn A plunder'd wreck upon the ground ; for every Unfledged young thou takest from its feathery Nest away in wanton sport, — thou little Thinkest, cruel, thoughtless boy, what speechless Anguish fills the warbling parent's throbbing Breast, when she, returning to the home she Left in search of food, bearing in her little Horny beak the writhing worm or insect Small, to satisfy the crying hunger Of her unfledg'd brood, finds not their dwelling Warm that she was wont to find so readily ; Fluttering from bush to bush, the anxious Mother hurries on — perchance mistake or F 82 MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. Over haste, returning from afar, might Miss the well-known spot. Chirping aloud. She perches on a thorn, expectant listens Then to hear the nestlings' call : she hears them Not. At last she finds the bare foundation Of her plunder'd home ! Robb'd of her young, Robb'd of her ev'ry care, down drops the promis'd Food : her fluttering wings forget their wonted Flight, her wakeful eyes grow dim, her beating Heart with swelling anguish heaves her Downy breast ; her tuneful melody, so Sweet amid the woods when morning smil'd. Ceases at once to flow. Down from her ravag'd Nest she drops among the tangling grass, To seek her young, nor finds them there; then, in Bereavement's pain, she flits from tree to tree, From bush to bush, a solitary wanderer, Till at last she drops exhausted down, and dies ! Is this thy triumph, then, O cruel, thoughtless boy ? Is this thy sport — thy wanton pastime this ? Can rapine please thee, plunder give thee joy ? Can cruel torture fill thee with delight? Then have thy wayward bent, perverse of will ; From small beginnings may'st thou easily learn To be a robber and a murd'rer too ! Whither away so fast, my wand'ring muse ? Vagrant, and wild, and young, and unrestrain'd. Thou, like a child in full pursuit of gaudy Butterflies, hast led me far astray ; nor did I miss my way, till I around me look'd. MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. 83 And saw the road behind me far, while on Forbidden ground I'd trespass'd long. But I Must call thee back, my wand'ring muse ; in close Companionship we still must journey on : Then guide my steps aright, while I explore The charms of nature in her gayest mood. Lo ! bursting from the tufted woods, appears In majesty serene, the stately hall Of Sprotbro's fair domains : 'tis full in view. And far and wide displays its ample front. Where multitudes of windows blaze in burnish'd Gold, caught by the glancing rays of Sol's Refracting beams. Firm built and well proportion'd. With its spreading wings, it stands upon the Hill's steep brow, with aspect fair, commanding All the vale : bespeaking well a Copley's Rural architectural skill, surpassing Rome's Proud domes in pictureque beauty crown'd. And Tadmor's marble-column'd halls^ whose Massy workmanship, immensely large, distracts The wearied eye; and Egypt's far-fam'd pyramids. Built on the sandy deserts bare, can boast No charms to equal thine : nor ancient Thebes, with her hundred gates, giant of Cities, on which the wreck of ages gone Have vented all their desolating power. Sublime in ruin still, ne'er view'd among Her palaces magnificent and great, a spot So sweet, so charming, and so rich as thine I f2 84 MOimiNG WALK TO SPROTBRO'. An ample garden circles round the hall. Laid out in beautiful designs, where choicest Shrubs and rarest flowers prolific grow, Cultur'd and nourish'd by an art refin'd. Where tasteful circling walks wind serpentine Along, and intersect the ground, in great Variety of forms, where shrubs and evergreens Form cool embowering shades, and multitudes Of flowers in bright perennial beauty bloom. 'Tis at this princely mansion that the Hospitable board is spread, welcome alike To all, as 'twas in days of yore, when No one quest'ning ask'd the wand'ring stranger Whence he came, or whither went his way. Refresh'd with goodly cheer, and strength renew'd. So he departed on his way in peace. Alike unknowing and unknown. Along the winding galleries and spacious Halls of this fair mansion, hang, in burnish'd Frames, gracing its walls, the works of fairest Art — immortal trophies these, selected By its noble founder, who, with discerning Judgment, learnt to prize excelling genius. Whilst his lib'ral hand lov'd to promote its Growth by merit's due reward. Here we see A Raphael's finest eff^orts — inimitable — Restoring life in vivid strokes, and richest. Mellowest shades. There, pictur'd, kneels the Saviour Son of God, in agony upon 'I'he mount ; he seems to breathe his fervent MORNING WALK TO t;PROTUR()'. 85 Spirit forth in prayer to God for guilty Man, upon the canvass'd roll. And here a Vandyke too gives place to none; his sweetest Touches live in dumb expression, eloquently Silent, fixing the delighted gazer Spell-bound on their charms. Here, too, a Vandeville Is seen, stirring the ocean waves with the Smooth point of his obedient pencil : He rigs the pride of Britain's boasted power In swelling sails ; at his command, they Plough the surging flood, steering alike to Torrid or to frigid zone, — or east or west. Where'er the sun gives day : braving the storms, They visit every clime, and bear their commerce To a thousand realms ! And here, departed Relatives, long since else forgot, deck'd in Their antiquated garbs, live to the eye. And tell us with a silent warning voice. That as we live so they too once have lived. And as they died so we must also die ! Graced with a library of choicest books. Where each exalted genius displays His richest store of treasures to the Enquiring mind,— 'tis here the congregated Wisdom of the world, from the first annals Of recorded time down the dark course of Ages to the present day, is found upon The letter'd page : collected with discriminating Care, filling the numerous shelves with many A goodly pile of choicest books, in richest f3 86 MORNING WALK TO SPUOTBRO'- Bindings gaudily array'd. Here we might Sit from morn to night, perusing o'er, with Souls entranc'd, the sweet sublimity, the Thrilling thoughts intense of the inspired muse. And with him disembodied soar far, far Above this little world of ours, and visit Other spheres : with wings of swiftest thought. Plunge down the deep immense, and trace creation To its birth ; thence sweep around the universe. And count the stars, and track the comets in Their fiery flight, while linking worlds to worlds; Then with exhaustless pinions mount sublime. And win the gate of heaven, and view with Faith's bright telescopic eye, the rich Transcendent beauties faintly vision'd there ! Or, in the cool embowering shade, free from the Noontide's heat, we might select from thy Abundant stores th' historic volume, and Read o'er a tale of other times, and other Kings, and empires pass'd away, and kingdoms Now no more. Now let me leave the hall. Amid th6 woods embower'd, where my Impatient muse begins to feel restraint. Cramped up and prison'd by the palace walls. Panting for liberty, it longs again To rove with vagrant flight and giddy wing; Where nature's boundless charms invite and tempt Me still to stray. MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO". 87 Above the wood-crow n'd top Of Sprotbro's pleasant hill, the church uprears Her sacred head — an ancient, venerable pile. Whenever 1 approach a church-yard fiU'd With graves, a secret reverential awe Steals o'er my soul, and fills my heart with Gratitude to kind indulgent heaven. That still allows a sinful worm like me To live, and breathe the air salubrious ; And permits the sun's bright beams upon my Head to shine — my guilty head, unworthy Of the glow-worm's feeble light my darksome Path to cheer; while every where around Me fall the young, the old, the beautiful. The fair, tlie innocent, — the guilty, wicked. Too, — into the cold dark grave ! While gazing Thus in solemn silence on the place where Rest the dead, in undisturb'd repose ; Teach me, O teach me, power divine — teach Me to know myself, to know my Maker, And to serve him too : and as I cannot Shun the sleep of death, teach me to shun the Death that never, never dies ! Death, like a Mighty warrior, on his pale white horse, Throws his keen darts promiscuously around, W^ith an unerring aim. By this, a hero In the hour of conquest falls : by that, a Coward trembling, fearing, dies ! The new-born 88 JtORNING WALK TO SI'ROTBRO'. Infant, struggling into life, closes its eyes In death, and finds an early tomb : while Tottering age, all palsied by decay, drops Into the grave, and rests from earthly toil ! The hoary tower casts a hallow'd shadow On the sidelong graves, while each in turn receives Its silent shade, as round it softly steals. When the bright sun rolls through the cloudless sky. Beneath its arched roof, the relics of Fitzwilliam's ancient lords repose In death, a numerous train, whose noble Actions gain'd the unask'd praise of men of Other times, when Norman William warr'd. The sun each early morn peeps through the ivy'd Window on the sculptur'd marble, where these Valiant chieftains sleep, as if to tell The wond'rous tale of mighty revolutions. That slow revolving centuries unfold. And then shut up in defep oblivion seal'd. Now from this solemn scene I must away. And down the wooded steep again descend. While clamb'ring, leaping down, to gain the Level vale, through the dark quiv'ring leaves of Branching elms, the glitt'ring waters dance of Don's smooth stream, lit by the radiant sun ! The stone-paved ford across th' embedded River runs, o'er which the gushing waters Pour a ceaseless stream, white foaming o'er the Flood. Hoarse murmuring to the breeze it onward Rolls, with deaf'ning sound ; and if obstruction MORNING WALK TO SPUOTBRO'. 89 Meeting down its headlong course, by shrub or Tree, or broken cliff, projecting 'midst its Hurrying tide, rebounding into air It flies and dances in the sunshine, like A crystal shower distilling dew. Upon a promontory small, the water Mill juts out amid surrounding waves. Firm, Yet trembling, it stands ; while through the open Sluices rushing floods in whirling eddies Roll, and turn with their impetuous tide The pond'rous wheels, whose finny circuit round Revolving slow, set wheels in wheels complex. With motions intricate, revolving round On numerous axes, answering each to each ; Whose iron teeth wide gaping horrible To powder grind the adamantine flint. With crashing noise : then safe to Mexbro's hill Convey'd,'tis mixed with temper'd clay, whose ductile Paste firm press'd in various moulds of Curious form, and common some ; close-pack'd In the refining furnace, till hard baked By ardent heat. Dimly transparent then They are produc'd, with shining coat encrusted O'er, and landscape, church, or tree bepictur'd On their convex sides, and rim just tipt with Gold. Then in its gay enamell'd dress 'tis Fit to grace the prince's gay saloon, or Peasant's cot in corner cupboard placed. For ornament or use. 90 MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. A little cottage By the river stands, a neat and pleasant Cot, whose shadow dances on the rippling Wave at noon-tide hour^ reflected clear; Where lives a simple swain, whose constant Care is to attend the well-known call of •' Boat, a-hoy !" then ever ready to obey. Nor tugging oar to pull, nor rudder's All-commanding sweep to lave, nor bellying Sails unfurling to the gale, nor compass Pointing to the frozen pole, unerring guide; Nor anchor, safeguard from the rocks, to weigh; He enters in his little bark, nor storms. Nor tempests fears ; nor whirlpools deep, nor Splitting rocks, that bilge th' entangled ship. When whirlwinds rage around: but with a rope From bank to bank made fast on either side, By stump of tree or sturdy oak, he hauls With sluggish ease the steady skiff upon The surface smooth, which slowly glides across. Nor ripples up the wave with oaken prow. Beyond the mill's resounding splash, the Tufted woods that crown'd the sloping height Give place in turn, and mounting rock again Diversifies the scene, for ever changing. As you still proceed. Mangled and hack'd by The strong-sinew'd villagers, who, with the Poising lever and the delving pick, tear The firm earth to fragments, and undermine MORNING WALK To SPROTBRO'. 91 With persevering toil the solid rock, Rip np the bowels of the hills, and bare Their limestone sides, that like a mighty Battlement stand threatening all. Then loud Exploding bursts th' ignited train, hid in A crevice safe, lit by the taper's blaze: Blasting the rocks with strong convulsive force. It rends its way with irresistible control ; While rolling masses, loosen'd from beneath. Come thund'ringdown the steep with crash tremendous, O'erwhelming shrubs and trees in the huge wreck It makes : then hack'd to pieces small, 'tis piled In heaps of pyramidic form, with layers Alternate — limestone rock and coal. Enkindled From below, the subtle fire ascends, and Soon ignites the whole, whose furnace heat Subdues the stubborn rock, and calcines it to lime. The noisy jackdaw builds its nest within The crannies of the rock, and brooding there Secure looks down upon the busy world below. He caws contented there from morn to night. Nor takes a thought of future life ; wakes with The sun, and with the sun retires to rest. Nor knows a day beyond the present hour. Now from the western shores of Don the hill Retires, and meadows intervene ; then rises At a distance, gently smooth, clothed richly Gay, with young plantations of luxuriant Fir, well stored with numerous game. The flutt'ring Partridge there, the golden pheasant, and the 92 MORNING WALK TO SI'ROTBIIO'. Timid hare seek shelter in i(s friendly Grounds, cropping the tender grass, or rustling 'Mid the leaves at every startling sound. The little village now is all alive; The curling sinoke, in spiral columns of light Transparent blue, rises amid the trees; Between the stately elms, shine cottages All spruce and clean ; while, with his smiles, the sun Illumes them. The villager repairs him To his daily toil, clad in his rustic garb ; He whets his curving scythe upon a flint. And to the orchard or the paddock goes. Where thickly planted trees, with blossoms Cover'd o'er, screen off" the sun's directer rays. Here, in the moist and temp'rate shade, the Tender grass luxuriant springs, a rich Abundant crop. Now swinging wide his Glittering blade, he mows the trembling stalks by Twice ten thousand at a sweep : piercing their Crowded ranks, he lays them on the earth in Countless numbers prone, as when the fierce Destroying angel pass'd through the Assyrian Camp, smiting the proud Sennacherib and his Pagan hosts ! Then opening wide his arms, he Gathers up the slaughter'd mass, and bears it To the stall, where long-expecting waits The droning carter or the sprightly steed. To taste the fragrant new-cut herb ; and then To labour through the day amid the fallow fields. MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. 93 The homely housewife, or the buxom lass, Trips gaily o'er the dewy lawn, or through The upland meads ; under her arm she bears The white-scour'd kit, aud sings her love-song as She blithely goes. The grazing kine soon catch Herwell-known voice, and greet her visit Welcome by an answering low, and meet her At the gate. The swelling udder soon she Eases then of its exuberant offerings rich. Returning to the pastures then again, The matron cows frolic and frisk about. And chase each other round the mead. Or goad the swelling hillock with their Curving horns, in counterfeited ire, and Make the crumbling mould fly round in dusky Showers; or else upon the new-sprung flowers They feed, whisking their tails about from side To side, to whip the miscreant flies, buzzing Around incessantly, in eager thirst For blood ; or else perchance they He them down Upon the tufted sward, with looks demure. Sedately ruminating o'er their cud. Nutritious, ejected from the stomach's Spacious cavity, yet undigested, Till twice ground between their ivory tusks. Meanwhile the milkmaid to her cot repairs. Where, sprawling on the hearth, she finds (he Naked urchins gambolling in sweet innocence. And sportive glee, as tumbling out of bed In mother's absence by the fire they roll. 94 MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO*. Then all with eager joy surround the Brimming kit, and each its tiny finger dips To taste the warm new milk white creaming o'er. The swallow twittering beneath the eaves. Or chattering on the chimney top at early morn. Or swiftly darting through the ambient air. Catching the insects swarming in the sun. Or picking mud to build its pensile nest. Adds a sweet rural charm to country life. The woodbine twines around the cottage door. With sweet-brier interwoven, where the Laborious bee, attracted by perfumes. Sips up the nect'rous sweets, and loads its Little thigh with the rich powder'd flour. Returning joyous to its straw-built hive, It kneads its unctuous wax, and stores its Luscious honey in the balmy cells ; then Hums away its cares, prepared with richest Stores for banquets rare 'gainst wintry storms. Within the little garden springs each fragrant Shrub, each painted flower. The rose, queen of The garden, grows in sweet companionship With knots of clustering pinks. The golden Gilly-flower, the glowing stock, shed their Sweet perfume round. The deep carnation, deck'd In crimson pride, loads the fresh air with odours Rich, scenting the evening breeze. Around each Bed of congregated flowers, of varied form. Or square, or round, or long, or hexagon. MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. 95 Runs in a wavy line the emerald box, Bordering the walks with its enamell'd green. Beneath the cottage window stands the bench Of elm, or block of solid rock, round which The mantling ivy darkling creeps ; where, on A summer's eve, his daily labour done. The weary ploughman sits to rest, and quaffs With social joy his horn of home-brew'd ale; AVhile with his clay-tubed pipe he puffs the smoke About in fragrant curling clouds, and makes The sportive children laugh, and sneeze, and cough ! While the old dame, with snuff-box by her side. Keeps thumb and finger busily employ'd. As she the fairy tale repeats, or often Told legend of goblins grim, and sheeted ghosts. Dancing by moonlight pale, amid the church-yard graves. To the attentive listening throng around The cottage door. Thus pass their days, and thus Their evenings pass ; sweet peace and true content Encircle every cot; each simple rustic subject. When his toil is done, feels happy as his prince. Perhaps this picture seems too perfect to Be real, and some may say can ne'er be found In this our world of turmoil, care, and pain. But is it not more pleasing thus to paint A scene of happy life, where peace and Harmony encircle all, than one where Bickering strife and discontent spread discord Througli the whole : when we have power to choose 96 MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO*. 'Twixt good and ill, 'twixt happiness and woe ? 'Tis surely sweeter to give pleasure if We can, than pain ; and when we paint all Beautiful, we see, or know, or comprehend. No blot should ere obtrude to mar the lovely scene ! A fairer hill than Sprotbro', " never sun View'd in his wide career." Sure nature on This place has lavish'd all her charms, to feast The gazing eye, and fill the admiring Soul with ecstasies of joy. View from the Terraced hall the wide expanse below, of Pending rock, and grove, and mead with tufted Trees all speckled o'er, through which the silver Stream of Don winds its meandering course ; And then the pale blue hills in distance rising Dim, and steepled towers, and halls, and cots, Scatter'd as 'twere at random 'mid the scene. Far down the stream we view thy towering height, O pride of Doncaster, rising majestic O'er the waving trees ; while, listening with Delighted ear, thy merry pealing bells Through Sprotbro's vale with softest music swell. Then to the right we turn, and up the winding- Vale descry afar the darkling keep of Conisbro's castled tower — proud emblem this Of human greatness crumbling to decay. Once with luxuriant pomp and mighty Heroes thronged, clothed awfully in battle's Stern array, when its beleaguer'd walls by Banner'd hosts were close besieg'd around. MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO*. 9/ Who knows what scenes have pass'd before its walls ; Beneath its roof; what pageantries, what shows; What sieges, wars, and conflicts fierce, to gain And keep possession of its princely towers. By Normans, Saxons, Danes, by Britons, And perhaps by Romans too ! Now silent And untenanted — a desert void, while Strewn around its noble ruins lie ; where The grey owlet and the finny bat resort. And wing their dubious flight at dusky Eve, and sally ^mid the gloomy turrets And the darken'd trees, imposing on the Timid mind a chilling awe and superstitious Fear : while to unthinking, heedless, wayward Man, it speaks in solemn tones the startling Truth of transient life, and Time's unseen. Progressive, still destroying power, that Sweeps the sons of men and all their boasted Works away, nor scarcely leaves a fragment Wreck behind, to tell where they had been. Methinks 'tis time that now I hurried home: Yet ere I go, I fain would ask, who has Not been to Sprotbro' P Let them go — 'twill well Repay them for their toil, if such a toil It be where pleasure leads the way. If they Have eyes to see the charms and beauties of The scene, as mine beheld them when I Thither stray'd : if they have hearts to feel The pure delight that such sweet scenes inspire: If they have minds to contemplate the G 98 MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. Beautiful variety that nature spreads Around, which way soe'er they turn : if they Have souls adapted to enjoy the Intellectual pleasure that such scenes Can give, as mine have seen, have felt, have Contemplated and enjoy'd : then let them go. For it will well repay them for their toil. Thus map we out the way. Through Hexthorpe You must go ; then by the Don's clear stream for Haifa mile; cross o'er the stile close by the River side; now take your choice, and walk Along the stream on the soft velvet grass. Or climb the hill, and you will find a lane, A sweet retired lane, all carpeted with Grass, with daisies speckled o'er, and bound on Either side by high and bushy hedges Of white-blossoQi'd thorn — a nice green lane, where Lovers oft might walk ; for 'tis, methinks, a Lovely place to woo. This lane will lead you To the church — to Warmsworth church, upon the Hill, of which I spoke before : here you may Stay awhile, if you feel so inclined ; yet Do not trample down the grass too much, nor Tread upon the graves : you will not hurry Hence if you should feel as I have felt, when I have linger'd here. But when you go 'tis Down the hill, a way not often trod ; along The beaten footpath then proceed upon The hill that overlooks the vale ; then through A shady avenue of branching trees. MORNING WALK TO SPnOTBRO'. 99 A living green arcade, pillar'd and festoon'd All the way with summer wreaths : while at the Entrance stand two ancient yews, in dark Green liveries drest, like sentinels to guard This cool and shady place. Down this broad Over-arching vault you may descend the hill ; You here may run, or walk, or roll, just as You list, until you gain the river's side : Then cross the boat, or if it should be dry. Walk o'er the wash. When midway o'er the stream, Stand still and look around you, to the right. The left, before you, and behind : you there Will see upon that very spot more lovely Scenery than you could conceive were centred In so small a range, and which perhaps you Never saw before, though you may oft have Cross'd the stream with inattentive mind. And unobserving, unadmiring eye. The river cross'd there is a pleasant walk Right through the wood, that leads you to the hall. If there you wish to go. It is so cool And so delightful there on a hot summer's day; 'Tis straight, and broad, and clean, upon the very Edge of the steep hill ; and such a solemn Shade the lofty trees shed over it, and Screen it from the sky, that it seems almost As if you paced along the gloomy aisle Of some cathedral vast. And so it is — It is a temple form'd by nature's hand. And the tall stems of lofty trees are G 2 100 MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. Living pillars, that support the roof of Tufted foliage waving far aloft. Where all the feathery worshippers nnay come. And sing their songs of joy, as ancient Druids did of old beneath their sacred oak. Within the wood there is a cave, a rough Hewn cavity, cut in the steep hill side. Some say it is the cave of Merlin, the Magician ; and some, that it was once A Druid's cave ; others will tell you 'tis The bandit's cavern, where the outlaw dwelt. And kept his plunder'd store. As for myself I wot not what it is : it seems, methinks, To have been made in some rude, barb'rous Age, by hands as barb'rous as the work they made ; But if you go to view it you perhaps can tell. Descending from the dark embower'd wood. Once more you gain the river's side : if you Prefer it, now return the way you came; New beauties ev'ry step you there will find To gaze on and admire : if not, continue On your way, and follow at your will the River's mazy ramble through the meads to Newton, a hamlet small, a pleasant little Spot; still make the stream your guide, and it AVill lead you home. O, I could talk the livelong day upon A theme like this ; but you, perhaps, are wearied With the walk, and want repose. Thus then 1 end my song. MORNING WALK TO SPROTBRO'. 101 O, happy Sprotbro' ! spot Romantic, where sweet nature's charms salute The roving eye ! The church, the mansion, and The lowly cot, delightful vales by hills Encircled round — sweet scenes, adieu ! Reluctant, To the noisy town I go, while contemplation Lingers still with these, and bids my roving Fancy cease to stray ! NOTES TO WALK TO SPROTBRO'. There is, or rather was a year or two ago, a barn at Hexthorpe, built in imitation of a small modern village church. It is now converted into a very pretty dwelling-house, and is the residence of the Rev. W. C. Fenton, founder of the Yorkshire Deaf and Dumb Institution, at Doncaster. Page 65—69. In the village of Warmsworth there is a kind of steeple, with a bell in it, to call the inhabitants to prayers. It is about half a mile from the church, which stands on the brow of a gentle hill looking towards Sprotbro'. Page 71-74. 'Tis at this princely mansion that the Hospitable board is spread, tvelcome alike To all as 'twas in days of yore. Page 84, line 10. Sir John Fitzwilliam, who lived here in the reign of Henry V. caused across to be erected not far from the church, with these lines engraved on brass :— • " Whoso is hungry and lists to eate Let him come to Sprotborough to his meate And for a nighte and for a daye His hors shal hav both corne and haye And no mann shal aske him when he goeth away." This cross was pulled down in the year 1520. Sprotbro' Hall contains a fine collection of pictures procured by Sir Godfrey Copley, the founder, particularly one said to be painted by Raphael, for which a former Earl of Malton offered Sir Godfrey fifteen hundred guineas. The subject is our Saviour praying on the mount, with the disciples below. Page 84, line 1». g3 THE PILGRIM. When the Holy Land was won From fierce Saracen and Hun ; When the cross in triumph shone O'er the crescent overthrown ; Turk, and Jew, and infidel Pierc'd by Christian warriors fell — Fell by thousands— thousands slain. Strew the sanguinary plain. Gay Crusaders in the war Yield to Turkish scimetar; Glittering casque and waving plume Resist in vain the threaten'd doom j Quivering from the Tartar bow. Death-winged arrows lay them low : Christian hosts, a warlike band. Rest them in the foeman's land. Lasting long the doubtful fray. Blood and carnage mark'd the way ; Like an overwhelming tide, Roll'd the conflict deep and wide ; Through the land (a mighty flood) Mingling stream'd the hostile blood i THE PILGRIM. 103 Mutual havoc either host Court, nor count the dear-bought cost ; Revengeful hate and deadly strife Triumph'd prodigal of life; Carnage her crimson flag unfurl'd. Wide waving o'er a warring world ; Bellona on her bloody throne Made nations tremble, empires groan; By sea and land, on field and flood, Red slaughter bathed her plumes in blood ! The glorious prize at last is won. And Turk, and Saracen, and Hun, With all their fierce barbarian crew. The Christian warriors overthrew. And rescued from their iron rod The sacred town the seat of God. From tower and battlement they toss The crescent, while the holy cross Is planted there ; in flaming gold It shines, all glorious to behold. Then from earth's remotest regions Christian bands form faithful legions ; Then each learn'd and hoary sage Begins his pious pilgrimage. To pay his vows he leaves his home. Destined through distant climes to roam. Ere he the holy place may gain Where God's incarnate son was slain j Long travel ere his eyes may see The sacred hill of Calvary. 104 THE PILGRIM. Clad in a garb of humbleness. No glittering gems adorn his dress ; A flowing vest, that seem'd to be An emblem of simplicity. Enrobed his loins; around his waist A leathern belt securely braced. Supports a scrip hung by his side. With common fare, and scantily supplied ; In sandals braced his feet are shod. And in his hand he bears a rod; His rosary he counts each day. As still he travels on his way ; 'Mid devious wilds, and scenes unknown. He fasts, and prays, and journeys on. Through the forest's deep'ning gloom Does the wand'ring pilgrim come; Beset with tangling thorn and brier. His footsteps falter through the mire ; By the savage yawning den. Up the mountain, down the glen ; Over rugged rocks and steep. Through the valleys dark and deep; Where the bubbling brook is gushing, Where the cataract is rushing, Where the brinded savage prowls. Where the hungry night wolf howls ; Through the dell whose dubious gloom Seems the precinct of the tomb ; In barb'rous states, 'mid manners rude, . In many a weary solitude ; THE PILGRIM. 105 Through distant climes, in foreign lands. Through deserts bare, o'er burning sands. Where none might bless him, none to bless; Through many a lonely wilderness. His stedfast steps pursuing still The way to Sion's holy hill. Though famine greet him day by day. Though parching thirst obstruct his way. And vainly asks the cooling rill. While hunger keen demands its fill : Though craving each to be supplied. Alike to each it is denied : He's still (though thirst and hunger rage) A pilgrim on his pilgrimage. Though struggling in the wintry blast, 'Mid storms of hail and pinching frost. When warring winds tempestuous blow. His only bed a drift of snow : Though scorch'd 'mid summer's fervid heat. In vain he seeks the cool retreat; Oppress'd upon the burning plain. He seeks a cool retreat in vain ; Though summer burn, he counts his beads; Though winter freeze, he still proceeds. When night's fair burning sapphires glow. The pilgrim wandering here below. Is marshall'd by the faithful star That guides the sea-toss'd mariner ; And when the sun, enthron'd on high. Darts his bright splendour round the sky, lOG ' THE PILGRIM. The pilgrim, faithful to the last. Forgetful of the dangers past By night, with cheerful heart pursues his way, Cheer'd by the genial smiles of day ! Ended a night of arduous toils. The morning breaks In golden streaks. The blushing orient sweetly smiles. Then in the kindling beams of light. The city bursts upon his sight. In rich magnificence, that seems The night-built phantom of his dreams; But visionary thoughts give way Before the blazing orb of day ; The gilded dome shines from afar. And greets him like a natal star ! No lingering now, no longer stay. He walks, he runs, he hastes away : Gracious and good beyond compare The blessings that await him there ! The goal is gain'd, the task is done ! The glorious golden prize is won ! His pilgrimage at last is o'er. He hungers, toils, and thirsts no more ! He kneels him at the holy shrine, And ardent breathes his prayer divine; His joyful heart swells in his breast. That tells him he is doubly blest ! THE DRAGON. A FRAGMENT. Beneath a frowning cliff a scaly dragon lay. Watching with wakeful eyes his coming prey ; Alternate rows of adamant and gold In scaly pride enveloped fold on fold ; His glittering armour shone intensely bright, A grand, yet dreadful, pleasing, fearful sight j Two fiery orbs his eyes, with horrid glare. Like baleful meteors shone, in midnight air : From his wide nostrils clouds of smoke expire. And from his yawning mouth belch'd cataracts of fire j Forth from his treble tongue there quivering came A threefold fire— blue, green, and crimson flame ; From lungs of brass escaped at every breath Diseases dire, and pestilence, and death. With triple row of hollow iron teeth Each pond'rous jaw was arra'd ; above, beneath. Three times three rows ; each hollow tooth was fiU'd With deadliest poison, which by drops distill'd 108 THE DRAGON. On the parch'd ground ; each poison'd drop The thirsty earth absorbed, from thence sprung up The deadly nightshade, henbane, hemlock, yew ; And from three drops distill'd, the gloomy cypress grew. Beneath whose noxious shades securely dwell All monstrous monsters most obscene and fell ; The asp, the adder, cockatrice, and snake. Cold-blooded toad, newt, lizard, blind-worm, make Each his nest, lay eggs, and young bring forth. To plague mankind, with monsters fill the earth. High on his head a speckled crest he wears. Which he lets fall at pleasure, or at pleasure rears ; Above his fiery crest is fix'd a coronet, Adorn'd with amber, ivory, plumy gold, and jet j A stream of silver border'd it around. And with terrific grandeur was the dragon crown'd I Four spreading wings support his pond'rous weight, Bear him aloft in air, and aid his flight ; Where'er he flies he brings the shades of night ! Four scaly legs in polish'd steel encased. With hoops of gold begirt, and firmly braced ; Ten crooked talons on each leg he wore. Sharp as a two-edged sword, with which he tore His mangled prey, and stain'd them in the gore. High over all he waved his towering tail. Twisted in triple fold, and arm'd in flinty mail. Deep in the mountain's womb, his cavern'd den. In dreary darkness lies from day's broad ken. THE DRAGON. 109 Where horrors more terrific lurk conceal'd Than ever were, or can be e'er reveal'd : Were all its secret gloom one moment but unfurl'd, 'Twould blast all life, and scare th' affrighted world ! Crouched at his ease, he rested on his lair. And shot his fiery eyeballs through the sultry air. Whose baleful glances kindling made it glow. As gazing all around he eyed the world below. Wide o'er the sun-lit plain, remote from far. With list'ning ears he caught the sounds of war j Bright'ning with horrid joy and dread delight. His flaming eyes behold th' approaching fight. A gloomy wood of plumes wav'd nodding in the air. And streams of lightning flash'd from ev'ry pointed spear ; [sun. Ten thousand polish'd crests blaz'd glitt'ring in the And in a wave of fire through each battalion run ; Ten thousand shields emboss'd, ten thousand bucklers rang. In warlike concert with the trumpet's brazen clang. One moment's fearful pause 'twixt death and life. One moment's dreadful silence usher'd in the strife; Then horse with horse, and man with man engage. And war in all its bloodiest horrors rage ! Then from his cavern's dark and frowning height. The speckled dragon wings his ponderous flight; Downward he bends, and cleaves the yielding skies. On iron pinions wide outstretch'd he hies. And brings a whirlwind with him as he flies ! 1 10 THE WORLD'S DEAD. Glares his red eyes with savage fierce delight. While he surveys the struggling pigmies' fight ; Wide open yawn his horrid grinning jaws. And clench'd his steely fangs and crooked claws : Down on th' embattled host that toil'd beneath. He glares his fiery eyes, while meditating death ; On thundering wings he darts amid the thickest fray. And with terrific yells * * * * THE WORLD'S DEAD. There's not a clod of earth we tread upon. But crumbles with the dust of a departed Soul ! and ev'ry flow'ret, shrub, and tree, serve Us as monuments, where we may read the Doom of all the generations gone, and Know the destined fate of those to come. This Wide round world, so fair to look upon, is One vast cemet'ry. The spangled canopy Of night vaults with its ebon-arch this Spacious sepulchre. The radiant Sun serves but to light man to the grave ; and The pale moon shines like a lamp suspended In the darksome vault of death ; while all around Ten thousand stars, like sickly torches, lend A dubious light to show us to the tomb ! THE SHIPWRECK. PART FIRST. The night-star had set in the west. The sky-lark had sprung from her nest, (Ever true is this herald of day ;) To call up the sun in his chariot of fire, A sweet song she sings him as still he mounts higher. To cheer him along on his way. The earth from her slumbers awoke. The sea in soft murmurings broke Her waves on the pebble-dash'd shore ; No sign of a storm or a tempest was here, No blasts of the storm-wind, no hurricane near, For hush'd was its terrible roar. The orient blush of the dawn With roseate smiles saluted the morn; The morning awaken'd the day ; The day like a monarch arose from his rest. And marshall'd the sun all gloriously drest. While smiling creation look'd cheerful and gay. 112 THE SHIPWRECK. The earth as a bridegroom, the sea as a bride, Together rejoic'd as they lay side by side. And saw the bright sun on his throne ; Now Tethys and Tellus in harmony meet. Like the harp and the lute with minstrelsy sweet. Glad paeans to raise as he shone. In the wide expanded bay. See yon ship at anchor lay. Proudly like a monarch sleeping On his sumptuous bed of state ; While round about him as they wait. Menial slaves the watch are keeping. Like an empress ocean's queen. Floating on the emerald green. Busy zephyrs round her playing; See her tow'ring o'er the tide. In all the majesty of pride, [straying. While sun-beams through her shrouds are Still and solemn seem'd her rest On the waves' unruffled breast. With gentle undulating motion ; As she laved her painted side In the crystal briny tide. Like the genius of the ocean. Still and peaceful be her rest. Calm be the waves' deceitful breast, Sweet her last slumber on the sea ; THE SHIPWRECK, US For in her waking, never more Shall she make this peaceful shore ; Beneath the wave her resting place must be. Brighter now the sun is beaming. Gaily are the streamers streaming. Floating, dancing light in ether ; Now the sweet enchantment breaks, Ev'ry slumb'ring eyelid wakes. Musters now the crew together. Where before all was so still. Now the deck begins to fill. To their stations each repairing; Rous'd once more from peaceful sleep. To brave the perils of the deep. For their voyage all preparing. Life's bustling scene has now begun. Above them smiles the radiant sun, And gilds the world below ; From stem to stern with hasty speed. From deck to deck with nimble tread. From mizz'n-mast, port, and bow. This way and that, and to and fro. They hurrying come, and hurrying go. And skip from side to side : So the brisk bee from flow'r to flow'r. With gladsome song in sunny hour, Wings its gay circuit wide. H }]4 THE SHIPWRECK. All on deck is safe and fast; Now they climb the quiv'rin"- mast, T' unfurl th' impiison'd sail : Fearless up the trembling shrouds. Where the bellying canvas crowds. And courts the fresh'ning gale j They quickly mount, with nimble tread, Where danger dwells, yet nought of dread Proclaims the danger near ; 'Mid ropes, and lines, and yards they swing. Or firmly to the mast they cling. All strangers they to fear. All is ready now for sail. Waits she for the fav'ring gale, Fav'ring breezes now attend her j Still she lingers in the bay — What the cause of the delay ? Winds may change that now befriend her. There is a boat against the shore. The rower rests him on his oar. The sedges sweep its side ; The dimpling waves with gentle flow. In ripplings splash against its bow. While sleeping on the tide. Beneath yon blossom'd hawthorn's shade. Weeping stands a lovely maid, Oppress'd with grief and sorrow ; THE SHIPWRECK. 115 Tears flow from her sparkling eyes, Her spotless bosom heaving sighs. While thinking of the morrow. Her auburn hair uncurling flows. The sport of ev'ry wind that blows, And veils her tear-wash'd cheek ; Great her distress, severe her grief. Nor sighs nor tears can give relief; Her tender heart must break. Beside the weeping maiden stands A blooming youth ; he takes her hands. He tries to soothe her pain ; With cheering words and winning snailes. Tries ev'ry art that grief beguiles. Yet smiles and words are vain. Nor smiles she sees, nor words she hears; Her soul, possess'd with boding fears. Makes all the grief her own ; Full was her woe by silence fed, At length she rais'd her drooping head. And thus she made her moan. " Why wilt thou leave me ? whither wouldst thou go ? Why plunge me thus into the depths of woe? Why roam o'er boundless seas thou know'st not where. And leave thy iMary lonely, sorrowing here ? Oh ! Henry, Henry — leave me, leave me not ! Yet if thou wilt, O let me share thy lot. \1(X THE SHIPWRECK. And with thee go; my smiles shall cheer thy heart. When tempests frown ; be it my constant part To watch with thee, and on thy steps attend — Let Mary prove her Henry's faithful friend." Silent awhile he stood, then silence broke ; With quiv'ring tongue and trembling lips he spoke : " Thy words, my Mary, pierce my bleeding heart ; We must — alas ! my Mary, we must part. To go with Henry — no, it cannot be — I dare not trust thee on the treach'rous sea. Then stay thou here, and keep thy peaceful home. While I advent'rous on the billows roam; Cherish thy aged sire, be that thy care — All Henry asks is Mary's daily prayer : Till safe returning o'er the swelling tide. He claims his Mary for his faithful bride : Farewell — I go — they summons me away."^ " O go not yet, one moment longer stay," Mary replies ; " much have I yet to tell. Ere thee, my Henry, 1 can bid farewell." O, Love ! thou subtle power, what wiles are tried By thee, to win the bliss by cruel fate denied ; Within sweet Mary's breast thy potent spell Wound up a charm some tender tale to tell — Affection's pious fraud, her Henry to detain ; A lover's art she tried — perchance 'twas all in vain. " Last night," said Mary, " as I lay me down Upon my bed, all restless and alone, Terrific dreams disturb'd my transient rest. And wrought dread bodings in my aching breast; THE SHIPWRECK. 1 J "J A frightful vision flitted o'er my brain. My slumbers broke, nor dared I sleep again. Methought I saw the rolling deep enraged. With all the elements at war engaged ; Upon its boiling waves a lonely sail Was toss'd at random by the sweeping gale ! Anon methought I heard a horrid scream Come mingling with the storm ; my dreani It broke not, yet, with shuddering start, It shook my frame, and pierc'd my trembling heart ! Amid the uproar wild I cast my eyes. And saw the waves contending with the skies ; No ship was there upon the billows tost. Sunk, shatter'd, founder'd, ship and all was lost Beneath the wat'ry pile ! One moment more ' I anxious gazed : toward the craggy shore A struggling victim urged his feeble way, 'Mid beating billows and the lashing spray. He gain'd the side, he seiz'd the jutting rock. And stayed awhile his feet against the shock Of ruthless waves; joyful 1 watch'd him there. In seeming safety, offer up his prayer. How short my joy — no safety there he found — A bounding billow dash'd him from his ground; Borne down at once with one o'erwhelming sweep. That plunged him whirling headlong in the deep; Upward he turn'd his face as by the waves o'erpower'd ; Oh heavens ! 'twas Henry's self the greedy sea devour'd !" h3 118 THE SHIPWRECK, Weeping, distress'd, slic could no more. Her boding fears oppress'd too sore With dark imaginings her soul; And ev'ry ray of hope seem'd fled. And ev'ry smile of joy was dead. While sorrow rcign'd without control. Young Henry strove once more to cheer, By words and smiles, his Mary dear. And chase her grief away ; Soft were his words and soothing sweet. And as his smiles her tears did greet. He thus to her did say : " Cheer thee, love, and weep no more. Give thy fruitless sorrows o'er ; Wipe away those flowing tears. Banish all thy needless fears. Seek not troubles ere they come. Think not dreams can tell our doom. Make not evils ere they rise, Trust in him who rules the skies. Cheer thee, love, and smile again — Smile at all thy fancies vain ; Gloomy fears, and aching care. Dreams and visions banish far ; Let sweet comfort in thee spring. While I to thy remembrance bring Joys and pleasures sweeter far Than all thy phantom dreams can mar! THK SHIPWRECK. 119 " My Mary, love, hast thou forgot. When seated in yon mossy grot. Beneath the blooming myrtle grove. We pledg'd our hearts in mutual love; And when to each we gave a token That that sweet pledge might ne'er be broken. Thy pledge within my bosom lies Secure, conceal'd from vulgar eyes. While faithful love shall guard the prize. " Hast thou forgot, my Mary love. When wand'ring in that silent grove. We gain'd a lofty eminence. From whence we saw the wide expanse Sublime; the sable dome of night. Where clustering stars serenely bright. Like spangling pearl-drops quiv'ring shone. At random strewn within a velvet dome I Saw'st thou not then one brilliant star. Above the rest more beauteous far ? 'Twas Hesper — 'twas night's lovely queen. That smiled so sweetly on the scene Of solemn midnight ! O'er the verge. Where mingles sky with ocean surge, Ling'ring awhile she seem'd to stay. And sweetly smile her life away. We watch'd that star, and saw it set — That moment I can ne'er forget. While, Mary, leaning on thy breast, I saw it sweetly sink to rest. 120 THE SHIPWRECK. Thou sawst it too, my Mary dear ; The farewell tribute of a tear Thou paid, then wiped thine eye. While from thy bosom stole a sigh ; 1 heard it, yet I nought replied. But from my soul I answering sigh'd. " We made a vow upon that spot, Which, Mary, must not be forgot; We made a vow, and heaven above Was witness to that vow of love. When rolling seas divide us far. Nightly to watch that setting star We vow'd, and offer up our prayer, That heaven's peculiar guardian care Would keep us safe from danger's power. And guide us in each trying hour; And if o'erruling providence. That every blessing does dispense. Should grant the boon for which we pray, And hope and wish from day to day. That we on earth again may meet. Our joys will then be all complete; When free from danger and alarms, I clasp'd ray lovely Mary to my arms [" He smiling ceas'd, but Mary nought replies; Tears follow tears, and sighs on sighs arise ; Too big for utterance rose her sw-elling heart; She could not, would not, knew not how to part ! THE SHIPWRECK. 121 Tumultuous passions in her bosom swell. She trembles, faints, she cannot say farewell : He took her hand, he snatch'd a burning kiss From off her glowing cheek — O, cruel bliss. So cruelly to woo ! Again upon her cheek He prints affection's seal ; he could not speak. His heart was full ; he gazing, ling'ring stood. Irresolute; then, launch'd into the flood : He bid the rowers waft him from the shore, And while each splashing stroke still further bore. He gazed upon that form that he must see no more. Safe on board, young Henry meets His comrades blithe, and smiling greets. Begs pardon for delay : Then the pond'rous anchor's weigh'd. O'er the sweeping helm is laid. That brings her on her way. Clothed in all her power and might. Like an eagle plumed for flight. She darts across the bay ; Forward as she stately rides. The gladsome waters kiss her sides. And smiling billows round her play ! The boundless sea was all before, Behind them waned the distant shore. Above them shone the sun ; 122 THE SHIPWRECK. The swelling canvas caught the breeze. And swiftly through the yielding seas Their joyful course they run. Higher still the sun uprose. Still the breeze more briskly blows. O'er the waves they swifter flew j Till the cerulean concave skj', Join'd ocean's green convexity, And shut the land from view. Onward still she gaily went. Through the liquid element ; Furrows in the trackless deep Still she plough'd with ceaseless sweep ; Still brisk as first she did begin. Was her restless journeying. A little world she seem'd to be. Floating on a boundless sea ; All around her one wide waste. Shoreless, desolate, and vast ! Mirth and jollity went round ; Thoughtless joy and cheerful mood. Broke the silent deep profound Of the watery solitude. Jokes, and gibes, and jovial glee, And laughter loud, float o'er the sea; Many a thoughtless heart was gay, Many a tale was told that day,. THE SHIPWRECK, J23 Of foreign lands where they had been. And wonders rare that each had seen ; Each striving to outstrip the rest. And make the tale he told the best. One laughing told, with vaunting boast. How, once when he was tempest-tost. The raging sea rose mountains high. And dash'd the ship against the sky ! How on a billowy ridge she swung, Quiv'ring awhile self-balanc'd hung ! Till the mad wind, with boist'rous breath, HeavM the huge pile from underneath ; Then downward, downward, down she fell. Like a huge fiend from heaven to hell ! Where the dark whirlpools of the deep Boil'd eddying round with dizzying sweep ; How 'mid the uproar dark and wild. The grim sea monsters ghastly smil'd ! There thronging around gaped the greedy shark. While the ravenous sea-wolves yelling bark; And the jagged rocks jutted out of the wave. To snatch them away to their watery grave; And the jaws of death were on ev'ry side. While above and below roar'd the maniac tide! How thence they escap'd, and what befel. He told, — but the tale is too long to tell; Yet ending, he turn'd to his comrades gay. And dash'd with a joke storm and tempest away I 124 THE SHIPWRECK. Then another would tell, with mirthful glee, How he set sail to the northern sea, For Greenland's desolate snow-clad shore. Where the frost-bitten billows crackle and roar ; Where the hugeroUingwhalesand the whiteshaggy bear. In (he wild horrid waste make their residence there; Where the Esquimaux builds him a hut in the snow. And hunts for the seal with his spear and bow ; Where one day and one night make the length of a year. The day was all sunshine, all darkness and drear Was the night; and the twinkling stars never set. But glitter'd around like lamps in a cavern of jet ! Where the harpooner bold at the prow of his boat. Barbs the huge whales as sleeping they float On the sea; then up spouts a torrent of blood, And crimsons the waves of the crystallized flood ; Plunging and writhing beneath the death-smart, Down the vast deep like an arrow they dart. And speed with the swiftness of lightning away ; Yet all was in vain, for they captur'd the prey ; They tow'd it along, they cut up the spoil. And loaded the ship with a cargo of oil ! From gay to grave he chang'd his vaunting tone. To suit his tale, and thus again went on : Homeward then they steer'd their way. And left the slowly sinking day ; The swelling canvas urged their flight From regions of approaching night, THE SHIPWRECK. 125 And bore them from that country rude Of soul-inspiring solitude ; Where scenes magnificent and grand They pass'd, and saw on either hand : Where ice-bergs tall, sublime, and vast. Majestic, slowly moving past ! By winter's architecture piled In various shapes, grotesque and wild ; Where caves and grottos darkly frown'd. And threw their cavern-gloom around ; Where magic palaces and halls. With floors of glass, and crystal walls ; Where jasper columns tower aloof. To prop the arching marble roof, While wreathed stalactites sparkling bright. Shed round a dubious unusual light; Where never mortal dared intrude. To break its awful solitude ! Where domes and spires glittering shone. Lit by a never setting sun ! Where from each precipice's height Shrinks with dread awe the aching sight. While pond'rous crags hang awfully. And cast dread shadows o'er the sea ! Where icy pinnacles from far Shone like many a beamy star; Where crystal rocks were piled on high. And towers and turrets touch'd the sky ! 'Tis here (he cried) we winter see Clothed in all his majesty : 12G THE SHIPWRECK. Here winter stern has fix'd his throne. And rules despotic and alone. He, is crown'd in an ice-gemm'd coronet, With sparkling pearls around beset; The crystal sceptre in his hand, Sways far and wide o'er sea and land ; While o'er his wrinkled form he throws A spotless robe of polar snows ! On the chain'd waves he holds his court. Around him tempests, storms resort. Waiting obedient his command. To wreak his ire on sea or land ! While his handmaid frost, as she goes before. Paves for him a polish'd marble floor; Each billowy crest she charms to sleep, And smooths his way o'er the rolling deep : Seated aloft on his jasper car. The voice of his conung is heard from afar. As onward he drives in his wild career. For a whirlwind blast is his charioteer ! Of India's rich clime then Henry told. Where the tiger so fierce, and the lion so bold. Roam prowling around through each jungle and wood. And quench their parch'd thirst in a banquet of blood ! Where the citron groves, and the cassia's bloom. Make the breezes drunk with their richest perfume; Where the orange trees all their beauties unfold. To the sun as he glows, in clust'ring gold ! THE SHIPWRECK. JO/ Where spices and gums, frankincense and myrrh. Aromatic, odoriferous incense prefer ! Where the elephant huge with his ivory tusk. And the wild mountain cat with her wallet of musk. And the Cashmere goat with his soft silken hair. And the antelope nimble, and clumsy black bear; The rhinoceros arm'd in his bucklers of flint. Which musket balls pierce not, and swords cannot dint; The wild mule and monkey, and ape and gazelle. Live in wilderness, mountain, and forest, and dell ! Where the crocodiles, cased in their scaly pride. Lie basking in swarms on the Ganges' tide ; [stings, W^here huge serpents and scorpions, and vipers with And some tell of fiery dragons with wings ! The boa-constrictor, and death-stinging snake. Here repose in the shade, or bask in the brake ! Here monsters terrific, and deadly, and fell, 'Mid grandeur, and beauty, and loveliness dwell ! The peacock is here clothed in purple and gold. And splendour beams round as his plumes are unroH'd ; On pinions of strength the crown'd eagle will soar. And the falcon and vulture defile them in gore; Here the paradise-bird, with its purple-wav'd crest. And its long tap'ring tail, and its snowy white vest; And the pagoda thrush, as she sings on the shrine. The wild Indians adore her, and count her divine ! ■"Mid the groves and the woods the wild parrot is seen, Deck'd in crimson and gold, and azure and green ; And the pelicans there of the desert and flood, [blood ! Bare their breasts to their young, and treat them with 128 THE SHIPWRECK. Where myriads of insects with gossamer wings, Thro' the gardens and groves take their wanderings. And their rainbow hues they steal from the sun. As they quiver and flutter till daylight be done ; Then as the sun sets, and the day yields to night. Come the fire-flies drest in their tunics of light. Trooping onward by millions all glitt'ring and bright! In the darkling recess of the banyan tree, They train up their lamps for the revelry ; From the tamarind's broad base to the top of its spire. They blaze like a conical pillar of fire ! The rivers of Ind, in magnificent might. Roll down from the snow-cover'd mountains' height j The Indus flows onward majestic and bold. While Ganges the holy rolls o'er beds of gold ! In the caves of the mountains shut out from the sight. Glowing and sparkling, the diamond shines bright; The red ruby is there, and the sapphire blue ; The amethyst there, and the onyx-stone grow ; There, matchless in beauty, unrivali'd, alone. Clothed in heavenly blue, shines the azure-stone ! Alabasters snow-pillar'd, and garnets red. And the speckle-straked marble in its deep quarry bed. Here rocks piled on rocks, and huge mountains arise. That pierce thro' the clouds and advance to the skies ! Here sultry and hot is the fierce torrid glare Of the sun, as he darts down his beams on the air ; The hurricane here, and the tornado sweep Sublime o'er the land, and career on the deep ! THE SHIPWRECK. 129 The thunder exploding, peals loud on the gale. While the tempest is pouring- its cataracts of hail ; And the lightnings, like arrows of vengeance are hurl'd. With a blue flickering glare o'er the trembling world ! Here summer and spring go on hand in hand. Together rejoicing through all the glad land : 'Tis a land of delights, ^tis a region of bliss. Where good, fraught with evil (as ever it is) In their widest extremes together unite, That pleasure and torture the senses and sight ! Where poisons and perfumes, and spices and plagues, Seem to make with each other their mutual leagues ! Where flowers and forests, rocks craggy and bare. Make a paradise sweet, and a wilderness drear ! Where the gems of its mountains, and gold of its mine. Make the wealthy man proud, and the poor man repine. Where through her vales o'erflowing rivers swell, W^here suns congenial shine, where frowns the storm In awful majesty, where terrors dwell. And grandeur reigns in her sublimest form ! The list'ning crew applaud 6ach tale. When suddenly " A sail, a sail !" From ev'ry tongue transpir'd : Lonely and wand'ring o'er the deep. To claim a short companionship. The signal-gun was fir'd. Far in the west the flitting barge Faintly caught the loud discharge. And answer'd the salute : 130 THE SHIPWRECK. One monjent ling'ring still in view. The welcome spoke the last adieu. And all again was mute ! The sun had gain'd his mid-day hour. And rode enthron'd in highest power. The breeze still bore them on j Anticipation swell'd each breast. While fond remembrance loved to rest On joys and pleasures gone. The present moment still was theirs, The past had fled with all its cares. The future was to come : A smiling- sky, a prosp'rous breeze. Bore them through the rolling seas. To meet their destined doom. PART SECOND. Gaily she danc'd on the emerald waves. As trips along o'er the green turf graves, A virgin clothed in her bridal vest; Who asks not, nor recks not, nor wishes to know Who are the dead that are sleeping below. Weary pilgrims taking their rest. THE SHIPWRECK. 131 AH is sunshine and pleasure above. And her smile is the sweet smile of love ; For she sees not the ravenous worm In his banquetting^ hall, on a cheek once as fair And as blushing as her's, ere the spoiler came there. With his cank'rous teeth to deform ! From morn to noon the gallant bark Onward steadily pursued her track ; From noon to night she urged her way ; From op'ning morn to closing day. And now the sun that on them shone. Declining, leaves them all alone ; Descending from his azure seat. Majestically he moves to meet Ocean's swelling, bounding waves. And 'midst her cooling billows laves His fiery orb : behold him now, A world of blazing gold ! whose glow Kindles the waters to a molten sea, A burnish'd mirror, liquid, smooth, and free ! Slowly descending on the utmost verge Of the sea's bright and glassy surge. He seems to pause; his full-orbed flaming ball Rests its circumference on the liquid pall. That soon will, like a darkling cloud. Quench its bright beams beneath the billowy .shroud ! Now he begins to sink amid the flood, ►Silent and soft as midnight solitude; While deeper still his convex disk immerges Beneath the waves ; buoy'd on the emerald surges, I 2 132 THE SHIPWRECK. Like a balloon of fire it floats sublime ; Huge, round, and bright, — true chronicler of time ! Now half immers'd, it looks a golden dome. Magnificent and vast ! Imperial Rome, 'Mid all thy boasted architectural pride. One stands alone pre-eminent ; all beside Is one wide ruin, while its vaulted roof Still undecay'd exists — a mighty proof Of man's bold efforts and capacious mind. To rear that structure vast, thus nobly designed ; In mimic'd miniature it seems another sky. So round, so wide, so spacious, and so high ! Yet see thy rival here, imperial Rome, In yon bright ball of fire — yon glorious dome. Resting its base upon a jasper floor; And yet it rests not, tarries not, no more Than time can rest or stay its rapid flight; Still sinking solemnly it steals from sight. And now a belt of burnish'd gold it seems. And yet it seems not so; a fairy's dreams Change not so imperceptibly as this : 'Tis now a star — and now beneath th' abyss It sinks, extinguish'd like a trembling spark — One moment gleams, expires, and all is dark ! And now the genius of the ev'ning hour, Upon a purple cloud, glides softly o'er The sky, painting the bright cerulean blue With fretted gold, and shades of crimson hue. Now dubious gloominess steals slowly by. And now a darker hue pervades the crimson'd sky. THE SHIPWRECK. 133 Upon the balanc'd verge of night and day, Now twilight sits enthron'd with sceptred sway; Holding in either hand the mystic chain. Symbol of sov'reign power's despotic reign. That links for ever fast with firm control. Darkness and light as onward still they roll ! The curious prying stars begin to peep. Like phantom spirits through the azure deep ; And one by one they glancing come like spies; Or, dropt untimely from their native skies. Seem lost, and wonder if 'tis night or day ; Cast round a languid look, yet dare not stay : But shrinking back abash'd, as if afraid, They quick retire, until a deeper shade Again invites them forth ; now bolder grown. They stand confess'd to sight — yet not alone They stand : ten thousand more amain Come trooping on, like fancies o'er the brain. Dubious and wild, not fashion'd yet to thought, 'Twixt certain and uncertain, reality and naught! Anon, another shade, a deeper, darker hue, Marshali'd them on bright, sparkling, full in view : Ling'ring behind ten thousand more to come. Deep in th' abyss of space, await the gloom More gloomy still, their tardy beams to show ; Touch'd by night's ebon-wand that sets them in a glow. And now the last faint ray of twilight fled. And all around was dark ; now bolder shed The tim'rous stars their kindling beams of light. With brightest glory round the vault of night ! I 3 134 'l'"E SHIPWRECK. Peaceful and still the ocean slept serene. Deep, shoreless, vast, beneath the solemn scene ; While from above night's brilliant myriads glow. And gild the sky, and gild the waves below ! Above them, and beneath, and all around. Was one vast firmament of stars profound ; The ship a bauble in the centre hung, Self-equipois'd as in a balance swung. Amid ten thousand worlds, whose sparkling blaze On every side reflected bright erratic rays ! 'Mid the deep solitude of boundless space ! Yet onward still she sped her ceaseless race; Softly and silently she onward went, A floating speck on the dark waveless element ! Like a lone cloudlet in a summer's sky, 'Mid the deep azure stealing softly by. Through the midnight air sublime. Noiseless as the flight of time, Fleeting on with motion soft. It sails majestically aloft; Anon the lonely wanderer Perchance blots out a beamy star. And evermore as on it steals. Eclipses now, and now reveals The twinkling orbs that cross its flight O'er the dusky vault of night : A tow'ring mountain's hoary crest, Rising abrupt above the rest, With its awful snow-clad top Bids the noiseless wand'rer stop ; THE SHIPWRECK. 135 'Gainst its rugged peak it strikes, Dash'd, confus'd, it falls and breaks; Wreck'd and torn without a blast. Its passive form dissolves at last In dew, bright and clear as beauty's tears ; It sinks, and falls, and disappears ! Like the lonely wand'ring cloud. Through darkness, night, and solitude. Smoothly glides with gentle motion. The gallant bark across the ocean; And one by one eclips'd each star. That glitt'ring shone reflected there. The winds in their echoing caves wer^ sleeping. The zephyrs their midnight watch were keeping. The sea curl'd not with their fragile breath. But all was still — 'twas the stillness of death ! He was waving o'er them his ebon wand. He beckon'd them on with his viewless hand. 'Twas such a night as the old legends would say. When the mermaids' scream, and the sea-calves' bay. Were heard echoing o'er the deep ; and the sprite And the dismal ghost, perform'd their mystic rite : And from the dark caves of the vasty deep The wild water- spirits their vigils keep With the spirits of air; and converse hold. And whisper such secrets as may not be told : How the mariner shipwreck'd deep in the gulph. Where the ravenous shark, and the water wolf 136 THE SHIPWRECK. Hold conflict fierce with the monsters grinfi. While they tear the dead corpse and the mangled limb : Then they utter such sounds as can only be heard By a mariner's ear ; as the signal word Of the doom that awaits, — 'tis the cry of despair — The shriek and the scream, floating on thro' the air— The noise of the waters, the wrestle, the strife — The conflict with death, the struggle for life — The shout and the groan, and the horrible yell — ■ 'Tis the sailor's adieu, and the lover's farewell ! The stars were shining bright and fair. The waveless sea was still and calm. Untroubled was the midnight air. And naught proclaim'd a coming storm. All, all were sunk in quiet sleep. Save the steersman at the helm. And Henry, who the watch did keep. Lest treach'rous seas o'erwhelm. He trod the deck with measur'd pace. Like a sentinel going his round; Foreboding dread seem'd to dwell on his face. As he gazed on the deep profound. *Twas so silent above, so still below. The ship scarce ruflied the sea with her prow; So awful the pause, that it seem'd to be The foreboding of some sad calamity. THE SHIPWRECK. Yet on he paced in thoughtful mood. And the pleasures of mem'ry seem'd fled. While wrapt in the depths of solitude, The bright visions of hope were all dead. His soul within him seem'd to sink, Amaz'd, bewilder'd, lost ; He felt a dread, yet dared not think Of what he dreaded most ! He paus'd, and watch'd each setting star; Then watch'd the rising moon. Shooting her safiVon beams afar. From behind the darken'd gloom Of the cloudy ridge that gathering stood. Like a chain of hills, in the orient sky, Resting their base on the ocean flood, Tow'ring their beam-crested tops on high ! Anxious he gazed on the solemn scene. And long'd for the moon to appear ; Hoping, vain hope ! that her smiles serene The gloom of his bosom would cheer. Yet still behind the dark barrier cloud. Diverging her rays thwart the sky. She lingering staid, still veil'd by the shroud That blasted his hopes : then a sigh 13/ 138 THE SHIPWRECK. From his bosom escaped, as he took The sweet pledge of affection from thence. To steal 'mid the twilight a look. At that face that was far away hence. He gazed through the gloom of the night. On the features of her he ador'dj Then press'd to his lips, then feasted his sight. Then he sigh'd, but he spoke not a word : He spoke not, but sigh'd for his Mary dear. Then gazed on the heavens above ; Yet none that sigh was permitted to hear, Breath'd warm from the bosom of love. Fanning his locks came a gentle breeze. That round him awhile seem'd to play ; Then lightly swept o'er th' unruffled seas. And wafted his sighs far away. Once more he rous'd him from the thoughtful mood. O'er which in lonely hours he lov'd to brood ; And paced again the deck, as onward still He sail'd, in seeming safety of coming ill. The moon was darken'd yet, as if some magic spell Had bound her there, to shine invisible ! Anon, she from a crevice of the cloud. That veil'd her beauty with its murky shroud. With placid lustre forth began to peep. And cast long lines of splendour o'er the deep. THE SHIPWRECK. 139 Joyful he hail'd the light; intensely as he gaz'd Around, the radiant beauty streaming blazM: And as he gaz'd, as if to bid farewell. One darting ray on Mary's picture fell ! Enraptur'd, to his lips the pledge he press'd ; Yet, ere that pledge of love could be caress'd. The passing ray had fled, and gloomy night Snatch'd the lov'd image from his eager sight ! He turn'd his head with an upbraiding look Toward the moon, yet not a word he spoke ; But stooping down, as if in act to kneel To bounteous heaven, to offer his appeal : Yet ere upon the deck he down had knelt, A sudden crash was heard, a sudden shock was felt ! Dash'd by the stroke, young Henry staggering fell Upon the deck, yet whence he could not tell : There as he panting, bruis'd, and wondering lay. The giddy ship no longer own'd the sway Of helm or sails ; but, reeling to and fro. Like one convuls'd and writhing in his woe. With dizzying whirl she spun confus'd around ; And back recoiling from the mortal wound, Inflicted by the jutting craggy rock In ambush hid : rebounding from the shock. She rnsh'd stern foremost through the surging tide. That parting rose in waves on either side. And clos'd again as o'er the poop they dash'd, With rolling swell, and from the rudder wash'd The struggling pilot headlong down the deep ! Down as she sinks, the billows round her sweep j 1 40 THE SHIPWRECK. . The parting- timbers groan^ the iron rivets break. And gushing waters burst through ev'ry leak ! The mizz'n-uiast trembled, quiver'd, totter'd, fell : From the dark hold arose a dismal yell Of drowning men, awoke from peaceful sleep. To fight and struggle with th' invading deep. Flound'ring with sullen plunge from side to side, They wildly rush t' escape the murd'rous tide; Battling the waves in vain; th* insidious foe Pursues too close to let its victims go : Engulp'd they fall, and yield their gasping breath In bubbles forth, and close their eyes in death ! Henry alone remain'd of all the crew ; All, all the rest the ruthless waves o'erthrew. Alone he stood upon the midway deck. And watch'd the progress of the sinking wreck ! With folded hands, and stedfast look, aghast He stood, unmoved, beside the splinter'd mast. And clench'd with firm embrace his Mary's picture fast. Downward, deeper and more deep she goes. Higher as th' encroaching flood arose ; Hemm'd round, and close besieg'd on ev'ry side ; Swift up the bulwarks climbs the rising tide ; While bursting furious from the hold below. Waves rolls o'er waves, and half the deck o'erflow. Advancing rapidly where Henry stands they come, Hoarse murmuring as they roll his awful doom ; Iiost in a transport of despair he stood, 3egirt around by the circumfluent flood. THE SHIPWRECK. 141 Still climbing up, the waters midway meet On the ridg'd deck, and roll o'er Henry's feet ! They reach his knees, and higher as they rise. Bathe with their saline waves his shivering thighs ; Now round his waist they clasp with cold embrace. While the pale star-beams glitter on his face. Reflected thence. Now down the gloomy deep Sinks the once gallant ship with sudden sweep; Down, down she sinks, still faster and more fast. Till the proud waves o'ertop her towering mast ! Commotions through the waters circling run. And bubbling whirlpools round the vortex spun : Suck'd by the surging waves, down Henry sinks, Engulp'd amid the salt sea flood ; and drinks. Struggling, convuls'd, Avith suffocated breath, A nauseous draught of brine, foretaste of death ! Yet soon emerging from the dark abyss. He buoyant floats ; the rippling waters hiss Around his head, and splash within his ears. With noise incessant; while his growing fears See death before him dance on every wave. And every billow gape to be his grave ; While the hoarse music of the ocean's swell. Seems the dire requiem of his funeral knell ! Still struggling on, with feeble strife, 'Mid the dark waves that seek his life. His nerveless arms no more can sweep Him onward through the yielding deep; But sinking down, enfeebled, numb. His •wearied faculties o'ercome. 142 THE SHIPWRECK. He yields him to his awful fate. All struggling o'er, resign'd to wait Till the next wave, with rippling crest. Plunge him below to endless rest ! Now reft of hope, save " hope on high," Convuls'd in his last agony. He cast his dying eyes around Upon the wat'ry wide profound ; His vacant glance caught from afar The last bright twinkling of a starj He saw it on the ocean's brink Trembling stand, then saw it sink : A sudden thrill rush'd through his soul. That death's keen pangs could not control. " What voice is that ? Ah ! can it be ? This moment Mary prays for me ! I hear it floating through the air — Great God, accept my Mary's prayer ! Sweet as the harp of seraphim Comes my Mary's midnight hymn ; Sweet as an angel's holiest song. It softly breathing floats along ; Joy to my drooping soul it brings. And heavenly hope within me springs ! Again for me my Mary prays. Again before the throne of grace She offers up her fervent prayer ; Again it comes upon the air; It hovers round — I hear it now — Grant, Lord of all, my Mary's vow! THE SHIPWRECK. 143 f Father of light, to thee I cry ; I faint, I yield, I sink, I die ! Receive my soul !" The swelling surge RoU'd o'er his head; his dying dirge . Was wafted through the midnight air; And silence deep absorb'd his pious prayer. One bubbling cry through the waters rush'd. One stifled groan, then all was hush'd : Bright shone the stars as they shone before ; And the sea still slept on its pebbled shore : Mild was the night; serene was the air. And placid and calm ; the heavens were fair, — The ocean was still, reposing at rest, With a waveless swell o'er its heaving breast; And the cold moon shone on the placid wave. That shrouded the ship and the mariner's grave? And where is the ship that was sailing past. With its bellying canvas, and tall taper mast. And its painted hull, and curious carv'd prow. And its merchandise rich in the cabins below; And her stern bedeck'd out with designs rich and rare. And its pennons gay floating aloft in the air ? She was struck like an eagle pursuing her flight. And down she has gone to the regions of night; And the spot where she lies shall ne'er be reveal'd. Till the ocean's unroll'd, and the heaven's unseal'd. And thecrewthat were merry,and joked, and laugh'd. And the crew that were frisky, and caper'd and quaflf'd. 144 THE SHIPWRECK. And were thoughtless and gay, and dream'd not of sorrow, [morrow ; But new pleasures had planned for the coming to- Where are they now ? — all is still and serene. And silence alone rules the peaceful terrene. And as hush'd is the mirth as it never had been. Theyaregone,theyaregone — far, far, downthedeep; Where together they rest, together they sleep — And the waves that roll o'er them their secrets shall keep. PART THIRD. Her Henry gone, yet Mary ling'ring stood. Intently gazing on the boundless flood ; She watch'd the ship receding far away Beyond the confines of the spacious bay ; And lessening still, as onward still she went. With eagle speed, across the liquid element ; Till like a speck between the sea and sky. She seem'd to float — too distant for the eye Aught to discern, except the topmast's height. That, still receding, vanish'd from the sight. Yet Mary, still, upon the rolling main. Gazed eager as before, but gaz'd in vain : Naught met her view, but one wide waste expanse Of sky and waters ! Waking from her trance. She turn'd her head and wept in silence there ; But checking soon her grief, she wip'd each tear. THE SHIPWRECK. 145 That trickling roll'd, bright sparkling, down her cheek. And homeward sped ; while resignation meek Took calm possession of her troubled breast. And sweetly lulPd each boding fear to rest: While smiling hope danc'd round her beating heart. And softly whisper'd — " Never more shall part Thy Henry from his Mary, when again He comes to bless thee o'er the rolling main !" Cheerful she turn'd, and left the sea-beat shore With nimble step, and gain'd her cottage door. Seated beneath the woodbine's perfum'd shade, Her aged sire waiting her coming staid. And wonder'd much that she so long delay'd. He rose to meet her as she tripp'd along. And ask'd the reason why she staid so long; She, blushing, own'd her fault ; gently he reprov'd. Then press'd her to his heart, and bless'd the child he lov'd. With swift alacrity and filial cares. She for her sire a rich repast prepares Of nect'rous cream, ripe fruits, and cakes of bread, Which with officious care she on the table spread ; While waiting at his side with joyous eyes. Anticipates each wish, and ev'ry want supplies ; Yet claiming for her love and kind regard Her parent's smile as Mary's rich reward. The banquet ended, now with cheerful will Her daily tasks of industry fulfil; Her house affairs, and each thing that relates Thereto, she orders, executes, and regulates. K 14G THE SHIPWRECK. Exact with quick dispatch and nicest care/ Where strict economy holds equal share With liberality, that welcomes ev'ry guest With gen'rous heart, and offers him the best. Each household duty faithfully perform'd. She leaves her aged sire; her bosom warm'd With love's pure flame, as through the cottage door She went, to vi.sit scenes oft visited before. When all was joy, and Henry by her side Attended, as her lover, guardian, guide. Through woody copse she went, and fiow'ry lawn. Where sparkling bright still shone the dews of morn; With nimble step along th' enamell'd meads She rov'd at will ; and now the path that leads Across the upland steep, beside the oak Knotted and dwarf'd by time, her way she took ; Then round the hill, and by the limpid pool. Whence flows a streamlet sparkling, clear, and cool, 'Mid summer's heat, at noontide's scorching hours> Meand'ring still 'mong tufted shrubs and flow'rs. As through each varied scene her way she took. O'er the wide mead, or by the babbling brook, Warm'd by the sun the smiling landscape lay. And hill, and dale, and woods, and fields, were gay. Yet, ever and anon, she pausing stood On hill, in dale, in field, and shady wood ; By the stream's margin, by the glassy lake ; But'neath the stunted oak thelongestpauseshe'd make: And from that eminence abrupt and steep. She'd cast her longing eyes across the deep. THE SHIPWRECK. 147 And gaz'd intently on the tranquil scene, Where nought 'twixt sea and sky did intervene; And bring to her remembrance how oft Upon that spot, with winning words and soft, Her Henry whisper'd to her list'ning ear His vows of love, that she alone might hear; How oft, when seated on the twisted root Of that gnarl'd oak, with admiration mute. Has she drunk in the accents of his tongue ; And as each tender tale he told, enraptur'd hung On each fond word he spoke ; then smil'd applause. And wish'd he'd tell it o'er, but yet conceal'd the cause. How oft beside the crystal pool they stood. And view'd their features mirror'd in the flood ; And when his piercing eye, with flashing rays. Met sudden on the lake her timid gaze. Blushing, abash'd, she modestly withdrew. And on some other object fix'd her view. Yet to her Henry still her heart was true. How oft when walking through the flow'ry lawn. At noon, at even, or at early morn. Has Henry for his Mary chose the best And sweetest flow'rs, and plac'd them on her breast; Then snatch'd as his reward a blushing kiss. Earnest of present joy and future bliss! How oft together through the shady grove They walk'd, and talk'd, and vow'd eternal love ; Or listen'd with delight to the melodious thrush. Warbling its song of praise from tufted bush^ k2 148 THE SHIPWRECK. Or towering tree ; or wild wood-pigeon's not6. Whose melancholy wooings seem'd to float With sonorous monotony through grove and vale. In plaintive murm'rings like a lover's tale. List'ning to each sweet sound, each pleasing sight, All these she saw and heard with fond delight. When Henry by her side enjoy'd them too. And by his presence made each lovely view More lovely seem, and each melodious sound With sweeter, richer, melody resound. But now alone she wander'd, far and wide. With none to solace, comfort, guard, or guide; In vain she look'd on each familiar scene, Henry was there no more, as he had been ; In vain she look'd upon the ocean's face. For naught of Henry could she thither trace j Yet not disconsolate, and undismay'd. On providence alone her mind was stay'd. Her hopes bright shining like the morning sun. Through her calm soul in tranquil circles run ; Present, and past, and future she compar'd ; The past was gone — its pleasures she had shar'd. When Henry's smiles and conversation sweet First won her heart, and fast enthrall'd it yet. The present, with its fleeting moments, stole Swiftly by, and fiU'd the ever-panting soul With sweet anticipations of some future bliss, More rich and more superlative than this; THE SHU'WRECK. J^Q When joy, and love, and happiness combin'd. Like wreaths of ever-blooming flow'rs entwin'd. Shall link for ever fast each willing heart and mind. Now ev'ning came, and with it came the night. Clothed in her sable vest, that stole from sight The fading landscape, once so fair, till all Was hid beneath her starry spangled pall. That wrapt the world in universal gloom. While nature slept serene within her glittering tomb ! Welcome the shades of night to Mary came; 'Tis love's own province, 'tis the lover's claim. For ever hallow'd ; Mary claim'd it now. To prove her love, and pay her plighted vow. A silken vest enwrought of crimson hue. Her Henry's gift, Mary around her threw ; And forth she went amid the gloomy scene. To that sweet spot where oft before she'd been. When Henry led the way in days gone by. Which fond remembrance hallow'd with a sigh : To that sweet spot where each fond pledge was given. The last and dearest pledge, while smiling heaven, With all its stars, bright sparkling round them shone. In witness of the deed so purely done ; While hope, and faith, and resignation seal'd The bond of love, to heaven alone reveal'd ! To this sweet, silent, solitary spot. This mountain-temple, sylvan-shady grot. Came lovely Mary, blushing as she came. Amid the gloom : say, was it aught of shame k3 ]50 THE SHIPWRECK. That made her blush, or aught of guilty fear ? No shame, no guilty dread had dwelling there ; 'Twas conscious innocence that sweetly smil'd Upon her damask cheek as up the hill she toil'd. Upon that eminence she stood, and gaz'd around. On earth, and sea, and sky ; boundless, deep, profound ! Then down she knelt beneath the fretted roof Of that lone grot, where twisting ivy crept aloof. In wreaths that everlasting greenness wore. And garlanded in thick festoons the door. The tufted moss a silken carpet spread Upon the floor, soft to th' elastic tread Of Mary's feet. Around its rugged walls The perfum'd woodbine twisting zigzag crawls. And clasps with curling tendrils 'mid crannies fast. And waves and floats, nor fears the howling blast. Down Mary knelt beneath the fretted roof Of that lone grot, and ofl^ered up this proof Of humble gratitude and filial love. To him who sits enthron'd in light above. " O ! thou Almighty and Eternal God, Who in the earth and heavens mak'st thy abode; Who rules o'er all things, all things guides and sways By thine own might, thine own mysterious ways ; Who guides the stars, and bids them roll and shine. Rejoicing in their course; whose power divine Directs the tempest, lets the thunders roll, And the barb'd lightnings flash from pole to pole; Who rules the ocean raging in the storm ; Whose look subdues its wrath, and all is calm; THE SHIPWRECK. 151 Who rides upon the whirlwind's furious blast, Curbs its tempestuous speed, and binds it fast; Who gilds the sun each morn in robes of light. And bids him chase the gloom of dusky night; Whose actions all are good, and wise, and just; Assist me, holy God, in thee to trust: Be thou my guide, preserve me, keep me here. And fix within my heart thy humble fear; My soul enlighten, teach me grace and love, And send my spirit comfort from above. Bless me, O God ; my soul and body bless. And teach me here to feel true happiness : Yet if thy providence, for some more wise design. See good to frustrate this prayer of mine. And send thy chastisements of love severe, O grant me patience, grant me strength, to bear ; Let not repining murmurs fill my soul 'Gainst heaven's decrees, or providence' control ; Grant resignation, meek humility ; O give me faith to put my trust in thee ! Thus for myself, O God, 1 humbly pray. Turn not thy gracious ear, O God, away. " My prayer is feeble, yet thou canst inspire; Bless, O my Maker, bless my aged sire ; Shed thy pure grace abroad within his soul. Comfort his drooping frame, and make him whole; Give health and strength to his declining years. While journeying onward in this vale of tears ; May joy and gladness reign without control, Pure, undcfil'd, for ever in his soul ! 152 THE SHIPWRECK. May spectred care and peevish discontent Ne'er enter there ; O, gracious God, prevent Th' approach of sickness, and of dire disease; Permit no torturing pain my sire to seize. But grant him long to live in happiness and ease ! " And next, for one to thee 1 humbly pray. Who floats o'er bounding billows far away ; Forgive, O God, if here I ask amiss. For blessings on his head : yet Henry bless With thy peculiar care, shield him from ill. And 'mid the frowning storm be his protector still. When danger threatens be thou ever near. To animate his breast, his drooping soul to cheer j When the wild waves arise in deadly strife. And tempest-tost his ship, O save his life ! Bid the rude winds suspend their boist'rous breath. Calm the fierce waves, and snatch his soul from death. Yet if thy providence that rules o'er all. Immensely vast, or infinitely small. Permit the winds to blow, the waves to roar. And dash his bark against the rocky shore ; Ere she is swallow'd down the boiling deep, O grant him courage, grant him strength, to leap From the devouring waves, far up the craggy steep j There keep hinci sure, till winds and waves be past. Then guide him safely to my home at last. " These things I humbly ask ; may heaven grant Each pious wish, and satisfy each want ; But each unholy thought, each impious wish pass by. Grant what thou wilt, and what thou wilt deny; THE SHIPWRECK. 153 Come joy or grief, come pain or pleasure free. Teach me, O God, to put my trust in thee !" She paus'd, yet kneeling silently ador'd ; With eyes uplifted, from her soul she pour'd Her holy aspirations sweetly forth, In ardent breathings, pure, unsullied worth : Then, rising from her knees, she stood once more Beneath night's canopy, while rolling o'er. Ten thousand stars blaz'd round on ev'ry side, In beaming splendour, bright erratic pride ! Then as she gaz'd, she pointed to the sky. Yet ere she spoke she heav'd a tender sigh ; 'Twas memory's tribute — memory's fondest token — That told of things that never can be spoken. Then Mary thus : " Dear Henry, oft hast thou. When yon fair sapphires brightly glow In night's dark hemisphere, each star explain'd. And clust'ring constellations shewn and nam'd: Where in high heaven the fierce Orion rolls. In blazing splendour midway 'twixt the poles; With starry baldric girt, the mighty hunter shines Conspicuous forth, amid the zodiac signs. Around the frozen pole, the surly Bear Creeps on his sluggish pace from year to year; Yet, like a faithful sentinel that never sleeps. Unwearied in his rounds a constant watch he keeps; And ever points, with an unerring aim. To yon minute, pellucid, flickering flame. That fix'd remains, and ever stedfast burns, A sapphire axle bright, round which all nature turns ! ]54 THE SHIPWRECK. Sweet gem of beauty, lovely polar star ! Guide with thy faithful beams the lonely mariner, As o'er the desert ocean still he strays. And cheer his heart with thy nocturnal blaze ! " Upon this hill, has Henry's piercing eyes Descried each distant star ; the myst'ry of the skies He here unfolded to my wond'ring sense. And taught me to explore yon azure deep immense. Where endless systems ceaseless circuits run. And ev'ry twinkling star beams forth a radiant sun ! " And thou, sweet star, more beautiful than all That roll and glitter round this earthly ball. Now blazing, radiant, verging down the west; My Henry bid me watch thee sink to rest; And as thy placid beams were one by one Extinguish'd in the deep, till all were gone. He bid me wish a wish, and breathe a sigh. And think of him, and pray, when none were nigh. With impious tongues to scoft', or gaze with envious eye. Then here I'll stand, and watch thy beauty fade. Till thy loved image melts into the shade ; And as to thy last smiles I bid adieu, I'll heave a sigh, and pray for Henry too !" Then round she gaz'd upon the starry host That blaz'd above : in silent adoration lost. She contemplating view'd the grand design. That spake its mighty maker all divine ; Then on her fav'rite star she fix'd her gaze. Once more attracted by its pure, untarnish'd blaze { THE SHIPWRECK. 155 A little cloud was sailing through the sky; Skirting the Occident^ it flitted bj'. And ere bright Hesper vanish'd from the night. The vagrant wand'rer o'ertook her tardy flight. And blotted from the sky her clear, pellucid light ! With trembling fears gaz'd Mary on the spot. Where linger'd long the omen-cloudy blot : She turn'd her head aside, and heav'd a sigh. Then on the spot again she fix'd her stedfast eye ; The cloud had sped away to distance far, In dark eclipse had set her influential star ! That moment round the hill a rustling breeze Swept, sighing o'er among the shrubs and trees; And sigh for sigh, with unison of soul. Now Mary's bosom heav'd without control ; And to the sighing winds she heav'd her sighs. While sparkling tears roll'd from her weeping eyes — For Mary wept — her beauteous star had gone, Her fav'rite star, and she was left alone, Companionless, amidst the gloom of night. Eclips'd, and snatch'd untimely from her sight. Fair Hesper vanish'd ! Like some magic spell. It flash'd to Mary's thoughts of boding ill ; But how, or where, or whence she could not telj. Then sighing as she went, she bid farewell To night, its stars, the hill, the mossy grot. And homeward tending gain'd her humble cot. Her soul seem'd sorrowful, her heart was sad. And yet she knew not why ; cheerful and glad 156 THE SHIPWRECK. She left her home, and joyful gaiii'd the hill. Serene her soul, while all around was still. Returning thence, she felt the sudden change, And marvell'd much, and thought it wond'rous strange. Weary with varied toil, she now retir'd to rest. And woo'd sweet balmy sleep to soothe her aching breast. While lock'd in sleep's embrace she smiling laid. The rising moonbeams through the trellis play'd. And quiver'd on the wall in rippling shade. She still slept on and smil'd ; the crimson blush Dwelt on her beauteous cheek : but listen — -hush — What sound was that, like some unearthly groan ? Hark — yet again ! — 'tis Mary's struggling moan ! See — see — how pale ! her blushes all are fled, A pale and deadly white is o'er her features spread ; A cold and clammy sweat is rising on her face ; Her throbbing pulse beats with unusual pace ; Her working muscles shake her trembling frame; On her pale cheek quick blushes went and came. She starts, she struggles : see — she rises — see — How wild she looks ! with what mysterious vacancy ! How eager, how intense, her sightless gaze Is fix'd upon the moonbeam's quiv'ring rays. That dart across the room beside her bed. She points her hand, she sighs, she nods her head. She moves her quivering lips, nor silence breaks ; Yet, hush — with fault'ring tongue she whispering- speaks ; THE SHIPWRECK. 157 And now familiar converse seems to hold With one invisible ; or, as if she told Her tale pathetic to the moonbeam's light, Then listen'd its reply ! A diamond bright Sparkled upon her hand ; she pointed there. And fix'd awhile her gaze upon the ruby fair; Then round the room her wild, unconscious eyes Follow'd her waving hand ; then, in surprise. She made a sudden pause, and fix'd her vacant look Upon the window, where the moonlight broke. Snatching her hand away as if afraid. And shrinking back, a struggling effort made; She gave a smother'd groan, her slumbers broke. And in amaze of wild alarm she woke I Her eyes, now kindled by sensation's fire^ Caught the last moonbeam ere it could expire, Cross'd by a passing cloud : a shuddering scream Burst from her quivering lips ; " ray dream, my dream Was true! there — there — I saw him disappear. Circled in robes of light 1" Excessive fear Stifled her breath, her hope, her courage fled — She sinks, she swoons, and lifeless on the bed She falls ; there deep entranc'd she lay. Till morning's sun awoke the smiling day. Her sire arose soon as the kindling light Had chas'd the darken'd shades of gloomy night; Expecting there to meet his Mary's smile, Sweet'ning the labours of her morning toil : Yet Mary came not : still he waited there. Anxious to see his darling child appear ; 158 THK SHIPWRECK. And yet no Mary came. Much wonder'd he — An early riser she was wont to be. And ere the sun could chase the gloom of night. She hail'd his first bright kindling beams of light. He call'd his Mary, yet no answer came; He list'ning stood, but yet he did not blame; Again he call'd, and all again was still : He could no more ; — " Perchance my child is ill," He cried, with trembling voice; "and here I stand. When she needs comfort from a parent's hand ; She wants my help, yet here I ling'ring wait — E'en now, perhaps, my aid may be too late !" Onward he hurried now, without delay. And sought the chamber where his Mary lay ; He ope'd the door, approach'd with cautious tread. Yet Mary stirr'd not — stretch'd upon the bed. All motionless and pale ! "And is she dead !" Exclaim'd the father, falling on his knees Beside her pallid form : " severe are thy decrees, O righteous heaven, yet thy will be done ; And is my Mary dead — for ever, ever gone .? Alas, alas — she is \" He spoke no more ; With trembling limbs he rose from off the floor. And bending o'er his Mary's lifeless form. He press'd her to his panting bosom warm. He wept not, sigh'd not, spoke not — grief intense Robb'd him of utterance, lock'd up each sense. And barr'd his flowing tears ; he stood aghast. And in his feeble arms embrac'd his Marv fast. THE SHIPWRECK. 159 Fix'd like a silent statue of despair. And motionless as she who claim'd his care. He bending o'er her stood ; his smother'd breath Broke not the silence — silence still as death, [tongue, " She lives ! she lives I" burst from his rapt'rous In ecstasies of jo\% as round her still he clung. And press'd her to his heart; and still more near He clasp'd his child, and cried, " 'Tis here, 'tis here, I feel it here — her beating pulse revives ! Quickens her throbbing heart — she lives, she lives ! Great God, I thank thee !" silence spoke the rest. While rolling tears his gratitude express'd. Now with a sigh his Mary's bosom heav'd. And kindling life through all her frame revived ; She ope'd her eyes, yet languid was her gaze ; Robb'd of their fire, no more their sparkling rays Flash'd bright with filial joy her sire to meet ; No more her dimpling smiles his smiles would greet; But looking round with timid glance she gaz'd ; Starting, bewilder'd, lost, she look'd amaz'd : Then whispering softly, trembling yet with fear, " He's gone — he's gone — and left his Mary here ! 'Twas there I saw him stand !" Then, starting with surprise. She paus'd, and wav'd her hand before her eyes. And look'd again : her father caught her view. Around his neck her arms she quickly threw, [still. And scream'd a scream of joy ; fast she embrac'd him " 0, save me father — save your child from ill !" 1j60 the shipwreck. She utter'd with a voice of wild alarm. And clasp'd him faster yet : " Fear, fear no harm. My child — cheer up — thy father's with thee here — But tell me, darling, why this needless fear ? This trembling:, starting, and that vacant stare ? Those wild expressions, that mysterious air ?" " O, 'twas a frightful dream— 1 cannot, dare not tell !" "A dream! cheer up, my love, and bid farewell To dreams — vain phantoms all ; arise, my fair. Come breathe with me the fragrant morning air." Assisted by her sire, she rose from bed. Then from his cot his child he gently led ; Supported on his arm, she feebly mov'd. Yet willing she obey'd the sire she lov'd. Around the breezy hill they took their way. Then sat and gaz'd upon the tranquil bay. Sleeping beneath the sun's resplendent ray. Mary, with wistful eyes, would often glance A soft enquiring look across the wide expanse, Then on her sire she gaz'd : his darling child He saw oppress'd with grief— he cheerful smil'd — He spoke kind words— to cheer her still he tried ; Yet as he smil'd and spoke, she shook her head and sigh'd. She gaz'd across the bay, yet answer'd naught; Fix'd were her eyes, her soul absorb'd in thought. The old man griev'd to see his child look pale, — He tried once more, and told a pleasing tale To cheer her soul, and her keen grief beguile — He smiling told, to make his Mary smile : THE SHIPWRECK. 16| Yet all in vain the efforts he could try, For as he sinil'd, she answer'd with a sigh. Now homeward with his Mary he return'd. And as he journey'd on he inly mourn'd : He gain'd his cot once more, he knelt to pray. And craved a blessing on the passing day ; Beside him Mary knelt — he bless'd her there. While silently she offer'd up her prayer. The old man then the frugal meal prepar'd. And heaven's kind bounty he with Mary shar'd ; But, sick at heart and faint, she tasted not — Grief was her food, her portion, and her lot! When ev'ning came, she ventur'd forth alone. And sought the pebbled beach j then made her moan To the calm waters rippling on the shore, In mimic music of the ocean's roar. Awhile she stood and gazed upon the sea. Then cast her eyes around the circling land ; Anon, they upward turn'd, and sought the sky. And now she look'd upon her pale white hand. A diamond sparkled there — a shudd'ring start [pale; She gave — first blush'd confus'd, and then turn'd She press'd it to her lips, she press'd it to her heart. Then to the waves told her pathetic tale. " This ring, it was this very ring. My Henry gave to me ; He bid me keep it for his sake. When he was far at sea. \Q2 THE SHIPWRECK. " But never more shall he return Across the stormy deep. For now he lies beneath the wave. And quiet is his sleep ! "A snow-white surge his winding-sheet, And a coral rock his bier; And clusters of pearls lie strewn at his feet. And treasures of wealth are there. " The gems of the mine lie sparkling around. Like stars of the firmament bright. As he lies in the ocean's deep profound. In the coral cavern of night ! " My Henry came to my bed by night. When the stars were shining clear; His form was lovely, fair, and bright As the moon-beam quiv'ring there : " He came, and smil'd a placid smile. And took me by the hand ; He gaz'd upon this ring the while, He by me there did stand. " He said he was a spirit now. He told me he was dead. And as he stood by my bedside, He ask'd if I would wed ; He said he'd come to claim my vow. And I must be his bride ! THE SHIPWRECK. 163 " He told me how his ship had struck. And by the rock went down ; And deep beneath the waves she sunk. And all on board were drown'd. " He struggled long amid the waves. And wrestled with the billow; But now he rests his weary head Soft on a sea -weed pillow ! " He told me how the sea-wolves grinn'd. As past his corpse they dart ; While the greedy sharks were thronging round, To feast upon his heart. " ' But hark ! (said he) the cock doth crow ; Farewell — I must away !' Yet ere he left me deep in woe. He thus to me did say : " ' Far down the deep my body lies. My spirit soars above; And thou must follow to the skies. My spouse, my Mary love !' "He ceased, yet beckon'd as he fled. And pointed to the sky : And must I sleep with Henry dead ? Yes, Mary, thou must die ! L 2 154 THE SHIPWRECK. " There is a still small voice within,- That speaks and tells me so ; Down the dark grave where Henry sleeps. His Mary soon must go. " This part of frail mortality Must be entorab'd in earth, And though we're parted here below. We still shall meet in death !" She ceas'd her melancholy strain. And sought her home once more; She slept — of Henry dream'd again. As she had dream'd before ! The morning came, again she rose. The old man sorely griev'd In secret, thus to see his child Of health and rest bereav'd : In secret oft to heaven he prayM ; Thus pray'd he day by day. And day by day, as time pass'd on. Stole Mary's bloom away ! Yet, when the summer's sun shone bright, 'Twas Mary's pleasure and delight. With feeble step and trembling pace. The landscape's varied scene to trace. THE SHIPWRECK. 165 And tread with joy each well known scene. Where she before so oft had been : And as she sat to rest beneath the oak. To catch the cooling breeze. Or wander'd silently beside the brook. Or gaz'd across the tranquil seas. With anxious and enquiring look. That spoke sweet sympathy; So beautifully fair, so sweet a glow Dwelt mantling on her cheek. Like a rose mirror'd on a lily's snow : It told of grief, and seem'd to speak More eloquently than the flow Of sweetest poesy ! That she must die, and that her heart must break. From her fair blooming cheek, the blushing rose Was rudely snatch'd By death's fell messenger ; with cruel blows. Insidious as he watch'd Her envied charms, he merciless o'erthrows. And plants the lily there ! Cold, pale, and colourless, a sickly hue. Death's charter'd livery. He o'er her lovely, placid features threw ; He sapp'd the springs of life. That day by day more faint and feeble grew; Yet, still she linger'd on. l3 156 THE SHIPWRECK. 'J'ioie, with its rapid and unwearied wing. Sped swiftly on its way. Yet no intelligence did its coming bring Of Henry or his crew. Which seem'd a strange and an unusual thing. Though weeks and months had gone. As some fair flower uprooted by the blast. Feels still the ruthless shock. Yet blossoms on awhile, though the fierce storm be past That razed it from the soil ; Then withers, fades, and droops, and dies at last, Robb'd of its vital food : So Mary linger'd on, though stricken at the heart. And sorely wounded there By grief's envenom'd, rankling dart, That drank her life's blood up. And made her sick'ning droop beneath the smart That prey'd upon her life ! And time sped onward as it sped before, And vague reports it brought. That Henry and his crew upon some barb'rous shore By tempests fierce were cast — There doom'd to toil as slaves, and never more Their homes would see again ! Yet Mary linger'd on, and wax'd more feeble still. Yet made she no complaint ; THE SHIPWRECK. 167 Her father sorely griev'd to see her look so ill. And breath'd his prayer to heaven ; Trusting in God, relying on his will, To give her health, or take her to himself! And time roU'd onward with unceasing speed. Yet nothing more was heard ; Report grew silent now — no more was said Of Henry's gallant ship ; All was forgotten as the silent dead. Yet Mary remember'd all ! And still she linger'd on, each day more feeble grew j She wander'd not abroad With melancholy step, as she was wont to do ; Confin'd to her sick bed. Never again each fav'rite scene to view. By Mary cherish'd dear. Calmly she lay, while resignation meek Dwelt in her spotless breast; And the sweet smile that rested on her cheek Told of her soul's bright hopes. That as her feeble frame still grew more weak, Brighter and brighter shone ! 'tr>' The good old man, her father, nightly there Watch'd anxious by her bed ; With sweet affection and paternal care. He watch'd his darling child : 168 THE SHIPWRECK, His hopes were chili'd not yet by dark despair. For still she on him smil'd. The night had pass'd away, the morning shone. Calm and serene she slept ; Watching her still the old man sat alone : Joy kindled in his heart. To mark her peaceful rest — he thought all danger gone. He blessed God, and wept ! She ope'd her eyes, beaming celestial peace. She smil'd a heavenly smile. As on her sire she gaz'd ; upon her beauteous face There came a blush so delicate ! While her fond father's arms with sweet embrace Encompass'd his dear child. One sweet, one tender, one last farewell kiss. She planted on his cheek ; Then breathed her soul to heaven ! Eternal bliss She gain'd, and left this world of woe ! Clasp'd in his arms she lay, nor did he miss The pearl that heaven had gain'd ! So softly, silently, her gentle spirit fled. So calmly she expir'd. He still embrac'd his child — he knew not she was dead. And joy danc'd in his heart ! From his fond arms she fell a corpse upon the bed. But O, so beautiful ! THE SHIPWRECK. 169 Upon her pale white cheek there dwelt a smile. As 'twere an angel's smile. Whose very loveliness might e'en beguile The cruelty of death, And warm his icy heart, and make him pause awhile. E'er he dared mar its form. And so it was^death beckon'd her away. So gently, so tenderly. That her fair form as placidly it lay, Seem'd conscious still of life ; Nor knew not yet from its frail tenement of clay. That her pure spirit far had fled away. To its eternal rest ! But O, to see the venerable father there. Froze stiff by chill despair ; To see him gaze upon her corpse so fair. Then wring his feeble hands. Then strike his hoary head, and tear his silver hair. Then swoon upon the floor ! To see him panting lie, and gasp for breath ; Struck with an agony of grief; His time-worn frame seem'd struggling now with death. While clinging still to life With feeble grasp, that bore him up beneath The burthen of his woes. ]70 THE SHIPWRECK, From that fierce shock, as from a dream, at length Trembling he slowly rose ; Robb'd of his last small particle of strength. He struggled to the bed. Where laid his treasur'd hopes in calm repose. That knew no waking hour. He stagger'd to his child, then clasp'd her to his breast. But met not her embrace ; Cold was the form he to his bosom press'd. Cold was her pale white face. Where death's eternal signet was impress'd. So delicately fair ! He clasp'd her still, and gazing on her face. Till his glaz'd orbs grew dark ; Life's feeble stream was ebbing out apace. His throbbing heart forgot to beat. His throbbing pulse stood still, his mortal race Was now for ever run ! O, 'twas a pitiful, heart rending sight. To see the aged, venerable sire. Clasp his dead child within his arms. And in an agony of grief expire ! Who could have look'd upon them lifeless there. So sweet, and calm, and placidly they slept. And not bid sorrow shed the trickling tdar— Who could have seen them there, and not have wept? THE SHIPWRECK. 1/1 O, 'twould have melted a hard heart of stone. To see them thus beside each other laid ; Lock'd in the stern embrace of cruel death, The aged father and the youthful maid ! She, the sweetest lily of the vale. Lifeless and cold, and as the lily pale. Thus stricken in her fairest, brightest bloom. Laid by her sire to join him in the tomb ! Remov'd from grief and pain. He, like a hoary pilgrim, weary, faint. His toils and troubles o'er, and each complaint. Slept sweetly beside the lovely flower. With ardent hopes and fears, yet feeble power. He strove to rear in vain ! And Mary died — died of a broken heart ; The old man sicken'd too, and died — His heart was broke : from her he could not part ; In the cold grave they laid them side by side. The child and father in the church-yard grave Together slept a wakeless, dreamless sleep ; The villagers in solemn silence buried them, And ev'ry heart was sad, and ev'ry eye did weep ! Six fair virgins, drest in purest white. Bore Mary slowly to the silent tomb ; Six hoary-headed men, in sable robes, Convey'd her sire to his dark, dreary home. 172 THE SHIPWRECK, And ev'ry eye did weep, and ev'ry heart was sad. For they were honour'd much, and much belov'd ; And this last tribute of respect they paid To them in death, whom they in life approv'd. Upon their grave they planted shrubs and flowers — Sweet scented flowers, and fragrant shrubs ; the rose They planted there, and the rosemary tree Around the grave its sickly fragrance throws. The weeping willow, too, they planted there; And through its foliage sigh'd the passing wind. In mournful music to the list'ning ear, While melancholy musings fill'd the mind. One little flower there sprung of heavenly blue. Upon that silent, solitary spot ; And ev'ry village child that floweret knew. And call'd it the sweet name, " Forget-me-not!" And the villagers say. From that time to this day, (Yet it is but a villager's story,) When the stars shine bright. At the dead of the night. And the moon sheds around her her glory : That their spirits appear On that day of the year. When the father and daughter were buried ! THE SHIPWRECK. 173 They have oft-times been seen Among the graves green, As o'er the church-yard together they hurried ! And on the green grave. Where the willow does wave. And the rose tree and rosemary blossom. Is the spot where they meet, Where each other they greet. And each other they press to their bosom : Then, parting awhile. On each other they smile. Then both pluck them a sprig of rosemary ; And over the grave The rosemary they wave ; Then one soars aloft while the other does tarry. As through the mid air. While the moonbeams shine fair. He hovers and waits, and beckons another ; Then the daughter and sire A moment retire. And watch in the shade the approach of the other. From across the calm sea Its path seems to be. But so rapid and fleet is its motion. It could never be known From whence it had flown. Yet it comes like a spirit of ocean. 174 THE SHIPWRECK. It ekiras o'er the tide. To converse with its bride — For the villagers say 'tis the lover : The sire then stands. And takes both their hands. And suddenly joins them together. With the evergreen twig Of the rosemary sprig, H^ binds them that they may not sever; Then, clasp'd in his arms. As if by these charms. He thought he had bound them for ever ! They all seem to rejoice. Yet utter no voice ; But should through the sky A dark cloud chance to fly. And the moon is eclips'd of her glory ; Then amid the dusk night. They vanish in flight ; So the villagers say. When you travel that way, — Yet it is but a villager's story. MARY'S BIRTH-DAY. Far to the inclement regions of the north. The warring storms have fled; and chilling Winter on his icy car with whirlwind speed Careers around the Pole ; and scatters in His rapid flight his rattling hail, and strews His drifting snows deep o'er his wide domain. While smiling Spring, with timid grace, comes softly. Sweetly on, breathing perfume around ; Waving her magic wand, she comes o'er forest. Hill, and dale. Around the naked world she throws Th' enamell'd robe of twice ten thousand dies : Beneath her footsteps spring luxuriant Verdure deck'd in emerald green ; where'er she cornea Creation smiles anew, and earth is made A paradise of flowers. Above, beneath. And all around, sweet melody resounds. That wins the soul to ectasies of joy. In this sweet season of perfumes and flowers. Another flow'ret sprung, more sweet, and far More dear than all the rest that garland the 176 MARY'S BIRTH-DAY. Glad earth. It was a flow'rct tender, delicate; Belov'd and cherisli'd by a parent's kindest Care, and shelter'd from the pinching blasts. That, like a mildew, drink the springs of life. And kill the op'ning bud ; — it grew more sweet. More lovely still, beneath the sunshine of A parent's smile j and still it grows, when other Flowers have bloom'd and pass'd away. Full twice seven years have roU'd away, since First this precious flower sprung into life. Pure and unsullied as the infant snow-drop Rising from its tomb, and 'mid the hoar frost Peeping sweetly, timidly abroad. Yes — twice seven times the seasons round haveroll'd. Since Mary ope'd her infant eyes, to gaze Upon this world ; — since first her little bark Was launch'd, amid the whirlpool vortex Of life's troubled stream, that hurries onward With impetuous force, the struggling Millions on its eddying surface borne. Full twice seven years on this auspicious day, The tender flower has bloom'd, unconscious Of a storm ; and still, unfolding leaf by leaf. Its op'ning charms more sweet, more lovely grow : Which bids imagination fly with gladsome wings, F'ar swifter than the tardy race of time. Till the enraptur'd fancy hovers o'er The hallow'd spot, far distant yet, where Full maturity in bright perfection shines; MARY'S BIRTH-DAV. 177 Nurtur'd and foster'd by a parent's hand. That train'd it on to grow, and woo'd its blossoms forth. Full twice seven yeai's upon this hallow'd morn. Her fragile bark has smoothly voyag'd down The varied stream of life ; while smiling hope Sits pilot at the helm, for ever steering Onward through a paradise of sweets, where Gilded landscapes shine all pure and bright, and Boundless prospects rise to feast th' enchanted view ! And still, through regions of eternal spring, Hope onward steers, where all is pleasure. Harmony, and joy. But happiness like this. Like the erratic star-beams when the sun Is down, are far too fleeting to endure. The enchantment soon must break, when all youth's Visionary dreams of joy will have an end : — And hope, perchance, must change its smiles for tears ! When stern reality, with all its train of ills. Comes darkly o'er the path of life, and measures out The mingled cup of evil and of good. Yet, O kind Providence, that rules o'er all. Avert that aught of ill e'er blot the Spotless purity of Mary's soul ; or, That temptation's fascinating smile e'er win Her on to woe. Shield her from ev'ry grief. From ev'ry pain, that wounds the bleeding heart. Or wrings the tender soul. The boon is great To grant, and more than mortal ought to ask. Or frail mortality may claim. Yet, bless her, Heaven ; and grant that she may live to the M J'tg THE DESCENT OF JUPITER. Last verge of life by Thee ordain'd, in Happiness and peace 5 and hail with joyous smile On each returning year this hallow'd day; And in the sweet serenity of calm content. Bless from her inmost soul the happy hour That brought her into life— the source of all her joys. March 17, 1829. THE DESCENT OF JUPITER. First Jupiter, the sovereign of the world. Moved onward with his banners all unfurl'd, Curtain'd in clouds, whose awful wreaths descend In dark festoons of phantom drapery, that bend Before him and beneath, and round about him swell; He rides supreme, himself invisible. Terrific and sublime his lightnings flash. And pealing thunders rolling onward crash. Heaven's whole artillery bursts from the sky. And all earth's echoes answering reply : From rock to rock, the deep vibrations sound ; From cave to cave, and shake the solid ground. The living lightnings shoot their fiery glare In quiv'ring flashes through the gloomy air — One moment kindling fierce, the next expires ; Open and shut, and dart their subtle fires From the dense cloud-ribb'd caverns of the sky. Sweeping eccentric zigzags as they fly. With awful glare, ten thousand different ways. That fill the sky with one tremendous blaze ! THE SNOW STORM. 1. The clouds through the sky are wildly careering-. Southward, southward, swift they are steering. Darker and drearier the aspect is wearing. Gloomy and gloomier still. Fitful the wind-gusts are hollowly howling. Behind the dusk cloud-packs the pale moon is scowling. While onward the tempest is rapidly rolling Across the dark forest and hill. 2. From the cold freezy north, icy banners unfurling, Steni Winter with fury his vengeance is hurling. While above, and below, and around he is whirling A torrent of tempest-strown snows. Thicker and thicker the dense clouds are lowering. Faster and faster the snow-storm is pouring. Louder and louder the wild wind is roaring. Darker and darker it grows. u 2 180 THE SNOW STORM. 3. From the bleak mountains the tempest is rifting. Hoarse through the defiles the snow-flakes uplifting, AVhile down in the valley below it is drifting. And chokes up each crevice and dell. Aloft in the air the fierce wind-gusts are racing, Thesnow-driftslike night-sprites eachother are chasing; Envelop'd in shrouds, the storm-demon is piercing The night with his horrible yell ! Keener and keener the frost-winds are biting ; Fiercer and fiercer the snow-drifts are fighting ; Harder and harder the forest-trees smiting Their shatter'd limbs barren and bare. Howling, and roaring, and crashing, and raging; The storm-wind and snow-storm wild warfare are waging ; Together combating, together engaging, 'Mid the darkness dismal and drear. 5. Swifter and swifter the tempest is urging. And driving the snow-drifts, and lashing, and scourging. And tossing and whirling like ocean-waves surging. Their mountain-crests cover'd with foam ! Woe, woe to the traveller, benighted and wandering. Amid the deep snow-drifts plunging and floundering; Far, far from the pathway widely meandering; On such a nic:ht whv did he roatn ? THE SNOW STORM. 181 6. Homeward he's struggling-, and homeward repairing; Bewiider'd and lost in his lonely wayfaring; Batter'd and bruis'd, and faint-hearted despairing ; So boist'rous and rough is the blast. He staggers and stumbles — fast, fast it is snowing: — His limbs are froze stiff' — still the hurricane's blowing: While deeper the furrows the storm-wind is ploughing. And the white surges over him passM ! 7. His wife and his children flock'd round him at parting ; To his bosom he press'd them, and bless'd them; while smarting, [starting. The tears from his eyes burst — he told them when He soon would be with them again. The storm roars aloud ; while glowing and burning. The bright cottage fire awaits his returning ; While hoping, and fearing, and doubting, and mourning. They look for his coming in vain. 8. Now anxiously waiting, they long for the meeting; His promise remember'd — his farewell repeating : But never, oh ! never, shall they welcome his greeting ; Deep, deep in a snow-drift he lies ! Fainting, and feeble, and frozen, and perishing; Far from his cottage home comforts so cherishing: Far from his hearth with its fireside nourishing; Wrapt in a snow-shroud he dies ! M 3 182 THE SNOW STORM. 9. When the sands in thedesertthewhirlwinds are driving. In vain is all struggling, in vain is all striving; The hot deluge o'erwhelms them, not one left surviving. The wild Arabs are stnother'd to death. So the cattle for shelter together are serrying. Snug in the hedge-rows ; while over them hurrying, The tempest- waves roll, with its mountain-drifts burying Them deep in the snow-ridge beneath. 10. The ships on the ocean are beating and veering. And through the wild uproar are dubiously steering ; While toss'd on the surges they're lab'ring and bearing; Dash'd upward, then plung'd down below. The ocean absorbs the white deluge descending; The hurricane-blast with the waters contending ; The surf of the sea with the stormy-gusts blending; And the waves roll like billows of snow. 11. On the hills it is pil'd, in the valleys embedding. And wide o'er the plains it is rolling and spreading; The roads all obstructing, the rivers blockading; And fierce it besieges the land. Thro' all states, and degrees?, and conditions pervading. Its influence is felt, while each province invading. Of farming, and shipping, and trav'ling, and trading : The nation is put to a stand ! THE SNOW STORM. 183 12. Its rage all exhausted, begins its relenting; The wind ceases blowing; the snow seems repenting; The fierce storm is curbing its pitiless pelting ; And calmer and calmer it grows. The gloom rolls away as the day is advancing ; The sun as he rises obliquely is glancing; And bright on the snow-wreaths his image is dancing ; And all things are hush'd to repose. 13. Fring'd with frost-work and icicles beaming and bristling, [crystalling; Old winter comes crown'd ; — streams and rivers are And hedges and bushes with diamonds are glist'ning; The trees are embroider'd with pearls, [yielding. Kings, princes, and heroes, to death's stroke when Their dead corse is pall'd in gay trappings and gilding ; Encoffin'd in grandeur, rich velvets enfolding. In crimson wreaths over them curls. 14. Then solemn and slow the state carriage is rolling; And the muffled bell deeply at intervals toiling ; [ing : And sable plumes nodding, friends weeping and howl- Yet, what is the pomp of the great. To the splendid display that daylight's unfolding ? Last night was the burial dirge — now we're beholding The spotless white shroud that the world is enfolding. While Nature is lying in state! THE DISAPPOINTMENT. With melancholy musings now my once glad Soul is tuned : then let me strike the thrilling- Strings that bid these mournful breathings flow. Deep, loud, and clear, be the soul-stirring touch ; While heart and mind participate each strain^ And ev'ry feeling echoes back the sound. Stern Disappointment ! thou shalt be my theme. Once in a mood of mirth, when my young heart W^as gay, 1 call'd thee forth in frolic sport, And bade thee then appear. With childish, wayward Incantations, like some spirit grim or Goblin dire, I hail'd thee to arise : thou Cam'st not at my bidding then, nor listen'd To my charms : thy name I oft had heard. But yet I knew thee not. Since then the times Have changed, and with the changing time Myself am changed, and all my prospects too. Like the gay lark, I once rejoic'd in freedom, Unrestrain'd j — like the wild flock upon The mountain's brow, in the sweet luxury of Liberty I ranged — in freedom's full THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 185 Assurance reposed, and never dreamt of thrall : Yet all the gilded prospects that around Me shone so bright, and dazzled iny young eye. And fill'd my wild romantic soul with thrilling Joy, are clouded now, and wrapt in cheerless gloom^ While Disappointment darkens all the scene. So sighing, oft would Alfred make his plaint. When lone he wander'd 'mid the shades of night. And held commune with his own secret thoughts, Where none intruding broke the silence there. Yet to his friend with openness of heart. And full reposing confidence, he told The burthen of his grief, and to his kind And sympathizing soul unbosom'd all His woes — his woes, his griefs they were, and his Alone. The cold dull apathy of men — Of worldly men — could grant no sympathy For what they never knew, what never felt: To those he told it not, nor could he tell — He was too sensitive for the rough usage Of th' unfeeling world — he shrunk with Agony, like the poor tortur'd worm, from The rank venom of the taunt, the jeer, the Laugh of scorn, the stinging, keen rebuke, that. Like a poison'd barb, would deeper pierce the wound. Alfred was young, and unacquainted with The world; he thought it was all sunshine and Delight, for he had never felt its storms. His heart was tender, and his disposition Tractable and mild ; yet such a timid ]86 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. Diffidence was woven in his soul, and Sway'd his motives and his actions so, that He dared never look presumptive boldness In the face, nor meet the eye of pride ; But bow'd his head to blush for those, who Blush'd not for themselves. His was no vulgar Mind, with low-bred rudeness fraught, tho' some might Deem it so who knew it not, nor e'er could Know the secrets of his soul. Yet 'twas not Strength of intellect, nor depth of thought — it Was not brilliancy of wit, nor the Bright fire of genius bursting forth, that rais'd His mind above the common standard of The world — 'twas not like the full blooming: of The summer rose, brilliant in colour, Fragrant in sraell. attracting ev'ry eye To gaze and to admire j yet hiding with A guile-like secresy, beneath its silken Leaves, the stinging thorn, to pierce the hand that Plucks it from its stem. Oh, no — it was not Like the gay and flaunting rose. His heart, his Mind, were like the tender plant call'd Sensitive ; retiring from the touch with Timid modesty, as if 'twere conscious Of its own unworthiness — for no fair Flowers adorn its stem, no perfume sheds it forth. His heart, his mind, were moulded in a form So delicate — endow'd with such a Touchous, sensitive intensity of Soul, that ev'ry unkind word, and ev'ry THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 18/ Angry look left its impression there ! His heart, his mind, with gentle feelings tuned. Responded to the touch of ev'ry ruthless hand; Yet non-resistance taught him to submit. And placid patience bade him bear it all. What though an envious and malignant Dart might wound his feeling soul, and pierce him To the quick, yet placid meekness taught him Passively to bleed, nor to retalliate. Or strive to wound in turn. Too well he knew. For he had felt the pangs that slander, malice. Angry retorts could give. He thought that other Minds more hard and more obdurate than his. Must feel as keenly as his own ; nor would He throw the barb that first had wounded him. And sorely too, though provocation stood With brazen front to dare th' expected blow ! Such Alfred was in temperment and mind ; For ever fearful to offend, or wound A feeling heart, yet tremblingly alive To all the pangs of a too tender soul. He shrunk abash'd at the dark shadow of A coming ill, and bow'd beneath its frown ! But what of Alfred and his cutting griefs ? What of his sorrows and his heartfelt woes? Such were his griefs, his sorrows such, that half Th' unconscious world would never feel. Would never know, had they as Alfred been — So dead their souls to intellectual things ; 188 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. And half the world, the censuring;, scoffing world. Would laugh at when they knew, and disbelieve. Young Alfred, timid, bashful, sensitive, Seem'd as not made for the dull routine of The plodding world ; and yet amid the world, — The busy, noisy, bustling world, the sordid And cold-hearted world, — his varied lot was cast. To bustle on amid the mingling crowd. Confined to a dull monotony of life, His pining soul oft long'd for liberty, And panted to be free, to rove as once It roved, where wayward fancy will'd. Yet ever and anon, for one short hour, 'Twas granted him to flee his prison walls. Like some glad schoolboy when his task is done ; To tread the flow'ry fields, to breathe the Balmy breeze, refreshing, pure, untainted By the noisome vapours from the smoky town ; To catch a glimpse of what his soul admired — The wide-spread earth in all her beauties drest. The glorious sun, the vast sublime of sky ; Then hurry back and be enthrall'd once more- — Turn wordling like the rest, and barter all for gain ! 'Twas like the soaring eagle bound in fetters Strong, then left alone to fly, with all the Clanking shackles dragging at his Jieels : However strong his pinions cleave the skj^, ^Tis sure to bring him low, and pin him to the ground. His ardent soul disdain'd the trammels of the world. Yet stern necessity compell'd him to submit : THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 189 He felt it was a galling, irksome thing. For freeborn souls to be dependent on Another's will, another's whim, another's Proud caprice; yet this he bore with patience. And complied with every varying rule ; Though oft his soul was wounded sore, and oft His mind was griev'd, yet made he no complaint. Much had young Alfred read of foreign lands. Of distant climes, of places far remote ; Much had he read of wild, romantic scenes. Of lovely regions beautiful as thought; Of his own country, too, much had he read. Much had he heard, yet never seen, though long'd He much to see — of hills and dales, and bleak And barren rocks — of valleys fair — of princely Halls and palaces, embosom'd in the woods — Of ancient castles perch'd amid the cliffs. The giant relics of a barb'rous age. And tottering with the palsy of decay ; Yet sternly frowning o'er the streams beneath, That headlong dashed amidst their fragment walls. Of these he oft had heard, admiring, wondering heard. Yet never seen ; and oft he wish'd that. Like some fairy fleet, upon a golden cloud. When summer's sunset blazon'd all the skv. He to those regions of romance could sail. There to luxuriate, and feast his raptur'd Soul 'mid Nature's richest charms, and ran^e Through all her scenes with freedom uncontroU'd. 190 'i"HE DISAPPOINTMENT. The vagrant wish was vain — vain as the wayward Fancy could conceive, and fragile as a Fairy's dream ; yet still his young imagination Loved to picture forth such gorgeous scenes, And dwell enraptured 'raid the paradise he'd made ! His calmer, truer, intellectual wish — His longing, heartfelt, heart- approving wish — Was for some fair occasion to behold Such scenes as these. He long'd to leave the Bickering world for one short while, to dwell With Nature, where she reigns sublime ; to climb And gambol round her mountain throne ; to be Her playmate and her lover too ! to gaze Upon her ever varied charms, where bright Creative beauty smiles in boundless liuxury, 'mid ev'ry op'ning scene — unravelling To the ravish'd eye the rich display, the Boundless and exhaustless store, of congregated Beauty, strewn in grand confusion round : Yet all arranged in regular array. That captivates the gazing, wond'ring sense, And fills the soul with transports of delight ! He long'd to climb the highest peak of hill;?. To tread above the clouds, and see his giant Shadow walk upon the storm ; while far Above him shone the glorious sun. And far below the raging tempest roll'd ! These were the hopes, the wishes these, of Alfred, When his young ardent fancy stray'd away From the dull world and all its drudgery ; THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 191 These the bright pictures that were vision'd forth. To feast his craving soul, while his quick rolling eye With sparkling ardour gazed, yet gazed in vain. For the reality of those ideal scenes ; And long'd to range far as the vision'd organ Could extend — o'er hills, and dales, and woods, and Valleys fair, and tumbling waterfalls, and Climbing rocks that battled with the clouds, [to see; And seeni'd to prop the sky ! These, these he long'd Yet still he walk'd his little hour at noon, Trod the same path he oft had trod before. Saw the same scenes that he had ever seen. Dreamt of some fairy land all brigl^t and fair. Yet drudg'd amid the world and plodded on ! Some things fall out of which we do not dream ; And through the endless chain of causes, whose Intricate movements guide and govern all; Some close-connecting link, some secret spring. Oft overlook'd by man, not seen nor understood ; By imperceptible, unerring steps. Unfolds, developes, and produces to our Sceptic sense and wondering view, the wish'd for. Hoped for, long expected, yet despair'd effects. Hid deep within futurity's dark womb ! And so it was with Alfred : Alfred had A friend — few friends had he, yet fewer Enemies than friends ; — a friend he seem'd to be. But friendship in a world like this is little Better than a name. A friend he had, with Whom he oft convers'd, and to whose sacred |C)2 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. Keeping he would oft unlock the treasures Of his soul ; and oft, with animated glee. To him he'd tell his tales of wild romance- Then breath'd an ardent wish that he could dwell Amid the scenes his fancy conjur'd up ! His friend, observing thus his wayward bent. Thought how he best might gratify his wish. And treat the young enthusiast with a feast, To fire his heart, and charm his utmost soul ! Some relatives had Alfred's friend, who dwelt 'Mid the wild scenery of peak-crested hills. Where frolic Nature in her gaysome moods Play'd truant with herself, and toss'd the Pond'rous rocks about, and piled their giant forms On one another's heads, to make herself A stepping-stone into the clouds, where she Might sit pavilion'd with the sun, and Paint their rainbow hues, sprinkle them o'er with Pearls, and edge them round with fringe of golden fire ; Then with the flaming drapery clothe her awful Brow, while through their floating, gorgeous folds. With splendid majesty she look'd upon Her own fair world, far, far below, in Emerald verdure deck'd, reposing in her smiles ! These relatives, these friends, who lived 'mid scenes So wild, so beautiful, he oft proposed To visit when summer came, and summer Days were long. And now 'twas summer, when the Teeming earth, like some young, blooming bride, Deck'd in her nuptial vest, display'd her ev'ry charm ; THE DISAPPOINTMENT. J 93 Wliile all her symmetry of form, stamp'd in Perfection's mould, stood forth confess'd to the Admiring eye of her adoring- and ador'd Belov'dj while ev'ry feature lighted up with smiles, Beam'd redolent of love, and sweet enchanting joy. His purposed visit he to Alfred told. Then bade him a farewell till they should meet Again; yet this was done with friendly Pleasantry, to touch his tender heart, and Make him feel the stern reality that. Spite of all his longings and his golden Dreams, he still was moping, plodding on, in The same beaten track that he had ever been : Yet, loth to keep him on the rack too long. He broke the shackle that oppress'd his soul, By asking his young friend if he would be His partner to the land of hills — be his Companion to those valleys fair, which For so many years, so many tardy. Lingering years, he'd sigh'd to see in vain. To mark how Alfred's downcast eyes now brighten'rf Up with smiles, when those sweet words spoke music To his ears; 'twas as the morning sun when Breaking through the mists that veil his glorious orb. Those smiles illumed his countenance with joy. As the bright sun illumes and gilds the world. But then th' electric shock that glanc'd within His heart, and fired his burning soul with Its ethereal flash ! To know, to faintly. Feebly know, te feebly feel, the sudden ] 94 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. Transport that his soul enjoy'd, when such a Glorious prospect open'd on his view : It would have been enough to make the maudlin World go frantic with unruly joy ; but Their cold hearts, benumb'd and dead, could never Feel like his — theirs was a dull and stupid Apathy, a leaden loadstone at the Frigid zone, froze fast and motionless ^Mid blocks of ice and chilling snows, while the True magnet of his soul, upon its needle Pivot, balanc'd by unerring skill. Would thrill and tremble to the nicest touch, "Vibrate through all its frame, yet ever pointing true. Yes, Alfred heard his friend invite him to Such scenes as he had never view'd ; he heard Him ask if he would wish to go ; he heard, But answer'd not. So unexpected was the Question put, and such a sudden burst Of splendour broke upon his view, that all His energies of mind for one short while Were lost: his soul seem'd fled already on Its wings of thought, to view the lovely scene. And thus anticipate the body in its Feast of joy. If such would kuow what Alfred Made reply— if such would know that Alfred Gave consent — go ask the prisoner in his Dungeon-keep, if from his shackled limbs The fetters were unlock'd, the doors wide open Thrown, and liberty proclaim'd, he still would. Linger in the noisome cell, still feel the THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 195 Irons dragging at his heels, his coarse and Scanty morsel famishing devour. And rest content to be a prisoner still ? Go ask the beggar shivering at the door. If he could be a king, and reign in Pomp and splendour, luxury and power. Commanding then where now he craves in vain. He still would creep from door to door, and cringe And supplicate for the poor pittance that He now receives, with half denial given ? Go ask the slave, who feels the whip, the scourge. And all the insults that his tyrant gives. With proud disdain, and lofty untamed soul; If he could now be free from his degrading thrall. And be transported to his native shores. To rove through forests of primeval growth. To climb with firm-braced nerves the tow'rins: hills. To wander o'er the desert parch'd and bare. To chase the ostrich 'mid the burning sands. To catch the antelope upon the rocks. And battle with the tiger fell, amid The forest's gloom, as once he battled. Chased, and climbed, and roved, when he was free. And Liberty was playmate by his sidej — Go ask him, then, with all these scenes in view. If still he'd be a slave, and bow to tyrant man ? Conceive the prisoner's wish, the beggar's answer. And the slave's reply. Then wonder not if Alfred's heart responded to the sound N 2 196 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. So welcome to his ears^ while his glad tongue In simple strains its grateful tribute paid. Yet leave was wanted ere he could depart. 'Twas ask'd, and granted with due etiquette : But it had cost him many a struggle. Many a heartfelt pang, ere he could Muster up sufficient nerve to force his Much reluctant tongue to ask the wish'd for boon j So timid was his mind that fear'd to be denied. But when 'twas ask'd, and when 'twas granted too. His joy seem'd more than full. His anxious Expectations now were all alert, and Every faculty with enterprises fiU'd, Awoke through all his soul bright animation's Sweet enchanting fire, that kindled new delights He'd never felt before ; while busy fancy Wove a garland fair to crown his smiling hopes. Already in his mind he trod the scenes sublime. And like some young and frisky kid, he thought He felt himself upon the breezy hills. Climbing and tugging np their sloping sides. And skipping with delight from rock to rock. In eager haste, to reach the fleecy clouds: There perch'd aloft on some tall pinnacle, A little speck amid the dark blue sky. Then from the dizzy height, look down upon The world below, to catch an eagle glance Of all the landscape fair — rocks, woods, and vales. Cots, palaces, and towers, bright crystal streams. And bubbling, sparkling, brooks; towns, villages, THE DISAPPOINTMENT. ]97 And castles gray, strewn far and wide, and speckling The green earth, like scatter'd snow-flakes on an Emerald shield, and vandyked round with Liquid silvery rills — a panorama grand. By nature's pencil drawn, by sunbeams shaded true. To see the dashing waterfall, like some Wild maniac leaping down the cliffs, Into the gulph profound — broke, dash'd, and Ground to shivers as it falls, 'tis all transformed To foam, and frothing bubbles dancing in The sun ; by countless millions glittering They shine, bright globulets of air, like Wreaths of drifted snow when avalanches fall ! He saw, he thought he saw, this soul-enchanting Scene ; he thought he heard the hoarse and mellow'd Roar of the wild waterfall, and the sweet Music of a hundred rills — nature's unceasing Concert round her lofty throne, fix'd on Th' eternal hills pavilion'd in the clouds ! In the bright sunshine of this pleasing dream Was Alfred kept entranced, while all his soul Was joy ; a joy was his that did not spend Its essence in unseemly mirth or wild Extravagance, where folly reason rules — It was the joy of satisfaction thrilling In his soul, and smiling from his eyes. Like the bright sunshine on a bed of flowers ! Alfred had been so long confined and kept Within his narrow prison-house, that much It puzzled him to know what he should do ; n3 198 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. And how best use the time, when set at Liberty, and turn'd adrift, as 'twere, j Like some wild colt upon a common wild ! A tame and timid bird he seem'd, that iiad Been taken from its native woods unfledg'd. And kept within a cage for years ; then all At once let loose, and suffer'd to escape j It hops around its wiry prison-house. And picks, and hops again ; then shakes its Little wings, and wonders where it is. The Little timid fool, so long in bondage kept. Tastes liberty, yef knows not what it means ; It feels itself free from its wiry thrall. Sees the wide world around, yet hardly deems it-real ! And so it was with Alfred. When consent Was given, and every prospect promised fair. And joy danced in his soul ; yet still, he dared Not think it real. It seem'd some bright illusion. Dazzling all his sense — it seem'd too great to Be possess'd. He could not rest with full. Reposing confidence, upon this brilliant Hope, upon this prospect fair : a silent. Secret misgiving, like a mask'd murderer. Would steal darkly o'er his soul, and rob him Of his joy; while with an ominous, forewarning Voice, 'twould mutter to his startled ear, that He should never see in bright reality Those lovely and romantic scenes, so Vividly enamell'd on Lis soul, in Transient splendour, like the rainbow hues ! THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 199 Such scenes lived only in th' enthusiast's brain — Scenes to be dream'd ofj not to be possess'd. The omen voice spoke true. The secret warnings Did not warn in vain. When expectation, On its tiptoe pois'd, stood pluming up its Ready, outstretch'd wings, and waited but the Signal word to soar — then the Denial came. With frivolous excuse, and dipt its pinions. Quivering to the breeze ! There was no cause assign'd For the unseemly act : perchance 'twas Fanciful caprice : yet if it were, 'tis past : Then let it be forgot as if it ne'er had been. The cause no matter what, or howsoever small j The effect produced, the impression made. Will stand indelible till life endures. Ere failing memory erase the die i They little thought, who struck the unkind blow; They little knew what pangs they gave The timid heart with tender feelings tuned; [hearts They could not guess, they could not know, whose Were moulded in another form, tuned by another key: Or if they did, what reck'd they of the stroke ? They felt it not — felt not the wound they gave : Like some hard rock that splits the sea-tost bark. When tempest-waves rush in with lashing fury. To devour the helpless, hapless crew, and gulp Them struggling down, 'mid groans, and cries, and prayers ; It stands unmoved 'mid the heart-rending scene. And still a hard, unconscious rock remains ! 200 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. When the denial came, which came obliquely, Drest in deep disguise, as if ashamed Of its own intent, 'twas as the lightning's Glance that strikes the giant oak, lord of The forest proud : splinter'd and scath'd it stands. And in the full clothed majesty of its Rich foliage dies ; yet falls not prone, but stands A noble wreck among its fellow trees. All stopp'd the springs of life by the electric shock ! And so was Alfred struck by Disappointment's Keen, ungeaerous stroke ; and the huge fabric Of his lofty hopes, whose top was hid in clouds. Came tumbling down, and all in ruins lay ! Keen was the stroke, and deep it pierced his soul ; Stern Disappointment, with its stinging barb. Deep rankled in his heart, and rack'd his feeling Mind. And Alfred wept — he blush'd to own it. Yet he wept — in secret wept, when none were Near to scoff or taunt him for his girlish tears. He brooded o'er the sorrows of his soul. Yet made he no complaints, but bore it all. His was not like that transient burst Of feeling that expends itself in noisy. Bickering words, like some small bubbling. Brawling rill, foaming and fretting o'er its Shallow bed, and battling with the pebbles That oppose its course : yet soon its fountain Dries, and then 'tis heard no more. The grief that Fill'd his soul and overflow'd, was as some Mighty riyer, full and clear; whose hidden, THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 201 Viewless depths no one can giiess, yet ever Flowing on through vast alluvial plains. In tranquil majesty and unopposed control. His joys, his pleasures gone, and all his hopes Destroyed, Alfred was left alone to nurse His bitter griefs. His friend departed to The land of hills, while he remain'd behind. With longing, lingering wish to go, yet Kept a prisoner, chain'd and fetter'd down. His grief was now at full, as erst his joy Had been: keen grief and smiling joy by turns Possess'd his soul — a soul attuned to feel The full perfection of enjoyments sweet. The bitter pangs of Disappointment keen ; And higher as he soar'd 'mid regions Of delight, 'twas but to fall the deeper In despair, and plunge from joy to woe! Some hearts there are against whose callous folds The stings of Disappointment never can Prevail, and through whose flinty husk its keenest Darts can never pierce. On these it strikes Like a barb'd arrow shot against a rock, that Back rebounds with splinter'd point, and adverse Shivering flies, yet ne'er inflicts a wound. But wounds there are that will not, cannot heal — A wounded spirit and a broken heart: A wounded soul was his by Disappointment pierced. While deep corroding grief upon his vitals prey'd 1 His frjend had gone, and he was left behind : yet still his fancy would not be enslaved j 202 THE DISAPPOINTMENT, It follow'd on the wing, and kept him Company as still he journey'd on ; Though oft impatient at his tardy speed. It overleap'd the bounds of time and space. And rush'd amid the scenes of wild romance. To revel in the sunshine of delights. While bright imagination play'd the Pantomime in every lovely show; till Disappointment like a demon came upon A thunder-cloud, and darken'd all the scene. His friend away, and Alfred left alone. Like some devoted lamb he seem'd, close Folded in its pen, while all the flock were Browsing on the hills, cropping the short sweet Grass all sprinkled o'er with dew, or playing Frolic gambols on the smooth green sward. While Liberty was umpire of their sports. The prisoner lamb might call and bleat in vain. When none were near to succour its distress ; No soothing answer to its loud complaints. Save that some vagrant echo floating from The hills (where Liberty gives charters Without bonds) might reach its far off fold, and Thus salute its list'ning ear, by answering Bleat for bleat, as 'twere in mockery of its woes. And thus it was with Alfred, when his friend Had gone. There came upon his ear, as 'twere By chance, yet all design'd by some who knew His Disappointment, not his grief, — the laugh. The biting jeer, th' unfeeling, cruel jest ; THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 203 With thoughtless exultation, thus they launch'd These arrows at his soul, as if delighting In th' ungenerous sport his Disappointment made. 'Twas hard, 'twas very hard to bear — it cut him To the heart, but yet he bore it all with Fortitude, and answer'd not again. Methinks 'twere well to be as one of those, With hard, unfeeling, cold, unconscious hearts ; They battle with the world the best, and make Their way where tender, timid hearts would fail. To be like one of those — turn sordid, selfish. Venture all for gain ; to feel no other Motive, know no other wish ; to speculate On riches unpossess'd ; to plod amid the world ; To crave and grasp at all within the reach ; To be like those who know not, cannot know. The anxious breathings of an ardent mind ; Like those whose little dwarf'd and shrivell'd souls Might all be kerneli'd in a hazel nut. Such as the wild wood squirrels crack and eat. And then at one another throw the shells for sport. Methinks 'twere good to stifle and destroy The tender feelings of a generous heart — Those thrilling touchous sentiments, that dwell In minds so delicately framed ; to smother And put out the vital fire that shines so Bright, that glows so warm within, — by cold, dull Apathy, by dead unconsciousness, by Harden'd and obdurate pride ; to steel the Soul against the venom'd stings that pierce the 204 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. Tender mind ; to steep the faculties of Sense and feeling in the lethean flood. And lock the beating heart within the triple Fold of avarice, pride, and gain, deep canker'd O'er with rust. Then welcome rebuffs and scoffs. Welcome the jeer, the laugh, the taunting sneer j And Disappointment welcome too, with all Its terrors and its frowns : — arm'd cap-a-pie In impudence and pride, and cased in triple Proof of arrogance and self, the harden'd heart. The unfeeling soul, the cold unconscious sense. Might then stand firm in their collected might. And laugh to scorn the bickerings of the world. But no, it cannot be : the hallow'd flame That glows with purest light will not be quench'd. Though deluges may pour; will not be drown'd, though Ocean floods roll o'er ; will not be chill'd or Froze, though Zambia's snows imbed it deep around; Will not be duU'd to an unfeeling clod. Amid the apathy of an unconscious world. Where'er the sting has pierced, the wound, the smart Js felt; where'er the blow is given, the Touchous heart will shrink, nor can the Pharmacy of man restore the wounded soul. Sometimes when ev'ning came would Alfred Stand, and catch the cooling breeze, and while its Sweet refreshing influence play'd around His brow, he'd gaze upon the fleecy clouds. Floating at random through the boundless skyj THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 205 He'd gaze upon them with an anxious look, And then he thought of Liberty, and sigh'd. O, Liberty ! how sweet art thou to those Escaped from thrall : but they who always Have been free, know not, nor wish to know what 'Tis to be confined. They cannot know, who Never felt restraint, the joys of I-iberty j They taste it with a dull, pall'd appetite. Like pamper'd dogs on dainty morsels fed. As children eat sweet-meats till they taste them sour. Then, loathing, toss the luscious thing away. Yet grudge to let their longing playmates bite, For fear that they should take loo large a piece : So those who have their full of Liberty, Expend it all, and squander it to naught. Often in useless, unproductive ways ; Yet should another, lacking such a boon. Beg for a trifle where 'tis thrown away. Then with a miser's niggardness they nothing Have to spare, they nothing can bestow ; For self, illiberal self, proud, peevish self. The great monopolizer of each good. Grasps greedily at all within its reach. And grudges one small trifle to its fellow-man. Who lacks and pines for that which they possess In rich profusion, yet have naught to spare. And Alfred waited long and anxiously His friend's return. At last he came, and With him brought a rich and an abundant Store of narrative, to entertain and feast 206 THE DISAPPOINTMENT, His hungering^ thirsting soul. He told him all He'd seen, and all he knew, to gratify His mind : yet at the end of each recital Of some lovely scene, some wild romantic Spot, some celebrated place, made sacred And renown'd in history's page, or luinin'd By the fame that bright departed genius Still around it sheds, through all the landscape wide. Like summer twilight at the Northern Pole ; He sigh'd, and cast his eyes upon the ground, While the bright tear-drops twinkling quiver'd there. His friend saw his distress, and then would pause To soothe his grief, and bid him cheerful be^ And listen to his tale; he listen'd on. Yet ever more he sigh'd. What though kind Sympathy might soothe his wounded soul. Yet all the pity that his friend could give. And the whole world to boot, that little pity Knows, could not restore or purchase back the Joys that Disappointment, like a robber Dark, had stole. What compensation could be Given for those once brilliant hopes, now Blasted all, which led him to anticipate. That soon himself would tread where Byron once Had trod ; range o'er the scenes where Byron oft Had ranged ; behold the landscapes fair that Byron oft beheld; traverse the woods, the Groves, that he had travers'd o'er ; walk round the Lake, and gaze on its smooth face, o'er which in White-sail'd skift'he oft had sportive skimm'd ; THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 207 Then midway in the pool, through fancy's telescope. To see him as he oft had done, leap headlong In the flood, while his two faithful dogs, of True Newfoundland breed, would pilot him Ashore, all drench'd and dripping wet to skin : To see the mansion where he once had lived. All ivy'd o'er with the dark evergreen. Fit place for genius of immortal fame. But then to see the narrow, darksome house. The last deep silent home, where Byron rests; To stand with awful reverence by the grave — The grave of him, whose mighty genius fiil'd The world with wonder and surprise ; to pause Beside the cold white marble sculptur'd there. And read his name, and read it yet again ; — Then gaze entranced upon the solemn scene. Till the wrapt fancy almost felt the glow Of inspiration rising from the tomb. And set his young and ardent soul on fire ! To stand beside the grave — the grave of Byron ; And there to contemplate his awful genius, With transcendent powers, wing its daring Flight far up the vast sublime, till lost Above the clouds, and hid from mortal view. Save by the flashes that he darted down. Like midnight lightning, on th' astonish'd world ! And as the midnight lightning's subtle fire. Burnt the ethereal essence of his soul ! 'Twas grand, 'twas awful, at a distance far Remote, to stand and contemplate the 208 THE DISAPPOINTMENr. Dazzling splendour that it shed around ! 'Twas beautiful to gaze upon, though we Might tremble as we gazed, and stand appali'd : But, O, 'twas awful, hurtful, terrible. If wrong conducted by attractive power. And was this Byron? he, whose name sounds round The world, whose fame will live long as the world Shall roll. Methinks the muse, transported at The sound of his enchanting name, stands Already unembodied by his tomb ; While her young pinions tremble with delight. And long, yet long in vain, to cleave the skies Like him, and follow fearlessly in his [alone. Bold flight, where none dared venture save himself But 'tis not given for the linnet with The lark to soar ; nor the tame dove to tower Amid the clouds, in fellowship with the Proud eagle in his might, that breasts the storm. And in its fuU-orb'd splendour gazes on the sun ! And it was Alfred's hope that he should stand By Byron's grave; but Disappointment, with Forbidding frowns, denied the wish'd for boon. And then his travell'd friend told Alfred of That far-famed mansion fair, that splendid Palace of the noble great, possess'd of which An eastern sultan might be proud, nor fear To be outrivall'd by surrounding kings. Yes, noble Chatsworth he told Alfred of. And all its beauties in detail related He to him, and all its rarities — a THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 209 Rich, inestimable store, more numerous Than the memory can keep, more than the muse Can tell ; unless the gazing eye had lent Its vision'd organ to review the scene. And painted their bright colours true to Nature's blooming tint upon the plastic brain : But ere that lovely picture could be drawn. Came Disappointment, with its pencil dark, And dash'd the canvas o'er with foul oblivion Blots, and nothing left of all the fairy sketch. But clouds of darkness 'mid the outlines dim. And then he told him of that ancient place. Whose hoary ruins look majestic as They stand, like groups of giants seated on A rock, and sternly frowning from beneath Their antique garb of netted ivy, knitting Through the walls with green unfading woof, the Ceaseless work of many centuries gone. 'Twas Haddon Castle that he told him of, A name belov'd by old romancers, where The legend tale would tell of stirring times. And glorious deeds by heroes wrought of yore j Where feudal princes reign'd in rival Splendour of the regal throne, dispensing Life or death to ail their vassal train. Where chivalry, in all its gorgeous pride. Would issue from the Castle's thronging halls, Bedizen'd in their glittering trappings bright. To seek the tented field, and win the envied 210 THE DISAPPOINTMENt'. Prize, bestow'd by beauty on her champion Bold. And then came tales of wars, of tumults. And of strife — fierce, bloody wars, and sieges Desperate ; when from its proud embattled towers. The stricken warriors were headlong hurl'd. And carnage red drank deep of purple gore. Till drunk and madden'd with the sanguine draught. Then desolation came, and ruin spread Her vampire wings o'er all the lovely scene : And 'mid the shock of dire conflicting times. This noble and commanding place was wreck'd. And left to silence and to solitude : Amid the gloomy woods a naked skeleton, A ruin vast, that darkly shadow'd forth Its splendour lost, its glory now no more. And Alfred listen'd with delight to this Descriptive and enchanting scene, and drank In the knowledge which it brought, with keen Avidity of soul; while his fix'd eyes AVith bright complacency seem'd gazing on The scene, so vividly emblazon'd on His mind. Like some poor self-deluded bird He seem'd, hung in the sunshine warm, and Peeping through her close-wired prison bars. She warbles forth her song; clear skies around Her smile, the woods and fields look gay, the Garden spreads its richest beauties forth. In blooming flowers and fragrant shrubs. Exhaling sweet perfumes. On ev'ry bush THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 211 And tree, some happy warbler sits, singing; The song that Liberty had taught, and pouring Out its soul of melody upon the breeze. Soaring in thought aloft amid the skies. Or chanting with its kindred in the woods ; The captive songster strikes her gladsome wings Against her prison cage ; the sweet, the fond Delusion breaks, and all her joys are o'er. He told him, too, of many wond'rous things That he had seen, and met with by the way : Of huge and climbing hills, that lifted their Proud heads into the clouds, and crown'd themselves With rainbow haios from each passing shower, Whilezigzag lightnings wreathed their brows with fire. Of lovely scenes, and wild romantic views. The Dale of Dove, and Monsel's pict'resque dale, That might with Tempe's classic vale unrivall'd Vie, — where lavish Nature all her art has tried To form a picture in perfection's mould. Of caverns dark, and deep subterr'nean Outlets to the lower world, where curious things Are seen, and things more wonderful are told. The cavern of the Peak, a grotto vast. Magnificent, sublime — a mighty bubble. By an earthquake blown from Nature's crucible. When smelting metals, liquified to glass By fierce, volcanic heat, while raging whirlwinds Blew the smouldering fires: upheaved, with all its Fabric huge, it stood, with dome of triple rock. o 2 212 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. And thick-ribb'd arches of encrusted spar. Cemented firm with liquid marble, hardening As it flowed to hardest adamant. Bulging- the earthy it rose a towering hill. Above all hills the pride; — within, a cavern Vast, dark, dreary, deep ; like Plutus' gloomy realm ; Where Nature, with her all-creative hand, 'Mid solemn solitude and darkness dense^ Has built cathedrals underground, and Gorgeous temples that outshine the Temples of the sun, where superstition BoAv'd at marble altars burnish'd o'er with gold. Where rich voluted columns rise, with marble Drap'ry hung; whose spangled roof hangs pendant With the crystall'd sculpture of a thousand years. Knotted and wreathed in bold festoons, like fretted Frostwork on some iceberg tall ; whose spotless Pavement is inlaid with snowy marble. Variegated o'er with veins of jasper smooth. Like waves of crystal rippling on the shore; While in each niche, and round the spacious dome. Stand countless statues chisell'd into form By filt'ring rills, that harden into stone. Erect and tall they stand, with a commanding Dignity that strikes the gazer with Unusual awe and superstitious fear. Wrought by stalactite art in Nature's mould. These solemn fabrics rear their domes sublime. To make a palace-workshop for her THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 213 Leisure hours, where she plays alchemist for Sport, distilling marbles through the filtering Rocks, and moulding pillars jasper'd o'er with glass From trickling liquids oozing through the roof. There, in her secret laboratory, she Analyses each, divides, compounds, and Then amalgamates opposing essences. Subduing stubborn matter to her will ; Producing thus, with an unerring hand, 'Mid darkness dense, strange and fantastic shapes. And wond'rous, curious things, on which the Red and flick'ring glare of th' adventurer's torch. Who, with a prying curiosity, explores Its unknown depths, casts an unusual And unearthly light, like flitting spectres On the Stygian shore; while dimly, indistinctly Seen, the pond'rous masses, sculptur'd into form. Colossus huge, seem suddenly to start from The retiring gloom, like waking giants Rising from their sleep in pandemonium's hall ! Such were the wonders of this wond'rous place. And more than these, far more — more than the muse Can paint, for these she never saw ; and it Is hard to paint a picture that the eye Ne'er view'd. Howe'er the brilliant fancy May the landscape gild, 'tis painting on the Clouds with error's pencil by a scale untrue ; It glitters for a moment bright and fair. Then fades, and vanishes, and disappears — A waning rainbow when the rain is o'er. o3 214 THE DiyAPPOINTMENT. And SO was Alfred's fancy led astray. He formed a glowing picture in his mind, Brilliant and glorious as the sun Could gild, then view'd it o'er delighted. Through a medium false, a prism telescope Refracted by the sun, that hlazon'd all. Where'er its rays obliquely fell, with Brilliants of a thousand dies, like Rows of emeralds, amethysts, and beryl. With rubies red, and topaz golden fire; Yet the dark cloud of Disappointment came Across the sunshine of his soul, and all Its glories in a moment fled. From caves and grottoes of subterr'nean gloom Emerging then, and mounted on a rock Far, far aloft, stood Alfred's friend, as 'twere. And show'd him all the scenery around ; Beside him Alfred stood, with tiptoe Eagerness, to catch the painted glory Ere it vanish'd from his view ; of bold. Romantic steeps, fringed with a gorgeous Covering of trees, that nod their shaggy heads O'er the bright crystal stream, that glides a bright And silvery mirror 'neath their sylvan shade ; Then changing all at once, like a vex'd child Awaken'd from its sleep, it frets and roars While dashing o'er the rocks, and headlong leaps The shelving barrier cliffs; then forms a Hundred mimic whirlpools round the moss-grown Stones, till dizzy with the reel it rolls away^ THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 215 A sheet of whiten'd foam. The scene then changes Down the winding dale. At ev'ry turn, the Varying landscape bursts upon the view, As if by Diagic w rought. So have we read In boyhood's days, of fairy lands in eastern Climes, where genii dwelt, and changed at will The gorgeous prospects of their bright abodes, 'Mid cloudless sunshine and elysian scenes. So seem'd the prospect now to Alfred's eye. Here rocks gigantic, rugged, bare, and bleak j There stony masses deck'd with foliage gay. Where creeping tendrils climbed and waved aloft. With rich luxuriance, 'mid the balmy air ; Here broken fragments, on each other piled, Hung poised, and trembling with the summer's breeze. As if some giants in their heyday sport Had fix'd them there, to cradle giant babes, That the storm-wind might rock them to repose : There stood enormous fronts of solid rock. Towering aloft in one unbroken mass. Like war-proof citadels, impregnable to all. Then suddenly the savage scene would change To lovely vales, by hills encompass'd round. Where beauty dwelt in all its brightest forms. And earth seem'd but a paradise of flowers ! Such was the wild variety of scenes, That Alfred's friend, in plain familiar words. Attempted feebly to embody into life : Such were the scenes that Alfred's ardent soul Painted in golden hues, and blazon'd round 216 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. With gems. To view such scenes as these, as form'd By Nature in her gayest hours ; to view them Palpable and real, in all their rich display, 'Twould have inspired the dullest drivMing soul That crept a reptile through defiling mire. And fed upon the dross and canker of the world. But to a soul like Alfred's, tuned to A pitch sublime, to see, to feel, to comprehend. To mark, investigate, and to admire, — What had his feelings been, had he enjoy'd, Admired, investigated all those lovely things. That must be now for ever unenjoy'd. Unseen, uncomprehended, unadmired ! But who can tell the Disappointment keen. That as the lightning pierced his soaring soul. As the barb'd arrow strikes the eagle down. While floating 'mid the clouds, and lays him in The dust : so down fell Alfred's hopes, when Those brilliant visions of that distant And far off" reality, were snatch'd away. And blotted from his view — for ever blotted From his anxious gaze, by Disappointment's Dark and drear eclipse, that never can emerge. His tender heart would melt whene'er he told His Disappointment o'er, and all his pleasures lost. He strove to hide his paitj beneath a smile, Yet all in vain — the glist'ning tears would start; He cheerful look'd, yet sigh'd — and as he smiled, he wept ! THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 21/ The soaring soul of genius can create. By its immortal, ever-blooming powers. New worlds, and regions uninhabited By man, and people them with creatures Beautiful as light. But though bright fiction Pleases oft, and wild imaginings lead Reason far astray, a willing captive. Through an endless labyrinth of delights, — Yet truth lasts longest, and is most approved. What though the roving fancy through the world May range, and picture beauties that it Never saw; yet when the eye can wander Unrestrain'd 'mid scenes by Nature drawn. And view the bright reality in all Its lovely forms, it then invigorates The mind, and helps the soul to soar and try Its dormant faculties, and waken into life. The seeing eye is as the loadstar, that Directs the soul to soar, and steer its daring flight. All Nature there is pictured to the sense; The sense transmits the painting to the soul; While genius catches at the glorious scene. And revels in the triumph of its powers ! Who can describe what they have never seen. Nor ever known, save by some vague report ? Behold yon radiant sun, how bright it shines, How vast, how glorious, how sublime ! Who could conceive the grandeur of its orb, Had it ne'er risen to illume the world ? 218 THE DISAPPOINTMENT. Who could have imaged forth its splendour great. Had it been fix'd beyond th' abyss of space. Beyond the realms of Sirius' glittering orb. Where its bright splendour could not pierce Through the vast medium to our distant world ? For us 'twould shine in vain, save that some Optic tube, with multiplying lens, might Chance descry it 'mid infinity of space. Like the bright twinkling of some lovely star. Set in the ebon zone that girds the brow Of night ! Who could conceive that star to be Our sun, our glorious orb ? Yet ev'ry Star that studs the vault of heaven, like Sapphire scatter'd on a velvet pall when Subjects mourn for kings, are radiant suns. As vast, as glorious, as sublime as ours ! Imaginations thus are led astray. When things are seen at far off distances. While the quick glancing eye, the soul's erratic Pilot through the world, strains ev'ry nerve to Measure and define the size, the shape, of Some pellucid gem, fix'd at the utmost verge Of its bright visual range, yet strives in vain : Then blind conjecture oft is left to grope Its way alone across the unknown void. While bright imaginings and swift-wing'd thoughts Are lost and wilder'd in the vast sublime ! And thus it was with Alfred, while those Splendid visions floated o'er his brain ; and THE DISAPPOINTMENT. 2 I 9 Every object that he saw with fancy's eye Seem'd some elysian view; till Disappointment's Thunder o'er the prospect burst, like a tornado O'er some lovely isle, that woke him from his dream. While its loud tempest swept them all away. Yes, Alfred might have told with rapt'rous joy, A theme delightful to his partial friends. Of his excursion through romantic scenes, And classic grounds, oft trod by unobserving, Unadrairing man. But now, alas ! with Swelling heart, and tenderest feelings rack'd, 'Tis his to brood o'er loss of ev'ry hope And tell aloud his melancholy tale, How Disappointment blasted all his joys ! THE SUNSET HOUR. 'TwAS ev'ning hour — the radiant sun Westward roll'd, his journey done; Round about him all the sky Glow'd with gorgeous drapery; Right before his pathway strow'd. Hung the flaming crimson cloud. Kindling, bright'ning, beaming, glowing. Brighter still and brighter growing ; While behind him and around Swept his azure mantle, bound (As swell'd his burning bright attire) With fretted gold, and fringed with fire ! Onward as he stately roll'd. Ocean shone like burnish'd gold. While splashing, sparkling as they came, Seem'd ev'ry wave a living flame : Kindling glory round him shone. While he, majestic and alone, Roll'd onward through the shining way. That kindling brighten'd into day. Far beyond the ocean flood, Open'd wide the portals stood Of his crystal chambers bright. With cloudless, uncreated light : THE SUNSET HOUR. 221 Through the arch celestial, he Roll'd with all his pageantry ; All his banners were unfurl'd. When he smiling left the world ; As he smiled, his parting rays Set the firmament a blaze. Higher mounting still and higher, Wrapt seem'd ev'ry hill with fire; Downward as the glory roll'd, Gemm'd was ev'ry leaf with gold ; Glistning, brightning, glowing, burning. Deeper still and deeper turning, Ev'ry hue was deep'ning still O'er valley, forest, sky, and hill I Softly, sweetly, smoothly flowing. Where flow'ry tufts and wild thyme growing. Fringe with their enarnell'd pride The margin of the murmuring tide. That darkling, bright'ning, sparkling roll'd, A flood of silver, beryl, and gold : While in its polish'd bosom shone Nature on her craggy throne, Whose brow with nodding woods was crown'd. And garlanded with shrubs around ! Far aloft she seem'd to stand. And shed her smiles o'er all the land ; Sublimely in her gayest dress. Her sweetest, fairest loveliness. She smiled from ev'ry hill and dale; From craggy rock, and flow'ry vale; 222 THE SUNSET HOUR. From grove and forest, lake and fountain ; From barren heath, and lofty mountain ; From all, from each, her radiance glow'd — From each, from all, her glory flow'd : She smiled a flood of radiant light. So rich, so pure, so clear, so bright. That all the Poet's feeble fire Before her brilliant beams expire ! Nor can he hope, nor dare express. The beauty of her loveliness : Yet still she smiled, but who can tell The wonders of her magic spell ? She smiled, yet who can paint the hue That ev'ry smile around her threw ? She smiled, nor can he dare to tell The wonders of her magic spell : She smiled, nor can he paint the hue That all her smiles around them threw : But O, she smiled so bright and fair. While all her lovely self was there ! ^Twas ev'ning hour — the golden sun Westward roU'd his journey on : Earth, with all her thousand isles. Lay basking in his parting smiles ; Hush'd was ocean's thundering roar. Her voice of storms was heard no more ; She calmly, smoothly, sweetly slept. While breathing music o'er her swept ; Her bosom's gentle heaving swell. Though felt was scarcely visible ; THE SUNSET HOUR. 223 Her emerald waves as they roll'd alone^, Came sweet as sound of seraph's song, Kissing the beach while rippling o'er, In whisperings died along the shore. High in air through the dappled sky. The chattering swallows wheeling fly. Racing, chacing, altogether. Through the liquid yielding ether : Now advancing, now retreating. Circling, winding, parting, meeting ; Upward soaring lost to sight. Downward now they speed their flight; Round and round incessant mingling. Floating, skimming, pairing, singling ; Oblique, transverse, or over head. The viewless labyrinth they thread ; Flutt'ring on with quiv'ring wing. Now they make the concave ring ; Screaming from a thousand throats. Far and wide the discord floats; Answering thousands screaming still. Echo back from dale and hill; O'er the land and o'er the sea. It mellowing melts to harmony. On wings of gossamer lightly borne. The tufted gnat blows his bugle horn ; By the hedge-rows blossom'd o'er. Like a cloud of dust they soar ; 'Mid the quiv'ring sunbeams playing. Through the flow'ry mazes straying, 224 THE SUNSET HOUR. Onward, onward borne along. Still they cliant their ev'ning song; By hedge-row, streamlet, meadow, rill. Still they wing their gay quadrille; Sinking, soaring, undulating, On the saffron ether floating ; Myriads leagued with myriads more. On the perfumed zephyrs soar ; Gaily frisking, blithe and free. Through their ev'ning revelry. Hark ! the floating music come — Music of the wild bee's hum : Through a wilderness of sweets. Rifling ev'ry flower he meets. The jocund wand'rer wings his way. And labours through the shining day; Far and wide howe'er he roam. When ev'ning comes he hurries home ; He packs his honey, mounts the air. And sings and hums away his care. From ev'ry bush, and shrub, and tree, Flow'd sweetest, richest melody; Music from a thousand throats. Swelling, mingling, onward floats, Undulating, full, and clear. Strikes and charms the ravish'd ear ; While bathed in floods of glorious light. The glowing landscape feasts the sight : Thus combined, it seem'd to be Gay Nature's festive jubilee ! THE LION HUNT; OR, THE BklDE OF THE DESERT. AN AFRICAN TALE. PART FIRST. Free through the desert roves the Lion bold. Lord of the forest, tyrant of the fold ; With daring aspect and terri6c mien, He ranges uncontroll'd o'er hill and plain, Bounds through the thicket in his wild career. Imparting fear to all, a stranger to all fear! Loud as the thunder bursts his awful roar. When deep his fangs he dies in purple gore; And sanguinary torrents stream around. While the red slaughter crimsons all the ground ! Yet, see him in his mild and placid mood. Pace leisurely through jungle, plain, or wood. With flowing mane around his shoulders spread. His looks of meekness, and his stately tread; His head erect with dignity he bears, With all the sober gravity of years ; P 226 THE LION HUNT; His form majestic, dignified, and free. Emblem of courage and of liberty ; In freedom's realm the forest king he reigns. Where man's a slave, and drags his tyrant's chains ! Soon as the sun gilds Atlas' lofty brow. And crimsons with his beams its robes of snow. Ere to the world he shows his burning face, Or mounts his coursers for the fiery race j As 'mid the orient isles he loves to stray. With his young smiling bride, the rising day; Before he 'merges from the azure deep. While half the world reposed in balmy sleep, Almouran issued from his palace gate. In regal pomp, and circumstance of state. Upon a fiery prancing snow-white steed He rode, of pure unmix'd Arabian breed; In rich caparison gorgeously array'd. That all its perfect symmetry display'd. With crimson velvet was the saddle bound. And golden nails thick spudded it around ; With costly housings of the brightest blue. Where silver stars its field of azure strew ; Embroider'd trappings glitter'd at its side. While bits of gold curb'd in its fiery pride : Curvetting on with ambling pace it pranced, While in the breeze its mane full flowing danced. Almouran, Prince of Barbary and Fez, His beauteous courser rode with graceful ease; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 22/ And nimbly as it paced the loosen'd sand. He curb'd its actions with a gentle hand. In purple caftan Avas Almoiiran drest. An elegant and a becoming vest ; A flowing mantle round his shoulders twined In graceful folds, and flutter'd in the wind ; Fix'd in his silken triple-twisted belt, A polish'd dagger gleam'd, with diamond hilt; Three burnish'd pistols, deep inlaid with gold. Were firmly fixM within the silken fold ; While at his side his two-edg'd sabre swung, And clank'd and glitter'd as it threat'ning hung. Upon his head he wore with noble mien, A silken turban of bright emerald green — A colour sacred to the chosen line Of their great head, immaculate, divin6. Full in the front, with rich embossment raised. The sapphire crescent in full splendour blazed. Beneath its azure flame more brilliant gleam'd From his dark eyes a nobler fire, that beam'd Like lightning's fiashes from the thunder cloud. That spoke a spirit haughty, fierce, and proud, [shown. Where the true despot rcign'd, where tyranny was Where life and death were in his smile and frown ! Before him rode six officers of state. While on each side two fav'rite negroes wait ; Those clothed in vestments of unsullied white, These drest in tunics glittering, rich, and bright. With folded turbans roU'd like drifted snow. And arm'd with sabre, quiver, lance, and bow, p2 228 THE LION HUNT ; Behind came trooping on, with proud display. Twice fifty sable Moors in rich array. With matchlock arm'd, and dirk, and scimetar, For pomp prepared, prepared alike for war. On dappled Arabs rode the warlike band. The pleasure waiting, and the stern comnaand; While following onward through the sandy plain. The prince and captain of the glittering train. With spirits high, and expectation strong. On nimble steeds they swift career'd along. Prompt at the stern command of Almouran, Six mounted Arabs darted past the van. Diverging thence at once six several ways, As from one centre stream the solar rays ; Fleet as the whirlwind blast they scour'd the plain. And urged their foaming coursers on amain j Then suddenly they curb'd their swift career. And fired their carbines in the empty air; Quick wheeling round, they back like lightning sped. Their carbines whirling dext'rous o'er their head. Amid the ranks they took their station'd place. While six again pursued the goalless race ; Charge, fire, and wheel, as those had done before. And in their turn give place to six succeeding more. Alternate thus the troopers beat the ground. To clear the way, and warn the country round : And ever and anon, as on they past. The trumpets blew a sonorous sounding blast; And while they cross'd the forest, plain, or fell. Before them fled the startled light gazelle; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 229 While herds of buffaloes that grazing fed. In wild alarm before the hunters fled : Yet nobler game Almouran sought that day. And to the desert urged his rapid way. [plored. Through lands unknown, through regions unex- 'Mong savage tribes, through many a barb'rous horde. O'er hill and dale, by forest, crag, and fell ; O'er dashing streams, through many a gloomy dell; ^Mid lovely landscapes, blooming, bright, and fair; Through sterile tracks, parch'd, desolate, and drear ; 'Mid scenes romantic, frowning, stern and wild; 'Mid smiling prospects, beautiful and mild ; With rapid speed they unadmiring pass'd. And to the desert's confines came at last. Here in a shady covert close entwined, A shelter from the hot and scorching wind, Form'd by the creeping vines of colacyrith. Whose scent perfumed the desert's arid breath. And form'd a garden like an Eden there. On the wide bound'ries of the desert bare : Almouran curb'd awhile the eager speed Of his impatient, fleet, and foaming steed : Dismounting thence, he left his courser free, To graze at will, or rove at liberty. The thronging troops around their chieftain stand. To catch his word, and do his strict command : The word was spoke, and promptly 'twas obey'd ; All, all unhorsed stood by his charger's head. Then each alternate to his comrade's care Entrusts his steed ; his task it is to share p3 230 THE LION HUNT; Some other toil, to clear the tangled ground Of rambling shrubs and flowers thick strew'd around ; An an\ple space they clear, while some unfold With care, the crimson canvas firmly roll'd ; And spread it out upon the surface dry. Warm in the sun beneath a golden sky. Firm to the ground its outward skirts they pin. And leave an ample circling space within; Then high they raise the drapery in the air. With spiring point and just proportions fair ; With silken cords the whole they circumvent, And thiis employ'd they pitch the I'oyal tent. Fix'd on the top the silver crescent beams. That from afar another Luna seems; Above the tent a lofty palm-tree towers. While all around bloom fragrant shrubs and flowers. At equal distances, and side by side. Full fifty more extend the circle wide ; And spread their whitening canvas to the sun, A rampart form'd to guard the centre one. Here safe encamp'd, the banquet they prepare, A beverage cool, and spices rich and rare; With coffee pure from Araby the blest. And cakes of rice, the freshest and the best ; While clouds of fragrant smoke perfume the air. Entrance each sense, and dissipate all care. The banquet ended, Almouran uprose. For toils prepared, more welcome from repose ; In troop and band he form'd the hunter clan. The signal given, the Lion hunt began. OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 231 Six sable Moors, in robes and turbans white. On dappled chargers, rapidly as light Dart from the ranks, and eastward hold their way Towards the point where opes the rising day. Diverging thence, they take a wider space. And singly pursue more cautiously the race. Westward again six warrior hunters bold. Towards the setting sun their journey hold ; Six more bound northward in their swift career. Where Atlas' snowy peaks in distance white appear; Southward six more on snorting chargers ride. Where rolls the sun in all his fiery pride. O'er hill, o'er dell, through tangled fell and brake, 'Mid jungle, sedges, tufted reeds, they take Their way; by caverns oft they pausing stand ; O'er treach'rous moving hills of drifted sand. They vent'rous go ; beneath the forest's shade They boldly trespass, fearless, undismay'd ; Searching around with cautious, watchful care. To track the Lion to his charnel lair. Meantime Almouran, and a chosen band Of fifty hunters mounted, take their stand. Impatient, restless, by the royal tent. All on th' alert, and waiting the event. They waited long, and yet no signal came; The sun roll'd high his mighty orb of flame ; And through the trembling, quiv'ring, misty air. Shot down his fiery, hot, and furnace glare. With burning passions, hot as Afric's sun, Almouran fret with rage, and had begun 232 THE LION HUNT ; To vent his fury on his absent slaves. Whose awful vengeance none uninjur'd braves : When from the south, where spreads the desert drear. Involved in clouds of sand, with wild career. Came Gamba flying on his foaming steed. The whirlwind blast outstripping in his speed ; Before him as he came his voice he sent. Yet ere the sound through the scorch'd element Could reach Almouran's eager list'ning ear. Was Gamba's smoking steed already there ! From off its steaming back, with agile bound, Then Gamba leapt, and knelt upon the ground ; With breathless haste and broken words he spoke : " Mohamed good, and Alia great, invoke ! O Almouran, thou mighty king of kings. Heaven favours thee with all its choicest things ; Our holy Prophet knows thy ev'ry want. Hears all thy prayers, and ev'ry wish will grant. Thy fav'rite steeds are foremost in the race ; Success attends thee in the desert chace ; For now, e'en now, when most thou dost repine. Pleasures in store are waiting to be thine ! For when I still my pathless way pursued Through the thick mazes of yon gloomy wood, I sudden came to a deep craggy dell. Where bubbling waters gushing ooze and swell; I made a pause beside a scantling brook. And stood a moment down the vale to look ; Nor staid I long before I heard a roar. That made my steed perspire at ev'ry pore ; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 233 And terror-struck he trembled every limb. While his wild wat'ry eyes grew glazed and dim ! Anon, amid the brake a sudden rush, Like to a whirlwind's devastating gush. And out there burst to my astonish'd view, A male and female Lion — Lions two — In fierce pursuit of a huge buft'alo ! I watch'd them till I saw them catch their prey. Then, then Almouran — then, I sped away ; My spear and turban I have left behind, A signal mark white waving in the wind. Then haste, Almouran, on thy Arab steed. Surround thd monsters as they growling feed ; Another courser for the coming fray, Almouran grant, and Gamba shows the way !" Ere Gamba finish'd, Almouran began. With eager haste, to form his hunter clan j With matchlock arm'd, with quiver, spear, and bow. Bright in the sun, they made a glitt'ring show : And ere he forward to the desert went. Twice twenty Arabs, guardians of the tent. He bid behind with watchful care remain. And those that unsuccessful left the plain. With gentle hand he soothed his courser's pride, Gave him the rein, and Gamba for their guide. Another courser Almouran supplies. And forward Gamba like a sand storm flies. Away he went, and rapid as the wind Came Almouran, with all his troop behind ; 234 THE LION HUNT; Dense clouds of sand accompanied their flight. Yet sand and troopers vanish'd swift from sight ! The forest gain'd, they spread on ev'ry side. And forin'd a circle round the covert wide; Toward the centre from each side they press. Yet onward, on — the circle waxing less. With shouts and yells they through the forest go. To terrify and rouse the lurking foe; At length the hunters 'mid the forest meet. Around the dell, and cut off all retreat. Far down the centre of the dale they see, ^ 'Neath the cool shadow of a plantain tree. The brindled monsters crouch'd in calm repose. Unconscious seemly of surrounding foes ; Gorged to the full, and more than hunger fed. Deep sleep fell heavy on each drowsy head. Gentle they look'd as harmless lambs the while, Y'et the torn relics of the bloody spoil, That rent and mangled still stream'd by their side. And their red whiskers in its torrents died, Betray'd them monsters of the fiercest brood, Whose food was slaughter, and whose drink was blood ! Almouran reconnoitred well the place. And three train'd panthers down upon the chase He sent, to rouse the sleepers from their lair. While for the chase the hunters all prepare. Swift down the dell the eager panthers sped. And track'd the lions to their gory bed; With barks and yells incessant they assail The startled sleepers, yet can naught avail OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 235 Their noisy war ; the Lions oped their eyes. And gazed around with leisurely surprise ; Orouch'd at their ease^ deliberate they began With earnest looks the yelping curs to scan ; Till wearied with the noise, as with the view. Their glancing eyes composedly withdrew. As deeming them not worth a thought or look. The Lion then around his shoulders shook His tangled mane, and open'd wide his jaws. And from his unsheath'd outstretch'd talon-claws Began to lick the clotted crimson gore. To cool his thirst, and make him thirst for more '. Almouran's fierce impatience now was shown ^ The trumpet summons loud and long was blown. To call the boldest of the hunter-men, To rouse the monsters from their charnel den. The brazen clang the shaggy Lion hears ; His eyes shot fire, he prick'd his list'ning ears. Rose on his feet, and shook his flowing mane. Gave one low growl, then crouch'd him down again. No longer waiting for the listless foe. In eager haste to deal the threaten'd blow. The Prince incautiously, with firm advance, Rush'd to the lair, and hurl'd his reedy lance. Deep in her side the female feels the wound. And struggling rises desp'rate from the ground ; A sullen howl she gave of rage and pain, And in full fury bounded on the plain ; Then, like a whirlwind from its prison broke, The awful terrors of the Lion woke ! 236 THE LION HUNT; Almouran saw, and dreading the event. Too late begun his rashness to repent ; Alone, unaided, he confronts the foe. Fearful to stay, and yet too proud to go : He calls aloud, his call is prompt obey'd. On ev'ry side they rush to give him aid; Yet ere that aid to his assistance came. Ere he had time to take a second aim, As true and well directed as the first. That vantage gain'd was in a moment lost. The shaggy monster for his wounded brid6 Rous'd all his fury, all his awful pride ; And in his full collected might he flew At Almouran, and steed and all o'erthrew. Prone on the earth the Prince and courser lay. To the fierce monster now an easy prey ; Yet timely aid to save them interposed. For round the furious brute the hunters closed. And with their lance and carbine, bow and spear. At once attack'd him in the front and rear. Hemm'd in on ev'ry side, and sore assail'd. Yet ev'ry eflfort to o'ercome him fail'd : Loudly he roar'd, and foam'd ; and fierce enraged. With dauntless might his leaguer'd foes engaged ; With mane erect, thick bristling o'er his head. He broke through all, and to the desert fled ! Meantime Almouran, rising from the ground, Stunn'd by the fall and bruised, without a wound, Mounted again his steed that trembling stood Perspiring by him, crimson'd o'er with blood. OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 237 He stanch'd the wound that in its neck was made, Allay'd the pain, and soon the bleeding staj'd ; Then off again with eager hot pursuit. He forward rush'd, to hunt the stricken brnte. Far down the glen, amid the tangled brake. Their bloody track the well-drill'd panthers take; Almouran follow'd as they led the way. And once again the monster set at bay. The splinter'd javelin sticking in her side. Forth from the wound still ooz'd the crimson tide ; With startled ears she heard the panthers' howl. And answer'd back defiance in a growl. With angry eyes and threat'ning aspect grim. While savage fury nerved her ev'ry limb. She saw Almouran on his bloody steed. Safe from the Lion's deadly grapple freed. More fierce return to hunt her through the dell. His rage on her to pour, and all the tyrant fell ! The rav'ning panthers sieged her close around. While frantic rage gave keener pangs her wound ; Beneath the brake she backward slow retired. When Almouran took stedfast aim, and fired. The ball unerring like a lightning flash. Broke through her skull with fatal murd'ring crash j And swift again as is the lightning's stroke. Fierce from her lair th' expiring savage broke : O'er bush and brake she like a demon sprang. And on the steed transfix'd her ev'ry fang ! Backward the courser in affright came down, While from the saddle Almouran was thrown ; 238 THE LION HUNT; Yet, springing up with light agility, He from the tangling trappings soon was free. Unsheathing then his two-edged scinfietar. He forward rush'd, and still maintain'd the war ; Deep in her side he plunged his glitt'ring blade. And all life's fountains open wide he laid I The tortured monster left the mangled steed. And sprung upon the Prince with whirlwind speed; Prone to the earth she bore him in her might. And turn'd the balance of the dubious fight! Far from his hand the reeking sabre flew ; Far from the help of all his hunter crew. Unhorsed, unaided^ helpless, and alone. Faint, weary, weak, and merciless overthrown. He lay supine amid the jungle wood. While o'er her foe the savage monster stood. With open jaws that belch'd forth foam and blood ! Her crimson paws with deathful weight she prest On Almouran's quick palpitating breast; Her glaz'ning eye she fix'd upon her foe, With stern complacency to see him low; Her tide of life was ebbing fast away. Yet to the Prince death seem'd to long delay. For his own life he had no longer fear. Yet her oppressive weight was hard to bear : To draw the fatal contest to a close. And end her life, her suffering, and her woes, With many efforts from his spangled belt, At last his dagger drew, and to the hilt OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 239 He plunged the blade, and leach'd her languid heart. Where waiting death warn'd feeble life to part ! The springs of life were in a moment stopt. She gave one dismal growl, and down she dropt. Now more oppress'd than he had been before. And almost smother'd with the monster's gore, Almouran fainting gave up all as lostj When sudden, Gamba, follow'd by a host Of hunters, wildly clattering down the glen. To seek the brute in ev'ry cave and den ; O'er brake and bushwood like a bird he flew, AVhen right before him burst th' appalling view Of the huge savage, fearless of her foes, Crouch'd at her ease, in seeming deep repose ! All drench'd in blood, and motionless she slept. While Gamba's courser o'er the monster leapt. Ere he could check his speed ; then wheeling round, His javelin launch'd, he pinn'd her to the ground. Beneath the wound she flinch'd not, nor awoke. But still slept on, nor felt the mortal stroke. Gamba, surprised, press'd closer with his steed, And from the wound he drew the bloodless reed • Then quick dismounting stabb'd the senseless brute. Yet passively she bore it, motionless and mute ! Meantime the hunters thronging round him press, And in loud cries their wild surprise express: Then Gamba and his comrades now besrin To flay the monster, and strip ofl"her skin. They roll'd her o'er upon the crimson'd ground Which open'd wide a deep and ghastly wound. 240 THE LION HUNT; Close to her heart, from whence a dagger fell — 'Twas Almouran's, and Gamba knew it well. Amazement seiz'd him as he gazing stood, And saw Almouran welt'ring, choked with blood ; Sudden he leapt across the lifeless beast. And in his arms the bleeding Prince he press'd : With anxious care he bore him through the brake. And gently laid him by the margin lake. Whose limpid waters, shelter'd, cool, and clear. Gave endless spring amid the desert drear. Here Gamba in the cooling crystal flood His temples wash'd, and freed his face from blood ; His caftan drench'd and stiff he open ripp'd. And off his mantle, torn and stain'd, he stripp'd. To give him air and let him freely breathe. If yet perchance he'd 'scaped the jaws of death. Meantime Almouran, from the savage freed. Who'd form'd a pillow for the monster dead, Wash'd and fomented in the lucid stream. Revived apace, and woke as from a dream. As Gamba watch'd, he saw him ope his eyes j Each gazed on each with motionless surprise, While Gamba breathed a prayer with looks upraised " Mohamed just, and Alia great, be praised ! Almouran dead, to life again is given, Gamba rejoice, and praise protecting heaven !" Then in a transport of unbounded bliss. He rose and seal'd a sacred faithful kiss Upon the chilly forehead, pale and wan; Of his loved prince and master Almouran : OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 241 And as each sense and faculty awoke, The Prince with frowning brow to Gamba spoke: " Tell me, vile slave, the meaning of all this. That thou presurn'st thy Prince's face to kiss ? Why am I here beside this lake alone ? Where are my slaves, where are the rebels gone ? And Where's my steed, my fleet, my fav'rite steed ? And why am I of all my vestments freed ? My sword, my dagger, and my pistols too ? Vile robber, nnud'rer, thou this deed shalt rue \" With inward rage and vengeance now he burn'd> And with returning life the tyrant all return'd. While Gamba, trembling like a stricken deer. Stood palsied, mute, and motionless with fear : Then on his face he supplicating fell. To the proud Prince, his artless tale to tell. Himself to clear from foul suspicion's stain. And win Almouran's confidence again. The Prince, astonish'd, listen'd to his tale. His frowning brow by turns grew dark and pale j Then mutter'd to himself deliberately. While on the slave he fix'd his piercing eye: " The pistol — dagger — sabre — Lion — steed — The combat fierce — the desp'rate bloody deed — The struggle life for life — th' invet'rate foe — The death — the conquest — and the overthrow — The rescue, by a slave — Almouran free ! Gamba, Almouran grants thee liberty ! Thou art no more a slave — be tjiou his friend And counsellor, and by his side attend ! 242 THE LION HUNT But where, where, where are all my slaves ?" he cried, " VVere't not for Gamba, Almouran had died : Yet for that deed the rebels all shall die ! Almouran swears — hear Alia, throned on high !" Then Gamba fell once more upon his knees. And begg'd the Prince to alter his decrees; Boldly and ardently did Gamba plead. And urged the favour of his beinsr freed : " Yet if thou wilt, make me a slave again. But spare, O spare Almouran, spare these men !" Thus Gamba pleaded, yet alas ! in vain : Stern frown'd inexorable Almouran, And in the full vehemence of his pride. To Gamba, trembling Gamba, thus replied : "A slave thou shalt be at thine own request. Kings should alone be free, slavery is best For such ignoble reptile worms as thee — Thus, Gamba, thus 1 alter my decree ! As for that vile, unruly, rebel clan. We'll teach them to obey Prince Almouran !" The Prince arose, and in his clean-wash'd vest. By the lake's mirror speedily was drestj Then shrill he blew the trumpet's brazen clang, That through the dell and forest loudly rang. The trooping hunters heard the well-known call. And hasten'd forward, for it summon'd all ; With foaming steeds they rush'd thro' bush and brake. And took their stations round the placid lake. Then Almouran, with vengeance ill suppress'd, Th' obedient, listening hunters thus address'd : OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 243 "Ye vile and rebel crew, why dared ye stray. And leave your Prince to savage beasts a prey ? Have ye not learnt we have all power on earth. And that rebellion from that power is death ? Then each prepare our chastisements to feel — ^Twill cure rebellion, and disorders heal \" Then with malignity and proud disdain. He toss'd his head, and strode across the plain; On Gamba's steed he mounted, for his own Lay wounded in the dell, and overthrown. Some sanguine deed to expiate the crime. He seem'd to meditate : then twenty at a time He marshall'd in review; the twentieth came. He took a steady and deliberate aim. Then fired ; the stricken victim lifeless fell. And splash'd with awful sound amid the wave. Like to a solemn death-toned passing-bell. That welcomed him to a cold wat'ry grave ! Then twenty more before the tyrant pass'd ; He fiercely eyed them, and marked out the last. And fired again ; the slave receiv'd the wound. He dropt into the flood, and soon was drown'd I Thrice twenty came, the twentieth felt the ball Deep in his side, yet stricken did not fall; But with the hunters drooping onward pass'd. Another twenty came ; the twentieth and the last He mark'd with surer aim, and mark'd him well ; He miss'd not here — the wounded victim fell : He faintly mutter'd as he was unhorsed, " The bloody tyrant now has done his worst!" q2 244 THE LION HUNT; Then fell with sullen plunge into the tide. That rippling splash'd in waving circles wide ; Then closed for ever on each murder'd slave. Whose suflerings o'er, had found a peaceful grave ! The execution done, they left the spot. The scene of blood, not soon to be forgot By those like guilty, yet not guilty there. Who witness'd all with trembling, deathlike fear. His Arab steed, all white as snow before, Hack'd, torn, and maim'd, and cover'd all with gore. He grieved to see in such a woful plight, And bid them take the fav'rite from his sight. By force they dragg'd the dying steed away. And to secure it from the beasts of prey. Deep in the earth a cavity they made, Wherein its just expiring corpse was laid ; Upon the place they heap'd the crumbling mould. And over all a pond'rous stone was roll'd. Almouran saw the deed with aspect sad. And mourn'd a fate so premature and bad : To lose his fav'rite thus 'twas hard to bear, And from his tearless eye was wrung a trembling tear. Almouran then gave Gamba strict command To form the hunters into troop and band : Then forward quick they march'd, while in the train They bore the trophies of the Lion slain. The camp they gain'd before the sun went down. While Almouran dismiss'd them with a frown : From toil and danger freed, each to his tent Retired, and in repose the sultry night was spent. OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 245 PART SECOND. The morning sun rose blushing o'er the plain. And with the sun arose the hunter train ; All life and bustle now was seen before Each snowy tent, and by Almouran's door. The prancing chargers snort on ev'ry side. While Moor and Arab soothes his fav'rite's pride ; Grooming their steeds with dext'rous, active care. The nimble Arabs for the hunt prepare. In richest housings their sleek forms they clothe. While the obedient steeds seem nothing loath To be thus dizen'd out and gaily drest ; With conscious pride they eye the gaudy vest, And toss their heads to make the trappings clank. Paw up the soil, and bite the bits, and prank ; Then prick their ears delighted at the sound. And frisk and caper on the tufted ground ! Once more the camp they leave at op'ning day. And to the desert take their eager way. To seek the Lion that had broke their toils. And hunt the savage for his shaggy spoils. The forest-dell with rapid speed they pass'd. And to the desert's borders came at last. Where swelling hills of sand spread wide and steep, While o'er its surface meagre tendrils creep j With here and there a palm-tree scatter'd wide Upon the barren soil, where naught beside (43 246 THE LION HUNT; Would grow, save scantling reeds, to cheer The aching sight, amid the prospect drear. Then once again, as had been done before. Six Arabs fleet, and yet again six more. Shot forward like a whirlwind o'er the land. And fearless plunged amid the moving sand ; While from the centre whence they fleet had sprung. Diverging wider as they swept along. The sun rose thirdway up the golden sky, And higher mounted yet, and yet more high. Almouran halted 'neath a palm-tree's shade. And waited long their coming long delay'd ; When in the west a trooper dim appear'd. That grew more visible as swift he near'd. Almouran's piercing eye first caught the view. And hail'd the trooper as he nearer drew ; He order'd all to horse without delay. And wait the summons prompt to march away. The hunter came upon his foaming steed, Uncurb'd his pace, unslack'd his rapid speed. Till by the side of Almouran he stopp'd. And at his feet he kneeling, trembling dropp'd. His faith to prove, his loyalty express. And beg forgiveness for his non-success. Almouran heard one word, he heard no more- It was the last — and in his anger swore. That all who served him thus were rebel slaves. Not fit to live, and doom'd them to their graves. The word was given — the trembling culprit now By two strong slaves was strangled with his bow ; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 24/ Around his neck the string they twisted tight. And puU'd against each other with their might; His life extinct, by Almouran's command. Upon his corpse they heap'd the drifting sand ! The sentence pass'd, the execution o'er, From north and east careering came two more : With equal speed they came in equal time. And non-success again was made a crime ; Enraged Almouran doom'd them both to death, The twisted bowstring stopp'd their struggling breath : Unburied on the sand they scorching lay. To pards and vultures left a welcome prey ! Despairing now to find the Lion's beat, Almouran call'd his hunters to retreat; In order station'd round the Prince they wait. To retrograde their march in regal state. The word was pass'd, and bounding on the plain. Each eager steed was given the slacken'd rein : Almouran turn'd to give a farewell look. When in the south a little cloud of smoke He saw, dim the horizon's utmost verge. Which seem'd to rest upon the desert's edge. He paused a moment, pond'ring in his mind What it might be — if sand raised by the wind. Or if some hunter tracking out his prey : It might be so, and he resolved to stay. Curbing his steed, he bade the squadrons halt. Wheel round, and wait to know the last result. Each eager eye in one direction turn'd. Gazed patiently, yet with impatience burn'd; 248 THE LION HUNT; Nor waited long before each glancing eye Could 'mid the cloud a horseman's form descry : Each to his comrade whisp'ring then began. And through the line a whisp'ring murmur ran. Almouran heard the indistinct commune, He ask'd its meaning, and was answer'd soon ; Each hunter answer'd for himself and clan, Twice fifty answers got Prince Almouran ; Yet all confused a jangling, jarring noise. That broke the meaning of each answering voice ! But soon the meaning was made evident. For each press'd forward eager and intent To be the first to find the mystery out. And put their doubts beyond a seeming doubt. Away they went, flank, centre, rear, and van, An undisciplined and unruly clan. The Prince they left behind, yet loath to stay. He dash'd amongst them as they wheel'd away ; Soon to the front he won his station'd place. And distanced all in the long goalless race. Still nearer, nearer, and more near they drew. While shorter still the less'ning distance grew j At length Almouran met the hunter steed. Who at his signal curb'd his rapid speed. And ask'd with breathless haste from whence he came And if he'd track'd successfully the game ? Zadamis, the doom'd slave of Almouran, This tale of wonder to the Prince began : " O Prince and Potentate, and mighty King, Such wonderous intelligence I bring, OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT, 249 That much I fear me thou wilt not believe. But say it was invented to deceive; Yet as I live, and Alia rules on hij^h, 'Tis true, O Prince, 'tis no invented lie," " What is," said Alraouran " thy tale to me ? I'll hear no tales — the Lion didst thou see ? If not, declare, and mock me thus no more. For thrice insulted have I been before ; And woe to him who dares the like again— His headless trunk shall roll upon the plain !" " Prince !" said Zadamis, with trembling fear, " Not to insult my lord I now appear ; I bring him joy, and wonder, and delight; I've seen — and thou, O Prince, may'st see the sight — 'Tis wond'rous to behold" — " AVhat hast thou seen ?" Said Almouran, with arrogance and spleen : " I've seen a huge maned I.ion stain'd with blood. With howling roar burst from a reedy wood !" " Thou'st seen a Lion ! slave, then tell me where;" " A Lion, Almouran, as thou shalt hear :" " A maned Lion ? haste and lead the way !" " A Lion, Prince — yet hear me out, I pray." " A blood-stain'd Lion ? 'tis the very same — Slave, haste — return — and lead the way thou came !" " Prince, I obey, and onward as we ride. Permit a slave — he something saw beside," " Thou saw'st a Lion — that thou told before — What else thou saw'st Almouran hears no more." With disappointment Zadamis sped on. His comrade hunters straggling one by one, 250 THE LION HUNT; Came trooping up, and throng'd upon his rear : If Ahnouran was deaf, perchance they'd hear His wond'rous tale, and ask to know the cause. More patiently, and give him more applause. To Gamba then his converse he address'd. While pressing on came thronging round the rest. " Upon yon hills," said Zadamis, "I stood. To rest my steed awhile, when from a wood Of bush and reeds a monstrous Lion burst; As near I ventured as I safely durst. To watch the progress of the savage brute. Which I beheld in eager full pursuit Of some strange creature wonderful to see. Half bird, half man, the monster seem'd to be; With two huge bony legs, swift, sinewy, strong. With two broad flapping wings it sped along; Two heads, two faces, seem'd together join'd. One forward look'd, the other look'd behind ! It flew not in the air, but swiftly sped along, A running, flying speed ; while, following on. The huge maned Lion, with less nimble pace. Still eagerly pursued the losing race ! At intervals the winged monster stood. And waited for its foe that still pursued. And for a moment set him full at bay, Then both its faces turn'd the selfsame way ; And from its flapping wing it seem'd to dart A feathery shaft full at the Lion's heart; Aside he started with a sudden bound. As if he felt and own'd the piercing wound : on, THE BRIDE OF THE DESKRT. 251 Then off again they sped in full pursuit, The flying monster, the pursuing brute ! I saw no more, but hasten'd swift away. That Almouran might catch the Lion and his prey !" Almouran list'ning heard, yet answer'd naught, Too proud to be observed, or have it thought He converse held with slaves ; yet glad surprise Smiled on his cheeks, and sparkled in his eyes. He urged the hunters to increase their speed. Showed them the way, and took himself the lead ; Their rapid path deep in the desert lay, 'Mid moving sands, a dang'rous, dreary way; O'er scatter'd pebbles, pumice-stone, and shells ; By dry, exhausted, and deserted wells; They pass'd like lightning o'er the scorched land. Where naught was seen but seas of burning sand ; At last they came to the sand-drifted hills. Which ev'ry wind that blows removes or swells. From hence they saw in the horizon far, A faint erratic twinkling like a star ! Toward that glittering point their course they steer. Yet soon 'tis lost ; while to their sight appear Two moving objects in the distance dim. That on the sandy surface seem'd to swim ! Then Zadamis with rapture clapt his hands. And shouted "Yonder see upon the sands, Untired still their endless race they hold, The winged monster, and the Lion bold !" Then Almouran advanced and gave command. To widely spread themselves on ev'ry hand. 252 THE LION HUNT; And form a circle round the savag-e pair. And hedge them in with bristling pointed spear. Away they went full many a league around. And in a hostile snare the panting monsters bound ! The circle narrow and more narrow grew; Almouran nearer and yet nearer drew. Then curb'd his steed to take a clearer view. With ardent gaze and looks of great surprise, While joy and wonder sparkled in his eyes. Unmoved he stood, yet trembled with delight. To see so fearful and so strange a sight ! In wonder lost, admiring and amazed. With mute astonishment the hunters gazed. Nor rais'd a lance, nor bent an arrow'd bow. To strike their game, or lay them bleeding low ! No game was this for tyrants blood to spill. Too free, too noble for a slave to kill ! A Virgin hunter on an ostrich steed The Lion chased with all his savage speed ; Pierced o'er with darts, and foaming mad with rage. With his fleet foe in vain did he engage : He follow'd still as still she made him roam Far from his lair, towards her desert home. Now here, now there, she wounds him where she will. He lingering dies, while she delays to kill ; True fly the darts, yet none attempt his life. But fiercer still provoke him to the strife ! The thronging hunters round them gazing stood. All quench'd their eager thirst for shedding blood ; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 253 While Almouran press'd on and nearer drew. The Virgin and the Lion full in view : And nearer still as on he did advance. He rais'd his arm and pois'd his trembling- lance. To strike the Lion with one fatal blow. And win the honour from his Virgin foe. Just as Almouran came to share the fray. The huntress set the Lion full at bay ! Confronting each they stood, at each they gazed. Then eyed askance the hunters half amazed ; Yet naught afraid, the Virgin took her aim To strike her prize, and win her hard-earn'd game : And ere the Prince his lifted lance could throw. Swift sped the arrow from her bended bow. True through his dauntless breast pursued the dart. And lodg'd its arrowy barb deep in his heart ! Down sunk the noble savage on the sand, O'erthrown and conquer'd by a female's hand ! Convulsed and stricken to the vitals sore. He bellow'd forth his last loud thund'ring roar j While in a growl of menace fled his breath. In life unconquer'd, unsubdued in death ! Almouran gazed upon the matchless maid. While kindling love his eager eyes betray'd ; With due respect he nearer to her press'd. And thus unturban'd he the maid address'd : " lovely maid, with fearless, daring soul. That dost the destinies of kings control ; Say, why upon this desert dost thou rove, Thus form'd by nature for the courts of love ? 2o4 THE LION HUNT; Thy heavenly form seems to my wond'ring eyes One of the Houris dropt from paradise. To give Almouran one sweet glimpse of love. That waits the faithful in the world above ! Thrice happy, honour'd, hallow'd be the day. That brought Almouran, Prince of Fez, this way. To gaze upon such beauteous charms as thine, O more than earth-born, lovely maid, divine ! Yet why, sweet maid, in such a dreary place. Pursuing such a dangerous, bloody chase? 'Twould more befit thy pleasure smiling hours, To live and love amid Hesperian bowers ; There, in the luxury of fond delights, Spend all thy days and all thy blissful nights. Thyself a flower more sweet than all the rest. For ever blessing, and for ever blest!" Almouran paus'd, and waited a reply ; She met his fiery glance with piercing eye : Then unembarrass'd she her silence broke In graceful eloquence, and boldly spoke: " Thy random speech I cannot comprehend. Nor what thy business herej as foe or friend Dost thou surround with all thy war parade, A lonely and defenceless desert maid ?" " As friend I" with ecstasy, cried Almouran. " Then bid thy fierce and savage-looking clan Ope wide their circling line, and let me go — Pause not, but haste, or thou art Mirza's foe !" She turn'd her feathery steed to go away. When Almouran : " O lovely virgin, stay — OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 255 Live, reign with me, and be Almouran's friend I" " Thou art my foe, our friendship here doth end ; Give way, and let me pass, before I dart A barbed arrow at thy coward heart ! That Lion was a nobler, braver foe than thee. Courageous, fearless, generous, and free ! In his own power alone he puts his trust. While tyrants hunt him with their servile host. He is my lawful prey, for by this hand He fell, while thou, with all thy pilf'ring band> Like fell hyaenas, furious, fierce, rush in. To share the spoils that thou didst never win !" Almouran felt this stinging, keen reply. While rage and love shone mingling in his eye: " These spoils, bold, dauntless Virgin, still are thine. Far richer spoils has this blest day made mine j For know, O lovely maid, nor more nor less. Than thine own self must Almouran possess !" " Let those possess that win !" was her reply ; Then at his steed a feathery shaft let fly : Down came the charger headlong on the plain — The hunters shouted, "Almouran is slain [" And rush'd tumultuous round their fallen chief. To help, if wounded, and to give relief; Yet their ofBciousness was all in vain, He fell unscathed, unhurt he rose again. Then at his bidding back they all retired. Yet one, presumptuous, primed his piece, and fired : True to the mark, he struck the ostrich down. And Mirza in her turn was overthrown ! 256 THE LION HUNT; She gave a piercing scream of wild surprise. While rage and vengeance kindled in her eyes; Up from the ground she sprung, besmear'd with blood. And in her native dignity she stood. Like some arm'd goddess rising from the sand. Within the circle of the hostile band ! Her clust'ring curls of streaming ebon hair. That dangled round her face and forehead fair. With graceful dignity she toss'd behind. And left them floating in the sultry wind ; Her plume of ostrich feathers, blue and red. Waved to and fro, and flutter'd round her head. With stately step, majestic, firm, and slow. While in her hand she held her bended bow. With arrow fix'd on the elastic spring. Like a crouch'd tiger ready for a spring ! Then slow advancing to the Prince she spoke : " How long wilt thou a lonely maid provoke ? Prince, Almouran, or whatsoe'er thou art. Prepare thyself to catch this winged dart! Vengeance is mine, and vengeance now I claim, A desert maid am I, and Mirza is my name : Thy coward slaves have kill'd my winged steed, More fleet than all thy boasted Arab breed : And for the bloody act thy coward slaves shall bleed! How can I now regain my distant home ? How through the sinking sands and deserts roam ? By savages hemm'd in as by a wall. That tyrant slaves may triumph at my fall I" OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 257 " Unconquer'd maid, heroic and divine ! These are thy slaves, and Almouran is thine ! Command us here, submissive we obey, We go at thy command, at thy command we stay ! And Mirza said, meihiiiks, she had no home. But through the desert was obliged to roam ; Then why delay amid these burning sands ? Almouran dwells 'mid rich and fruitful lands. In gorgeous palaces, and cities fair ! With Mirza there he all these things will share ; And if she wish, and it be Mirza's need. There too shall she possess an ostrich steed." " I scorn thy words, and all that thou canst give; Free was I born, and free I still will live ! Then give me way, and let me now depart. Before this arrow probe thy treach'rous heart !" Almouran stept aside, struck mute with awe ; Her words and actions seem'd to give him law. His deep embarrassment she mark'd, and said. With rising pride, " Bold Prince, be not afraid ; A timid Virgin 'tis before thee stands. With but a slender weapon in her hands; 'Twould grieve my soul if I thy blood had spilt. Yet hear my stedfast purpose : if thou wilt Dismiss thy slaves, and on the desert sand, Unguarded, unsupported, take thy stand ; And dare me if thou darest to prove thy might. In equal combat and unaided fight : Honour be thine, while Freedom prompts ray strife, AVhen blood for blood shall flow, and life for life; 258 THE LION HUNT; Then prove thou art a Prince, that thou art brave — Be Mirza thine, or be thou Mirza's slave !" " O, Mirza, Mirza! hard is thy request; Yield to my love, and make Almouran blest. My willing slaves thy dictates shall obey. Then, lovely Virgin, let us haste away : The banquet now awaits us at the tent. And joy and bliss attend the blest event !" " Twelve shafts have I within my quiver yet. And ev'ry shaft shall be with life-blood wet; Ere I to thee yield up my liberty. Tyrant of slaves, and traitor to the free !" " No way to win thy love, most lovely one ? Will no concession please ?" "Almouran, none !" "Thy fate is seal'd, then; yet, bold maid, beware. Provoke me not, nor my resentment dare ! I have the power — I ask thee thy consent — Yield while thou may 'st— too late wilt thou repent !" " Never, while I am free !" " Slaves, seize the maid !" In part the summons slowly was obey'd ; Nearer they form'd the straggling circle wide. And closely hemm'd her in on ev'ry side. "Almouran, warrior. Prince, thou may'st retire. And see how Freedom can a female fire ; Wait not to be by Mirza overthrown, 'Twould win me fame, yet sully thy renown ; But for this savage and blood-thirsty crew. They one snd all the coward act shall rue!" One foot on the dead Lion, firm she placed^ Then boldly, undisraay'd, the hunters faced. OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 259 Around her neck a silver crescent liuncr, That with her graceful motion trembling swung, Liiik'd to a chain of pure barbaric gold^ That round her curving neck luxuriant roll'd, Suspended on her panting bosom fair. And gleam'd and glitter'd like a twinkling star. Her clustering ringlets dangled round her brow. While to her breast she rais'd the arrow'd bow ; Like an arm'd goddess in her might she stood. While each admiring eye the matchless warrior view'd. Quick as the shafts she fix'd, the string she drew. The whizzing arrows swift as lightning flew ; Unerring in her aim, she dealt around. And certain death attended ev'ry wound ; At bay she kept the wond'ring awestruck troop. Who saw on ev'ry side their comrades droop. Twelve sable Moors were stretch'd upon the plain. Pierced by twelve shafts, and mingled with the slain. Almouran to the centre ranks retired ; Fear, anger, love, and admiration fired At once his soul, and in the chaos tost. He gazed entranced, while ev'ry sense was lost. When all her fatal death-wing'd shafts were sped. Then fled the fear, th' inspiring awe, the dread. That kept aloof the troopers fix'd at bay ; Fierce on they rush'd to take th' entangled prey. Almouran forward urged before the rest. And thus the fearless warrior maid address'd : " Seest thou the slaughter that thine hands have mado? What ransom for this outrage must be paid ?" r2 260 THE LI»N HUNT ; Then Mirza, quick retorting, answei'd thus i " And who Avill recompense me for my loss ? My fav'rite ostrich by thy cowards slain, Lies stiff with gore upon the sandy plain." " My fleetest steed be Mirza's in the stead Of her slain ostrich, useless now, and dead : If nothing but an ostrich thee will please. One shalt thou have when we arrive at Fez." "Thy steed can ne'er be mine — thy ostrich — no- Then ope thy ranks, and let thy pris'ner go." " Thou canst not go but where Almouran goes — Fair maid, consent, 'tis useless to oppose." " What ! be a slave unto a tyrant's will ? If I must die, upon this desert spill A virgin's blood ; here will I take my stand — Thrice coward slave who on me lays his hand !" " This wordy war, fair Virgin, lasts too long. The weak must ever yield them to the strong j Our unsuccessful parley here must end. Yet, Mirza, know Almouran's still thy friend !" He ceased to speak, she made him no reply. But on him cast a proud and scornful eye. " To horse, to horse !" cried Almouran ; " away- Fast down the sky rolls the declining day ; Secure the spoils that we this day have won. And leave the sands ere sets the sinking sun." Prompt was the word^ and promptly they obey. All stand in order's regular array ; A dappled steed to Almouran was brought. Then in his arms the desert maid he caught. OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 261 And vaulted like a hero on his seat, Proud of his conquest, prouder of defeat! She gave a scream of wild untamed surprise. While shame and anger sparkled in her eyes j She struggled hard, and panted to be free. Vain were her efforts now for liberty. Forth from her bosom with disguise she drew A polish'd dagger kept conceal'd from view. And at the Prince a vengeful blow she struck. Yet in his thick woof belt the weapon stuck. And to Almouran wrought no further ill. Yet by the blow his blood she aim'd to spill. He took the dagger by its silver hilt. And fix'd it safe behind him in his belt. Mirza defeated in her deadly aim. And conscience stricken, felt a guilty shame ; O'ercome with toil, o'erpower'd by wild alarms, She sunk and fainted in Almouran's arms. He round her lovely form his mantle threw. To shield her from the sand-gusts as they flew; The precious charge he to his bosom press'd. Soft pillowM there upon his beating breast. Now to the desert drear he bade adieu ; Through drifting sands like light gazelle he flew; Behind him as he sped dense clouds arise Of pulver'd sand, and dim the orient skies. The sun had set beneath a sea of sand. And purple gloom came creeping o'er the land : The desert pass'd, the forest dark appears. Where prowling monsters waken'd all his fears; r3 262 THE LION HUNT; Not for himself, but for the desert maid He anxious felt, for her he was afraid. The troopiiif? hunters crowd around the Prince, To guard him safe, his shield and his defence: The forest cross'd, they gain the camp once more. Rejoiced to find their toils and dangers o'er. Within the royal tent a tent they raise, To shield the Virgin from obtrusive gaze; Encurtain'd there she calmly took repose, A soothing solace for her toils and woes : Around the tent they watch with wakeful eyes. To guard escape within, without to guard surprise. PART THIRD. When morning shone, the camp once more was gay j The Hunt was ended, yet with early day. The Moors and Arabs, bustling to and fro. This way and that they hurrying come and go; From tent to tent their passing comrades greet. And salams pay each other as they meet ; The harness'd steeds stand ready by each tent, Pinn'd to the ground their straying to prevent. Alraouran restless from his couch arose. To sleep a stranger, wearied by repose; His anxious thoughts on Mirza ever fix'd. To guard her safe his aching mind perplex'd— - OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 263 To guard the maid, and win lier untamed soul From desert wilds to love's more kind control. They then prepare a cool and rich repast Within the tent, and break their morning fast; Ripe fruits and nect'rous bev'rage they prepared. The best of each the Prince with Mirza shared. She kindly took whate'er he kindly gave, ■ " As most became," she said, " a conquer'd slave I" The banquet ended, then Almouran took The desert maid before the tent, to look At the gay scene spread round on ev'ry side ; The stately coursers, deck'd in all their pride ; The bustling Arabs ever on th' alert; The fiery Moors throng at their dang'rous sport. Of launching javelins in their swift career. While others catch them as they cut the air. The white-spread tents that round the centre run. With crimson tinged, caught from the rising sun ; Steeds, Arabs, Moors, tent crowding upon tent ; She looked amazed, and wonder'd what it meant : A scene like this had Mirza never view'd — Delighted at the sight, she still admiring stood. Almouran said, with soft and soothing voice, " Of all these steeds, fair Mirza, take thy choice ; Choose which thou wilt, 'tis thine, and yet again Select thee twice five Arabs from my train. To be thy slaves, and at thy side attend ; Then, Mirza, choose Almouran for thy friend." The maid, with half a frowning smile, replied. While shone her eye with arch dissembling pride : 264 THE LION HLNT; "A captive Virgin must perforce comply. And be his friend who stole her liberty. Thy slaves I need not ; I, who am a slave. No power and no authority can have ; Thy offer I accept to choose a steed. Of that methinks I shall have future need ; Yet ere I choose I fain would see a race — Bid all thy Arabs form a mimic chase — *Tis what I never saw — along the plain. And round yon distant palm-tree home again." The word was given, the Moors and Arabs fled. Like winged arrows driven to the head ; Thick clouds of sand obscured all further view. Yet forward to the goal they whirling flew. The palm-tree gained, they visible appear. The drifting sand pursues their flying rear; They come, they come, with awful swift career. Their rapid speed disturbs the sleeping air; Nor whip nor spur the willing coursers need : Garaba is first upon his creamy steed; Before him as he comes he drives the wind. While panting in the rear the rest lag far behind. " Be this my steed," said Mirza, as it came. Forth from its nostrils breathing smoke and flame. Almouran granted what the maid desired, Then both again within the tent retired. Meantime the hunters straggling o'er the space. Brought up the details of the lingering race. Then each dismounted by his own consent. While each began to strike th' encampment tent, OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 265 And fold and pack its furniture with care. Their sumpter horses load, and for their march prepare. The Prince again brought Mirza to the door. And show'd her round as he had shown before. No tents were there with flutt'ring canvas white. All, all, had sudden disappear'd from sight. She look'd ai'ound where the white tents had been. Yet naught but flowers and rambling shrubs were seen. She ask'd the meaning of this strange design : The Prince then pointed to the warlike line Of hunters, mounted ready on the plain To march awav, and seek their homes ai^ain. "And are these hunters then to march away ? And will Almouran in the desert stay ?" " Here could I dwell with thee ; yet, Mirza, no — With these bold hunters, Mirza, we must go; There gay caparison'd ready stands thy steed. Mount, maiden fair, and try his swiftest speed." Bright shone her eyes, and joy danced in her heart, AVhile ill conceal'd she play'd her artful part; Like young gazelle with nimble tripping feet. She seized the rein, and vaulted to her seat. Almouran then his prancing steed bestrode, And side by side the Prince and Mirza rode. The signal given, and prompt at his command The hunter troops filed off on either hand. And in their ranks the Prince and Mirza close. To watch escape, and guard from lurking foes. The desert sands afar they left behind. And one alone at leaving them repined ; 266 THE LION HUNT; 'Twas Mirza, who with pride repress'd the sigh. Yet watch'd the hunters with a jealous eye. For ever on th' alert, all eye, all ear. To catch occasion when it might appear, And try once more the swiftness of her steed. To be a slave, or be for ever freed. A gloomy forest dark before them frown'd ; To pierce its depths or skirt its margin round. Were two alternatives, yet which to take Almouran paused; when sudden from the brake A Lion huge, with aspect grim and fell, Rush'd forth to chase a timid light gazelle ; With bellowing roar, and all erect his mane. He bounded in his might across the plain. The trooping hunters joyful hail'd the sight. And swift the fell pursuer put to flight; With headlong haste they rush'd, and courage blind. Forgetful of the charge they left behind. Away they went, deserting to a man The captive maiden and Prince Almouran : Gamba alone remain'd, while all the rest Without a license hunt the savage beast. Deep 'mid the forest's gloom he led the way. Twice fifty hunters pressing hard their prey; Close pinn'd at last within a rocky dell. Pierced o'er with darts, the noble savage fell : Then all throng'd round the trophy of their toil. Ere life expired, to rob him of his spoil. Stripp'd of his skin, the savage now no more. The hot delirium of the chase being o'er. OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 26/ The Lion slain, they see at once they're wrong. Then hurry back a wild unruly throng. Meantime Almouran and the desert maid All lonely left, seem'd each of each afraid ; They eyed each other with a jealous look. Then Mirza thus to Prince Almouran spoke : " Why stand we here, Prince, when all thy train Are scatter'd wide through forest, dell, and plain ? A Lion is the sport that slaves pursue. Then why not Mirza and Almouran too ? A desert Virgin soon the game will find — Almouran, follow, or remain behind !" She said no more, but gave her steed the rein ; To stop her now or call her back were vain : Swift as the eagle cleaves the azure skies. Swift o'er the plain the desert V'irgin flies; Yet not to hunt the Lion for her prey, Herself now hunted flies another way. Almouran struck with wild amazement stood. Then urged his steed, and eagerly pursued ; Swift as an arrow from a bended bow Pursues the eagle's flight to bring him low : So swift Almouran's foaming steed did urge To its last gasp with rowell'd steel and scourge. Back to her desert Mirza swiftly fled, A long and dubious race Almouran led ; Hard was the contest, desperate the strife. The chase was now for liberty and life ! More fleet her steed, its burthen lighter far Than Almouran's, clad in the pomp of war ; 268 THE LION HUNT; Yet, yet with desp'rate burning zeal urged on, Almouran near'd upon the truant one ; And might perchance his losing prize have gain'd. Had his exhausted steed its speed retain'd : But failing in its strength, at ev'ry bound Almouran lost, while Mirza gain'd the ground. To see before him fly the Virgin fair. Drove him to fury and to mad despair ; His rage he vented on his panting steed. Yet all in vain, to urge its swifter speed ; The more he follow'd, more he lagg'd behind. When sudden bursting on his ardent mind A thought like lightning flash'd, to do a deed Of desp'rate daring, would it but succeed. His arm he nerved, his trembling heart beat high. He aim'd a shaft, yet dared not let it fly ; Its death-wing'd barb might strike the desert maid- Fearless of soul, yet love made him afraid. Down dropt the bow, his hand still held the string, Yet dared not launch its arrow on the wing ; A desp'rate chance dwelt in the arrow'd bow, 'Twixt life and death, to win or lay her low. He feared to lose her, yet he feared to harm — Then nerving once again his heart and arm. He drew the feather'd arrow to its head. The string twang'd shrill, the arrow whizzing sped ! He trembling, fearing, watch 'd its glancing speed. Then wish'd undone the bold and desp'rate deed. With aim unerring, swift the dart pursued The flying fugitives, and deep imbued on, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 269 Its head with gore, and pierced the charger's flank. That down exhausted, breathless, wounded sank. Ahnouran urged his gasping steed along. And once again the desert virgin won. Like some fierce Lion darting on his prey. From rocky brink where crouch'd he watching lay. Into the vale below : so Almouran With eager haste down from his saddle sprang. And forward rush'd to raise the fallen maid. To cheer her heart, nor bid her be afraid. Clasp'd in his arms, erect once more she stood. The Prince enraptured her fair features view'd ; And on her charms he long admiring hung. While rapture burst unbidden from his tongue: " By Alia and those eyes that sparkling shine. Twice won, fair Mirza, thou art doubly mine I" With modest shame she turn'd her head aside. Then heav'd a sigh, and wish'd that she had died, " Thou shalt not die," said Almouran, " but live To grace our court, and splendour to it give : There shalt thou reign the queen of ev'ry heart. And Mirza then no more from Almouran shall part." He said, then clasp'd her closer to his breast. Upon his wearied steed, and homeward press'd More leisurely than he before had sped. When Mirza from his swift pursuit had fled. The hills in view, and merging from the plain. He Gamba met careering on amain ; Thus distanced far, a wide unmeasured space. Though first he started in the desp'rate race. 2^0 THE LION HUNT; Returning thence, and straggling one by one. The hunters came, who far astray had gone ; With guilty looks and slavish fear they came ; The Prince ask'd each his errand and his name. He Gamba bid to note them strictly down. Then pass'd them by with a dark threat'ning frown, That seein'd to seal their fate when they should gain The pleasant vale of Fez's mountain plain. His wayworn steed Ahiiouran then forsook. And from the troop the best and strongest took j His precious charge he safely placed before. Upon the gold-fringed mantle that he wore ; Then vaulting up behind with nimble haste. He rein'd the steed, and ciasp'd the virgin fast. No more dared he entrust her from his sight. Grown jealous now, and wary by her flight; He thought her not secure, save in his arms, There safe enclasp'd it freed him from alarms; He saw, he felt, he still possess'd his prize. And joy and pride bright sparkled in his eyes. He journey'd forward with his captive maid ; The hunter troops that had their charge betray'd. And unprotected left them on the wild. Their frolic o'er, to duty reconcii'd. Now crowded round the Prince officiously. To court his smiles, and win his piercing eye. Almouran saw them not, nor would he see, Though well he knew what its intent might be ; Nor did he want their aid as heretofore. He'd Mirza safe, she could escape no more : OU, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 271 Not for himself nor Mirza now he fear'd. For in the distance dim the spires of Fez appear'd. The Prince's coming, hke each great event. Its -warning voice before him forward sent; The gladsome tidings through the city flew, And congregating hosts collecting grew To a vast multitude, that like a tide Roll'd headlong on, impetuous, deep, and wide. Forth through the gates the living torrent rush'd. The bold and strong the weak and feeble crush'd ; While rapid flow'd the streams that none could stem. And backward bore all that encounter'd them. Now on the plain the bustling, swelling crowd Waved to and fro, with voices waxing loud. Fermenting riot they each other push'd ; The trumpet sounded, all was still and hush'd — While keen anxiety attracts each eye. To see the Prince in all his pomp pass by. A thousand horsemen arm'd with swords and spears. Five hundred bows, five hundred musketeers. Line all the way on either side the gate. To welcome home their King with regal state; While ev'ry eminence and ev'ry hill With gazers crown'd, the crowd increasing still. At last the signal of a murm'ring hum From distant voices cried, " They come, they come !" Augmenting still as 'mid the crowd it pass'd. Till through the multitude it ran at last : And louder still the joyful tidings rise. That fill'd the air, and echo'd to the skies; 2/2 THE LION HUNT; " They come, they come !" was peal'd on ev'ry side, " The Prince Ahiiouran and his Desert Bride !" Meantime Almouran curb'd his eager speed. And seated Mirza on another steed ; Close by his side she rode unveil'd and free. In all her artless, native dignity. A kingly bearing now Almouran wore, While round about, behind him, and before. The thronging train to make a gorgeous show, Attend his steps with measured pace and slow. Through the dense throng an avenue was made, Where the procession march'd with grand parade. The Prince on Mirza gazed with joyous pride. To see her safe, and seated by his side ; While she with downcast looks and modest mien. Afraid to see, and fearful to be seen, Kept her fix'd eyes intently on the ground. Nor seem'd to mark the splendid scene around. As through the gazing multitude they pass'd. And to the guarded archway came at last. Five times ten thousand voices fill'd the air. Ten times five thousand mingled in the prayer. With pealing shouts, as thus they joyful cried, " Long live the Prince ! long live the Desert Bride !" Loud songs of joy the gladsome people sung. Till hills and vales with the loud echo rung. Mirza alarm'd, and trembling with affright. Gazed timidly upon the splendid sight j And ask'd Almouran as her only friend, " Why that vast crowd, that seem'd to have no end ? OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 273 And why those shouts and loud terrific yells, That shake the vale, and echo from the hills ?" " Those shouts of joy, and this assembly vast," Said Almouian, as 'mid the crowd they pass'd, "Are all my subject slaves, and I am thine. Fair Mirza, lovely maid, heroic and divine; And those the welcomes are that greet thee home. No more o'er trackless desert wilds to roam I" She answer'd naught to this high flattering strain. For well she knew objections were in vain ; She silence kept, and ponder'd o'er her fate. As through the arch of the triumphal gate They rode, raid pealing shouts and deaf'ning cries. That wider, further spread, and louder, higher rise. Then in again the crowd flow'd deep and strong. And all were borne upon its tide along; Eager they rush'd to catch a nearer view Of her who half Almouran's troop o'erthrew ; Herself o'ercome at length by Almouran, Whom all accounted now as more than man. On each they gazed, then with loud shouts declare. That none can match with this unrivali'd pair; No queen so fair as Almouran's fair bride. No prince so dauntless or so dignified. With salutations thus the pair they greet. As slow they pass along each crowded street ; At length before the palace gates they come. Then welcomes Almouran his Mirza home: The folding doors ope wide to let them through. Then close again to screen from public view. 74 THE LION HUNT; Almouran now to Ganiba turn'd his head, And in a confidential whisper said : " See thou that my command be strictly done, In fifty cells confine them one by one; Entrap them secretly, nor cause alarm. When thus alone, they'll do no further harm : Here, take this signet, it will give thee aid, "Where'er 'tis shown, thy mandate is obey'd ; And bring me ev'ry morn a rebel's head. That from our foes the state may soon be freed !" Thrice Gamba bow'd with reverence profound, And thrice with abject mien he kiss'd the ground. Then took the token big with awful fate. And hasten'd back to pass the palace gate. Mirza, meantime, with eye and ear intent, Caught all that pass'd, and fathom'd what it meant; She shudder'd at the thought, yet feign'd her part, Tho' these dark words had pierc'd her sick'ning heart. She seem'd to know, nor hear, nor see at all. But gazed aloft upon the palace wall; Yet in her mind she ponder'd o'er a plan. To circumvent the bloody Almouran — To set the unoffending captives free. And save them from the stroke of tyranny. Almouran then took Mirza by the hand. And led her trembling through the palace grand, Show'd her each room, with all its treasures rare : " All these, and more, I give to Mirza fair, With slaves, and eunuchs, and rich gems beside, On that blest day when Mirza is my bride. on, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 275 Meantime, fair maid, repose thee here awhile. On silken couches rest thee from thy toil • Awhile, farevvel! — yet I shall see thee soon. Clothed in thy charms, in yonder rich saloon !" Then slaves and menials round the Virgin wait, A captive queen, a prisoner now of state; From off her wearied limbs they gently loose Her desert robe, no longer now of use. Reluctantly she yields to be undrest^ And half ashamed gives up her favourite vest; With promise made it should be kept in store. Though she perhaps might never want it more. In the warm bath her slender form they lave. While rich perfumes float on the limpid wave; Where cooling fountains jet and sparkle round. And trickling murmur on the marble ground. With costly spikenard from the spicy groves. Where smiles the sun upon his orient loves, In Yemen's land, fair Mirza they anoint. To soothe each wearied limb, each stifftn'd joint To loose, and make them vigorous and free. To move at will, with ease and dignity ; While myrrh and mingled incense they prepare. To sprinkle o'er her curling ebon hair. In silken vestments Mirza they array'd, Whose elegance of form was well display'd ; Thus dizen'd out, her attitude and mien. With grace and dignity she look'd a queen. The slaves then led her thus in beauty drest. To a soft velvet couch to take her rest ; c ^ 276 THE LION HUNT ; The damask curtains round her bed they close, Then all retired, and left her to repose. As on the yielding cushions she reclined. Came thoughts and musings o'er her troubled mind ; Strange things and unaccountable had pass'd. Since she had left her desert home the last. She ponder'd o'er the strange designs of fate. That from the desert rais'd her thus to state. As the wild antelope she once was free; Now held in thrall and robb'd of liberty. Torn from her home, and dragg'd by force away. Strangers and tyrants now she must obey. She thought of these, till trembling in each eye The tears stood sparkling bright, while many a sigh Heaved from her bosom sore oppress'd by grief. Till burst the flood, and gave her soul relief. More placid then, her disemburthen'd mind Felt calmer than before, and more resign'd ; Yet still her grief she wish'd not to forget, But each remembrance cherish'd with regret. Fain would her eyes have wakeful vigils kept. Yet weariness prevaii'd, and Mirza slept; Nor slept she long, before her waking brain Brought to her view her former scenes again. She dream'd, as on her couch she sleeping lay, A monstrous Lion twice she set at bay ; She could not kill, she could not wound the brute, She dared not fly, for fear of a pursuit ; She trembling stood, and knew not what to do. When the fierce savage growling at her flew ; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 277 And with his pond'rous weight he bore her dowa When just as she was lost and overthrown. Came sudden aid from some protecting bow : An arrow sped, and laid the monster low ! Nor could she see from whence the weapon came. Or who directed its unerring- aim. With glad surprise upon her feet she rose. To see who this her kind deliverer was ; Her struggling efforts the enchantment brokd. And from her dream, and from her sleep she woke. She started from her bed with trembling fear. Yet none to harm, and none to soothe were near : She was alone, and silence slept o'er all. Save watchman's tread upon the palace wall ; And the sweet music of a fountain near. Whose bubbling strains her pensive bosom cheer. High in the sky the moon was shining fair. And balmy fragrance fill'd the midnight air; In Mirza's room her pearly beams she shed. And light effulgent quiver'd round the bed : She hail'd with joy bright Luna's placid rays. And on her orb she fix'd her ardent gaze. The night was calm, and all things slept serene. As Mirza gazed upon the tranquil scene : She thought of home, then look'd around and sigh'd. While on her lips a trembling sentence died. Her eyes then wander'd 'mid the orange grove. And as she gazed her soul was tuned to love : Sh6 heard the sighing of the fragrant breeze. At truant playing 'mid the citron trees ; s 3 278 THE LION HUNT; She watcli'd the motion of the cassias' shade. And niark'd the rippling twilight that they made Upon the velvet tufted flowery ground.^ The splashing fountain's silvery tinkling sound. Came murmuring to her ear, and soothed her soul ; Then o'er her head she watch'd bright Luna roll. She thought of home, and all that home held dear. While in her eye bright sparkling stood a tear; Then thus she made her wild impassion'd wail. As to the moon she told her plaintive tale : With low pathetic voice she sweetly sang, While silence listen'd to her midnight song ! '• Bright, beautiful, beautiful moon ! How welcome thy beams are to me ; liOng, long hast thou risen, And gazed on my prison, Now Mirza is gazing on thee ! " Thou wander'st alone. O'er the land and the sea. And sweetly thou smil'st from the sky ; While I gaze upon thee. With a tear in my eye. And my bosom is heaving with many a sigh. To think that I once was as free ! "■ Sweet, beautiful moon, dost thou smile Upon all my grief and my woe ; Spread a cloud o'er thy face for awhile. And weep for a captive below. OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 279 " Let all thy pearl tear-drops descend. And water the ground. Where sweet dates cluster round, 'Tis the spot where dwelleth nny friend ! " Weep, weep gentle moon, for my sorrow, Weep, beautiful moon, weep to-night; Then robed in fair beams more placid and bright. Thou shalt smile upon ?(^Iirza to-morrow ! " Bright, beautiful moon ! Why wanderest thou thus in the heavens alone. And sniilest so sweet from above ? Art thou seeking thy lover. Fair wandering rover ? O, no — thou wast never in love ! " Thy smiles are too cold for a lover to feel. Through his eyes to his heart they never could steal. Though his eyes thy fair charms may admire; He may gaze on thy face with delight. And rejoice in thy beautiful sight. Yet as cold as thy smile. Is his heart all the while. For thy beams cannot kindle love's fire. *' Yet beneath thy mild ray. How oft did I stray, When CafFa was close by my side; Thou hast seen us full oft, When thy beams shone so soft. 280 THE LION HUNT; Like young antelopes gambol and play ; Nor didst thou then frown, or thy brilliancy hide. At our sports and our pastimes thou never didst chide And our secrets thou ne'er didst betray ! " Sweet, beautiful moon, canst thou tell Where Caffa is wandering now ? Is he sleeping beside some clear fountain or well. And dreaming of Mirza's last vow ? f' Thy silvery beams on him shine. Thou see'st him, though I cannot see ; Say, does he beneath the sweet myrtle recline ? For the loss of his Mirza does Caffa repine? And there is he thinking of me ? " Oh, tell me, bright moon, if he's laid Beneath the soft fragrant shade Of the blooming tamarind tree ? Where he wonders why Mirza so long has delay'd; Perchance he may think I have wandering stray'd. While anxious he's waiting for me ! " Oh, has he discover'd that Mirza's betray'd. And far from her home in the desert convey'd ? Is vengeance his watchword and vow ? Oh, is he pursuing the tyrant's track. With his sword by his side, and his spear at his back ? In her cause is he bending his bow ? OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 281 '« Thou smilest, sweet moon, yet answerest naught. For thou ne'er was a captive betray'd ; Had thy charms been enthrall'd it had sympathy taught. That liberty sweet was too dear to be bought j And thou mightest have wept. As thy vigils thou kept. O'er the palace that prison'd the maid ! " Oh, had I the wings of a dove. Or the speed of the nimble gazelle. This moment would Mirza be free ; I would fly with the swiftness of light to my love, I would fly, my dear Caffa, to thee ! And then as we sat by the cool fountain well, 'Neath the bright yellow blossoming tree. As list'ning with wonder my Cafla I'd tell All the things unaccountable, strange, that befel. All the things that had happen'd to me I" She ceased her song, and laid her down again ; She strove to sleep, but closed her eyes in vain : Upon her couch she restless, wearied, lay. Till the faint twilight woke the rising day. Then rose the sun, and chased the shades of night. And clothed anew the smiling world with light ! Now menial slaves with rich perfumes attend, And unsolicited their aid they lend. To dress in richer robes their captive Queen, That by Prince Almouran she might be seen. 282 THE LION HUNT; In all her charms adorn'd and full display'd. Where Barbary's Queen outshines the desert maid ! With half reluctant, half consenting grace, While frowns and smiles obscure and light her face. They decorate her with each splendid vest. That pomp might render vain : when fully drest. Herself without one particle of pride. She unadmiring view'd from side to side. She felt uneasy in her state array. Her limbs confined, could not with freedom play ; The irksome burthen of superfluous dress Was hard to bear, and Mirza wish'd it less : All unadorn'd her own wild desert vest. She thought, and truly thought, became her best. She now was led, the envy of all eyes. Like some tame lamb adorn'd for sacrifice. Through rooms of state with marble corridor. And floors of jasper, to a cedar door; Where two black eunuchs bar all further way. With swords unsheath'd, fix'd guardians night and day ! With deep-toned voice the watchword they demand. Then cross their blades, and bid th' intruders stand. Mirza, affrighted, turnM away her head. And to her chamber back had swiftly fled ; But her attendants held her by the arm. And soothed her fear, and still'd her wild alarm : Then to the eunuchs the King's signet show'd ; Down dropt their swords, and low they kneeling bow'd. The prostrate guards they quick with Mirza pass'd. And gain'd the door, yet found it bolted fast : on, THE DRIDE OF THE DESERT. 283 " Mohammed reigns !" th' attendants whisper'd shrill; A whisper answer'd, " And for ever will !" Then oped the door, as if by magic, wide, And through its arch the trembling Mirza guide. Now introduced within the splendid room. Spacious and wide, with lofty pillar'd dome, Around her Mirza gazed with wild surprise. While lively wonder sparkled in her eyes. With cushions rich, and costly carpets spread. Upon whose flowers a sacrilege to tread It seem'd, — while curtains with luxuriant fold Of purple silk, round jasper columns roU'd, With flutings rare, and capitals of gold ! While polish'd mirrors hung around each wall. That with refulgent splendour bright reflected all ! When Mirza's first astonishment was o'er. At the wide dome and variegated floor. And those bright mirrors that reflected wide Her lovely image back from side to side ; They seat her on a couch and leave her there. Then all depart, and quickly disappear. She gazed around, and wonder'd what it meant. Recumbent there she waited the event ; Nor silent waited long alone, before Almouran enter'd by a secret door. Dress'd in his robes of state he smiling came. While Mirza view'd him with a blush of shame, And rose at his approach to go away, When Almouran : " Fair Mirza, pray thee stay. For much to thee, my love, have I to say \" 284 THE LION HUNT; Erect she stood, and waited his approach. With firm resolve to check his bold encroach : He forward came, and strove to take her hand — She backward stept, and bade him keep his stand ; And if some secret he had for her ear. To tell it where he stood, nor come too near. Confounded at her words and aspect bold, His eyes with wild and wildering passions roll'd : 'Twixt love and rage his pride contended long, Yet love o'ercame, and curb'd his passions strong ; At once was alter'd the proud tyrant's mood. And with a serpent's tongue, thus guilefully he sued " O, lovely maid ! beloved, adored, divine ! When, beauteous Mirza, shall I call thee mine ? When shall that happiest of all days come round. When free-born Mirza in love's chain is bound ? That day of joy and gratifying pride. When Mirza yields to be Almouran's bride? Say, shall to-morrow be the day, loved maid ? For bliss like this should not be long delay'd !" Then Mirza, interrupting, thus began ; "What! Mirza be the bride of Almouran ! The bride of him who stole her from her home. And keeps her here confined, a pris'ner's doom ! Of him, whose heart is cruel, cold, and hard. Deceitful, treacherous, — without regard For others' wrongs,— who reckless spills the blood Of guiltless men, when pity should be show'd ! To be the bride of such an one as this. Would grief and sorrow bring instead of bliss : OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 285 I'd sooner wed the tiger with his fangs, Thau live to bear the keen and torturing pangs That jealous pride and tyranny would bring, With their fierce, poisonous, destroying sting ! Then how can Mirza cherish in her breast. The deadly foe that robb'd her of her rest ? What would Almouran say, should Mirza prove To hate the tyrant whom she's urged to love ?" The Prince, struck dumb at Mirza's bold address. In vain sought words his feelings to express : His Moorish blood was boiling in his veins. While all his passions stretch'd their curbing reins ! His eyes glanced lightning from their lashes dark. And all seem'd ready for th' igniting spark ; 'Twixt love and vengeance now the balance hung In equipoise so nice, that had her tongue Sent forth another waft of angry breath. The scale had moved aloft, the signal of her death ! With iron grasp he clench'd his two-edged sword. Half drew the blade, yet utter'd not a word : He struggled hard to keep his fury down. His brightest smile could hardly hide the frown That darkly threaten'd on his gloomy brow! She saw the rising storm — to calm it now. She tried successfully her female part. And soon she won his proud unbending heart ! AVith words as soothing as the Gilead's balm. She wound around his soul with flattery's charm. The glittering blade was sheath'd with sudden clank. Deep in her heart its awful clatter sank : 286 THE LION HUNT; She soon o'ercame the startling surprise, While seeming joy bright sparkled in her eyes; She nearer stepp'd to Alniouran, and said. While sunny smiles o'er all her features spread : " The Queen of Barbary ! the Sultan's wife !" — (" A captive Queen imprison'd here for life," She whisper'd to herself inaudibly) — " No, no — Almouran — Prince, it cannot be ! Such honour rare she cannot dare to hope. Who hunts the lion and the antelope; The herding buflfalo and wild gazelle. Through desert, forest, jungle, wood, and fell. Seek then some fairer maid of princely race. Thy throne and kingdom with her smiles to grace; Let the poor^ simple, captive desert maid, 13e to her dreary deserts back convey'd: There let her hunt the lion for her sport, [court!" While some more noble Queen gives splendour to thy She ceased, and look'd with love-enchanting eyes At Almouran, who joyful thus replies. While with fond rapture he embraced her hand : " Our kingdom's at thy will — thou may'st command Where'er thou wilt, and all shall be obey'd. Save only this, fair Mirza, lovely maid : How can we banish thy loved presence from our sight. Whose beauty gives such pleasure and delight? No, Mirza, no — I cannot yield to this. To rob myself of such enchanting bliss. We must not, Mirza — must not — cannot part — Thine 1 must win, or thou must break my heart; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 287 Let love constrain thee, Mirza, to consent — Speak but one word, and Almouran's content! If love's a stranger to thy youthful soul. And thou hast never felt its strong control. Sure pomp and power will wake ambition's pride. And tempt thee to become the Sultan's bride : Methinks I see love kindling in thine eyes — Fair Mirza yields— Almouran's gain'd his prize !" Then thus the Prince his guileful joy exprcss'd : " Blest be the day that makes Almouran blest : Then when shall come this bliss, fair Mirza, say- To-morrow ? Let to-morrow be our nuptial day !" With downcast eyes, and blushing, Mirza stood. Trembling, confused, to be so kindly woo'd ; She answer'd naught, while he embraced her hand : What maid could long such ardent love withstand P She saw it was her int'rest to consent — 'Twas gaining time by risking the event. Things possible and probable she calmly weigh'd, Then, smiling, thus to Almouran replied : " I cannot all at once become a Queen, Nor all at once forget my desert mien ; Then give me time for such a change, I pray. And, Almouran, let Mirza fix the day : The day that thou hast named supremely blest. That Mirza waits for with an anxious breast. Then let me charge thee not to woo again. Nor more intrude, for all will be in vain; Till the round moon her changing course has run. And shows her crescent to the setting sun ! 288 THE LION HUNT; No Other favour Mirza asks than this. Till comes the day that brings Almouran bliss : No more her presence here dost thou require ; Then, Almouran, let Mirza now retire \" She ceased to speak, and moved towards the door ; The Prince with nimble step obtrudes before. And takes her hand ; while with a winning smile. Said " Mirza, thou art prisoner here awhile : Yet hear me speak, fair maid, nor take offenc6 — Forth from this room no more thou goest hence; In peace and comfort here thou mayst abide. For it is thine, and all thou seest beside. Here slaves and virgins on thee shall attend. And each and all their joint assistance lend ; 'Tis thine to ask, and theirs it is to grant Thy ev'ry wish, and satisfy each want I Then stay thee here, fair Queen — 1 call thee so — 'Tis banish'd Almouran that hence must go. And leave his Mirza here in peace behind ; Yet her loved image dwells within his mind. And shall for ever dwell, — nor e'er can fade The deep, indelible impression made. Mirza, farewell, until that far-off day. For which Almouran fervently will pray ; Yet should'st thou wish to see me sooner, send — And prompt at thy command will I attend. Farewell — Almouran goes to banishment. Yet that is sweet if Mirza be content I" He ceased, yet mutter'd low as he withdrew, " I now must see if Gamba serves me true." OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 289 Then silently behind the curtain screen He stepp'd, by Mirza as he thought unseen ; Her back was turn'd, yet in the glass she view'd His form, which eagerly her eyes pursued. Until she saw him touch some secret spring : A door flew open, and he enter'd in. Her eyes she fix'd upon the spot intent. And long'd to know, and wonder'd where he went: She gazed not long on the reflected place. Ere Almouran return'd with smiling face; He look'd around him cautiously, to see That none intruded on his privacy ; Then softly shut the door — with stealthy pace And noiseless step, he silent left the place. When he was gone, and Mirza left alone. Thus to herself, with wild impassion'd tone. She converse held : " The tyrant's gone at last. And here a prisoner he has shut me fast; Yet 'tis some comfort in captivity. To know that from his presence 1 am free Awhile, though short; which time if managed right. May gain my freedom and assist my flight ! O, Cafl^a, wert thou here to take my part, 'Twould raise my courage, cheer my drooping heart; My feeble nerves with tenfold vigour brace. And fire my soul to dare him to his face ! But CafFa knows not I am prison'd here. In vain he seeks me through the desert drear; He thinks me slain by some fell beast of prey. And mourns my fate as he pursues his way. T 290 THE LION HUNT; No aid, no succour from tliy distant friends — Then, Mirza, all upon thyself depends : Thy ev'ry energy must be awake. For honour, life, and liberty's at stake ! With desp'rate daring nobly o'ercome all. Or in the conflict resolutely fall! It must be so — I am resolved to die. Or win with life a life of liberty !" She ceased to speak — her agitated frame The firm resolves of her fix'd soul o'ercame : She wept, for woe and grief her mind oppress'd. While down she sate upon a couch to rest. Her eyes she fix'd upon the silken floor, Then raised them slowly to the cedar door : Past recollections now came o'er her mind. And round the room she gazed, intent to find The secret door where enter'd Almouran ; She wiped her eyes, her search she then began. She look'd around to see that none were there. Then lightly stept, 'twixt trembling hope and fear. Toward the place where hung the damask screen. Curious to see, yet fearful to be seen. Nor could she tell why thus she wish'd to see. What from her sight was hid in mystery : Yet prying instinct could not live in doubt. While female nature wish'd to find it out. She search'd around, yet nothing could she find. She wiped her eyes, she thought with weeping blind; Yet all in vain her search^ for nothing there Like to a door or doorway did appear. on, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 291 Impatient grown, she would have left the place. Yet ere she went, her busy fingers trace Along the wall, to find the mystery That her quick glancing eyes could never see. As o'er the gilded wall they wander'd round. They made in one small spot a hollow sound. Unlike the rest — her nimble fingers tapp'd Upon the place, yet long in vain they rapp'd : At Jast they touch'd the hidden, viewless spring, And open burst a door with sudden swing. She trembled at her too successful deed — Should she retreat, or should she still proceed ? She paused to ask : the secret to its core She was resolved to probe, and through the door She softly stole; her heart misgave her then. Yet still she further slowly ventured in. She sudden stopp'd,— she thought she heard a treadj And she was fiU'd with apprehensive dread ; She listen'd long, yet ev'ry sound was still. She nothing saw or heard, to bode her good or ill. The door she pass'd, and enter'd a small room. Yet started back, with terror overcome; Before her on a marble block was laid The ghastly visage of a bleeding head : All drench'd in gore its clotted, tangled hair ; While two glazed eyes upon her seem'd to stare. With horrible, death- stricken, sightless glare ! Struck by the sudden and appalling sight. She trembling stood, and motionless with fright; T 2 292 THE LION HUNT; She would liave call'd for help, yet prudence stepf To counsel her, and Mirza silence kept. Then to lier aid soon resolution came. And rising" courage all her fears o'ercame ; Now boldly in she ventured without dread. And stood beside the cold and livid head. She view'd with eager eye its features o'er : " ^Tis the dark visage of some guiltless Moor," She whisp'ring said, " whose only crime has been. To hunt the Lion 'mid the desert scene. And leave his guarded, trembling pris'ner free. To make escape, and gain her liberty. Bold was the effort made, yet all in vain — Mirza's a prisoner still, and must remain. While for that deed this guiltless Moor was slain; And fifty more await their awful doom — Full fifty executions yet to come. As horrible as this ! It must not be — Let captive Mirza set the prisoners free !" She paused to think what best she might design. When on the stone she saw a diamond shine ; Beside the bloody head it sparkled bright: Attracted by its pure and brilliant light. She took it up — it was the sapphire ring. The signet token of the tyrant king! She knew its virtue, for she'd seen its power — Before it fell the guardians of the door ; And Gamba, when the ring Almouran show'd. Fell prostrate at his feet, and lowly bow'd. OR. THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 293 Then this must be the potent charm, the key T' unlock the bars, and set the captives free. She placed upon her hand the glitt'ring- gem. More precious than a sparkling diadem; And as she view'd its bright pellucid rays. She seem'd delighted with its twinkling blaze. While thus employ'd in such a dang'rous place, With smiles and blushes mantling o'er her face. She heard, or thought she heard, three gentle knocks. That struck her nerves like pealing thunder-shocks. She sudden started from her placid mood. While all her face seem'd crimson'd o'er with blood; Fear bid her fly, yet courage whisper'd " stay. And boldly wait, nor shrink abash'd away," She listen'd then on tiptoe as she stood, Nor sounds nor sight or eye or ear intrude; Nor knew she why so long she linger'd there, With nothing more to hope for or to fear : She now had seen and learnt enough to prove How fierce Almouran's hate, how savage was his love. The fatal signet on her finger beam'd — Death's sightless eyeballs cold and icy gleam'd ; She gazed on each by turns, then whisper'd thus : '' These two shall now be mine — they'll be of use; I must remove them hence — these trophies dread — This sparkling ring, and this dark ghastly head !" She fix'd her fingers 'mid the tangled hair. The gory head along with her to bear ; The gristly scalp she lifted from the block. When suddenly she heard another knock — t3 294 HE LION HUNT; And then she heard the whisp'ring watchword given : "Where does Mohammed reign?" "In earth and heaven !" Mirza replied, not knowing what she said. While on the block dropt down the bloody head. Instinctively she guess'd the answer true — Another secret door wide open flew. And Gamba sudden stood confronted to her view ! Each gazed on each with motionless surprise. And on the other fix'd their keen enquiring eyes ; Then both oxclaim'd, "What Mirza !" "Gamba here!" Hope prompted one, and one pale trembling fear. Mirza observed how Gamba trembling stood. And smiled with joy to see his timid mood : She then assumed a bold, commanding air. And deeper still impress'd the slave with fear: " Vile slave," she said, " long have I waiting staid Thy lingering coming, thus so long delay'd ? Where hast thou been, and what thy errand now. That my commands must be obey'd so slow ? Had Almouian, instead of Mirza, seen Thy negligence in waiting on his Queen, His wrath had seal'd thy fate — thy guilty head. Like a vile traitor's, on this block had bled !" Then Mirza paused and waited his reply, While Gamba trembling with a downcast eye : " Fair Queen, I knew not thou wert waiting here. For none to Gamba did such message bear; Had I been warn'd by word, or look, or sign. And not obey'd, the crime had then been mine ; OR. THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 295 But 'twas not so — then, beauteous Miiza, say, What is thy will, and Gamba must obey." " Whose head is this ?" then Mirza sternly ask'd : Gamba, alarm'd to be so strictly task'd. Trembled with dread, and thought he was betray'd. When Mirza smiled, nor bid him be afraid. But answer promptly and without disguise. For death, she said, was the reward of lies. He hesitated still, nor would he tell : The ring she show'd, when down he kneeling fell. And mercy begg'd ; then told her all he knew. And swore by Alia that each word was true. She readily believed what he had said, — Then, sternly pointing to the bleeding head: " This ghastly visage crown'd with clotted hair. And those dead eyes how horrible they stare ! Thou lov'st a sight like this, then feast thine eyes, — 'Twas thy own deed — nay, feign no more surprise; Familiar thou art grown with scenes of blood. For on thy brow is stamp'd the murd'rer's hardihood !" " Fair Queen ! thou judgest right — mine was the deed ; And yet thou judgest wrong — my heart doth bleed. Whene'er I shed the blood of one condemn'd ; Yet Gamba must obey , though for the deed he's blam'd." " If Almouran command, thou must obey. And take, if so he wills, a life away ; Were it thy brother's or thy father's life. They both must fall by thy red murd'ring knife. 296 THE LION HUNT; And if again he change his princely will. And by his Queen command thee not to kill,; Dare not to whet thy blade, nor bend thy bow. To spill the blood of his most deadly foe. Such are the laws that Alinouran hath made For slaves like thee, and they must be obey'd. ^Tis Mirza's wish, 'tis Almouran's decree. That thou should'st set the guiltless pris'ners free. Blood thou hast spilt — no more art thou to spill — Then haste thee hence, and our commands fulfil ; Release the prisoners from their bondage thrall. And send them forth to guard the city wall : Half guard the north, and half the southern gate. Lest secret foes by night invade the state. Here, take this ring — then bring it back to me, And tell the captives Mirza set them free; See that thou fail not aught that I have said. Or thine, like this, shall be a gory head !" She ceased to speak, and Gamba then withdrew ; The head she took, and hid it safe from view ; Then shut the door, and to her hall retir'd. With rapture fili'd, her joyful soul was fired. To think that such a happy time had come. To save the captives from their fearful doom. She waited long, 'twixt anxious hope and fear. And wish'd that Gamba would once more appear. At last he came, and bow'd before the Queen, With slavish fear, and low, obsequious mien ; " Hast thou released the prisoners, cringing slave ?" Gamba replied, " Most nobFe Queen ! I have : OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 29/ Freed from their dungeons, dismal, noisome, deep ; Around the city walls the watch they keep." " Well, Gamba, hast thou acted all thy part. And thy prompt faithfulness has won my heart; Here, take this ring, and give me back my own : Now leave me, Gamba — I would be alone." Gamba retired, delighted with his toy. While Mirza's heart danced with excessive joy ; Her soul o'erflow'd to know that they were free: To rest she then retired, and dreamt of liberty ! Next morn she took the gristly head alone. And laid it on the cold white marble stone; Close by its side the signet gem she laid, And left them there — the ring, the lifeless head. Almouran enter'd at his usual hour, And o'er the trophy his dark brows would lower; While from his eyes the glancing lightning broke. That fell, malignant satisfaction spoke. He gazed his fill upon what he believed Another victim, yet he was deceived. " The faithful Gamba serves me ever true !" He smiling said, then silently withdrew. And thus in secret Mirza day by day Replaced the head, then put it safe away. Thus ev'ry mora the tyrant was betray'd. By the inventions of the desert maid. Who saved the heads of all by onedoom'd victim's head. 298 THE LION HUNT; PART FOURTH. 'J'he moon had set behind the western tower. And o'er the sky had roU'd the midnight hour. When fifty troopers thunder'd at the gate. With clamours loud, impatient there to waitj Rousing the guards along the rampart wall. Demanding entrance with incessant call. Each watching sentinel the call attends, [friends I" With " Who comes here ?" " Fear not, for we are " No friends are ye, to come at such a time, But robbers leagued for rapine, blood, and crime." " No foes are we, but soldiers from the war. Then ope your gates, for we have travell'd far." " The city sleeps, and we its guardians keep Awake, to watch it in its hours of sleep ; While it is hush'd in peace and soft repose. We keep and shield it from its secret foes." "We come on urgent business of the state." " Ye come suspiciously, to come so late." " That we are friends, what proof do ye require ?" "No other proof than that ye all retire. Till o'er the hills the morning sun has rose, Then shall we know if ye be friends or foes." " We go not hence, nor long shall here remain- By fair or foul we must an entrance gain." " Audacious robbers ! are ye then so bold. Like panthers fierce to break the guarded fold ? OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 299 Tempt not too far the vengeance of your fate. But speed ye hence before it be too late j Or, if ye will, abide the rising storm, That on your heads will burst, if we the troops alarm." " Your threats are all in vain, we go not hence. But through must pass, in spite of all pretence." " Soldiers, awake ! there's treason at the gate, A hostile force by night invades the state." The bustling troops, in broken file and rank, Promiscuous meet ; while their war-trappings' clank. In loud disorder through the breezeless night, Th' invaders heard. " We come not here to fight !" The chieftain of the band then loudly calls. To all the watchmen station'd on the walls : " We come not here to break your country's laws. Yet should that be, yourselves will be the cause j And long and deeply shall ye then repent The bloody strife that ye may now prevent. We're no banditti, and no foes are we. But come from Fezzan on an embassy ; And costly presents for the Queen we bear. To win her grace when we at court appear." " Thy wily speech hath fiU'd us all with doubt; Stand from the gate, the troops are coming out. Thou faithless Arab ! soon shall we behold. If all thy vaunt and boastings good will hold. When gleaming swords are clashing o'er thy head. And half thy clan lie strewn around thee dead." <' We come in peace ! then open not your gate. To let your fiery troops embroil the state. 300 THE LION HUNT; We fear them not, for we can fight, and dare ; Yet must not now, for we have other care. Thus far at least, believe md for a friend. And by some trusty slave this message send ; And tell the Queen that we^ her slaves, await With costly presents, by the southern gate: From Mazalig we come, a dreary way. And herfe without the gate obliged to stay ; This message promptly bear — no more delays. Or ere the morning shines your city bright shall blaze I" " Thy speech is bold, yet it shall be obey'd. And to the Queen thy message safe convey'd." Then Gamba, who, alarm'd, had thither sped. The marshall'd troops against the foe to lead, Return'd, and bore the message to the Queen, And what he'd heard he told, and what he'd seen. She listen'd long as Gamba told his tale, [pale ; She smiled, grew sad, then blush'd, and then turn'd She made him then repeat his story o'er. Then bid him go, and wait beside the door. Thus left alone, she mused what she might do. If Gamba's story he had told was true ; And true it must be — he could not invent A tale like that — that he might circumvent Her in some desp'rate plot against the state; Then doom her still to some more cruel fate. No, no — it could not be — and yet 'twas strange. For o'er her soul had come a sudden change : " If it be Caffa ! O, if it be he ! Then, Mirza, then how soon thou wilt be free ! OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 301 I dare not hope — I dare not think it is — I dare not grasp at such a shadowy bliss j For should I build ray hopes upon the air. They'd vanish all, and leave me in despair. It is not Caffa — 'tis some lurking foe. That comes by night, the tyrant to o'erthrow ; Well, let him come, and let the tyrant bleed — In the fierce conflict Mirza may be freed ! Will Mirza then the state and king betray ? The bloody sword to slaughter shew the way ? And lead the rebels to the richest spoil. And with them share the trophies of their toil ? No — Mirza cannot stoop to means so foul. To blot the honour of her spotless soul \" She paused, then drew her fingers through her hair. While on her brow dwelt deep and anxious care; " 'Tis strange they come at such a time as this — No foes are they — it must be Caffa — yes. He's chose the night to hide his true design; Then, Mirza, with like caution too hide thine. Ah me ! to be thus rack'd 'twixt hope and fear. To think that he may be, or not be there ! What must I do ? how act.? I cannot tell — Here, Gamba, didst thou mark the strangers well ? How look'd the troopers, and how look'd their chief.? Did he seem like a robber and a thief? Or did he bear him with a noble mien ?" " As much, fair Mirza, as he could be seen Amid the gloom, a Prince he seem'd to be. Of stature tall, and warlike symmetry !" 302 THE LION HUNT ; " It must be Caffa !" Mirza whisper'd low : " What were his arms ?" " A sabre, spear, and bow.'' " Whence came they,Gamba ? d idst thou hear him say ?" " From Mazalig, a dismal, dreary way." " From Mazalig ! from Maz ah, say'st thou so ? Then haste thee, Gamba— take this ring, and go ; Command the gates to be wide open thrown, And give the troops admittance to the town : Yet keep them at a distance far from hence. Approach not near, or death must pay th' ofTence. See they be lodg'd with safety and with care j To-morrow hither bid their chief repair. Now, Gamba, speed thee hence ; yet stay thee here ; 'Twere well that thou unto the chief did bear Some message from the Queen : she greets him well. Who once reposed beside Mazalig's well. Then mayst thou add, as from thyself, and say. That in this country 'tis the usual way. That strangers to the Queen some token send. To show they come in peace, and as a friend ; Now go, and lead the troopers through the gate. Then quick return, for I thy coming wait." Gamba dismiss'd, then Mirza thoughtful grew. She hoped, she wish'd, yet doubted all was true ; She reason'd with herself: " How can it be ? Should it be CafFa, can he set me free. Surrounded as I am by walls and slaves. And watch'd by Almouran ? He danger braves. Who dares intrude within this prison wall, Where treasons, daggers, poisons, work his fall. OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 303 Vain the attempt to enter here unseen. And vainer still to steal the captive Queen ! O, CafFa, CafFa ! come not near this place. Where death awaits, or slavery's foul disgrace; Content will Mirza live and die a slave : Free as llie wind, and as the Lion brave, Be Caffa still ; but risk not with the foe Fierce conflict here, so sure of overthrow. Such fearful odds what valour can withstand ? A nation leagued against thy little band ! The thought distracts me : should'st thou be o'ercome. What tongue can tell the horrors of thy doom ?" Struck dumb with terror at her own surmise. Upon the glass she cast her weeping eyes. All dim with watery, unavailing tears; She saw her woful look, she check'd her fears. And rising courage call'd up rising pride. " Can this," said she, " can this be CafFa's bride i* Shame on these foolish tears ! had CafFa seen Me weep, no bride of his, the tyrant's Queen, His captive, slave-bound Queen I had been deem'd — And so, methinks, a moment since I seem'd : But now my soul exerts its rising power. While pants my heart for freedom's happy hour. O, CafFa, CafFa ! come to Mirza's aid. Nor of the tyrant's slaves be thou afraid ; But come, my CafFa, and set Mirza free. Then to the desert wilds with him she'll flee. Where love delights to dwell, where dwells sweet liberty !" 304 THE LION HUNT; She paused to think upon her dubious fate. When Ganiba enter'd with his heart elate : " He must be some great king," he utter'd loud ; The Queen he saw, then all abash'd he bow'd, And wish'd he had not spoke, or she not heard; Yet all in vain — she caught his ev'ry word. " What, Gamba here ! then give me back my ring — And dost thou think their captain is a king ?" '' A king he seems to be, most lovely Queen." " What makes him seem a king ?" " His noble mien." " If that be all, a slave a king might be." " That was not all — so generous and free. So kind, so liberal, and so dignified ; So modest, too, he seem'd, and free from pride. To serve a prince like him I should be proud. If I to Almouran no allegiance owed." " And told he not his kingdom and his name. His business here, and from what part he came ? And ask'd he nothing of the King or Queen, And when, and where, and how they might be s6en ?" " He told me not — of thee he little said. Yet ask'd if thou to Almouran wert wed." <* If I to Almouran ! — ah, did he so -* What answer'd thou to that ?" " I answer'd no ! He smiled, and cheerful look'd at what I said; But then he frown'd, look'd fierce, and shook his head. When I inform'd him thou wouldst be his bride. When shone the crescent moon in beauty's pride !" "-How didst thou dare the prince thus to offend ?" "Nay, censure not — no ill did I intend; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 305 Nor should have spoke of such a sacred thing, Had he not ask'd, has Mirza wed the King ?" " Well, let that pass — what presents did he give ? So gen'rous, liberal, didst thou naught receive ? No token from his hand ?" " He gave me gold. Fair Queen, and promised more." " And art thou sold. Base slave, for baser coin ? What, naught beside ? No pledge?" "Give this," said he, "Almouran's bride j And sent a golden bracelet for thy arm. Wrapt and enfolded in a sacred charm." " Where is the token ? let me see it — where ?" *"Tis here, fair Queen," said Gamba trembling, "here." She took it from his hand with eager haste, And from its charm-bound covering soon uncased The gift; then gazed upon it for awhile. While on her cheek dwelt satisfaction's smile. " Gamba," said she, " thou now had best retire. Till I again thy further aid require." Once more alone, her arm she now unbared. And with her own the bracelet she compared ; Much was she struck to tind them correspond. The clasp the same, the same th' embossment round j Her other arm she bared to try it on. Amazed, she saw from thence her own was gone ; Then recollection darted o'er her mind — When home she left, one had she left behind. That she might firmer, truer grasp her bow. She miss'd it not, nor knew her loss till now ; 306 THE LION HUNT; Nor knew till now how near she was to bliss. As she exclaim'd, " Has Caffa sent me this ? It must be Caffa's gift — it is, it is !" She spoke no more — excessive joy o'ercame Her soul — she lay entranced — while Cafl'a's name In whispering murmurs trembled on her tongue. As his fond vision hovering o'er her hung. Wrapt in its charms insensible she lay, [day. Till waken'd from her dreams by the bright op'ning At early morn, clothed in his robes of slate. Surrounded by his slaves, Almouran sat« Enthroned, his kingly audience to give To tributary states, and gifts receive. Each, bowing, paid his tribute gifts and pass'd : CafFamba came, and offer'd his the last. A lion's skin was o'er his shoulders flung. And like a mantle round him floating hung; A high and feathery plume rose o'er his head. Of varied dies, and round his temples spread. Behind his back, in many a feathery row. The quiver'd arrows swung ; upon his bow His arms he rests with ease and dignity, [eye. While round him glanced his quick, bright, piercing He paid no homage, bowing like the rest. But upright stood, and thus the king address'd : " Most potent sovereign, ruler of all states ! A subject prince before thy presence waits : One ever faithful unto thy commands — To crave a favour at thy royal hands. OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 307 CafFamba is my name : our father dead, His Queen, Nigara, ruleth in his stead : A neighbouring prince the provinces doth claim. And as a warrant adds thy royal name. To aid his deep designs : our Queen, alarm'd At his invasions bold, the troopers arm'd. His inroads to repel; and me she sent Her cause to plead, O King, that thou prevent — If such be now thy gracious, royal will — This fierce, ambitious prince from doing further ill. And furthermore, she heard thou hast a Queen, Than whom more beautiful was never seen — A desert Virgin, cradled in the wild. Nature's fair offspring, and her darling child. She heard with joy thy fortunate success. And sends her wishes for thy happiness : And further still, thy Queen, our mother sends These token pledges that they may be friends : Six Indian shawls enwove with rare designs. These brilliant gems from Allahabad's mines ; With incense rich from Araby the blest. Cassia and myrrh, the freshest and the best : Yet more than all, our Queen has sent her this. And prays thy Queen to take it not amiss — A coronet it is of ostrich plumes, Steep'd and embalm'd in mingled sweet perfumes; With golden bands and rich embossments bound, And clustering diamonds sparkling bright around. Long may she live to wear this plumy crown. Which fond remembrance soon will call her own. u2 308 THE LION HUNT; And now Alinouran, Prince, and mighty King, To thee the tribute of our state I bring. In polish'd ivory, gum, and dust of gold. And leopard skins to deck thy chargers bold ; And for thyself our mother bade us bear This polish'd dagger with especial care. Receive, O Prince, the tribute that we pay. Nor turn our gifts neglectfully away." He ceased to speak, then took the offerings meet. And laid the presents at Almouran's feet. Pleased with the youth who flatter'd thus his pride. He eyed the giver, then the gifts he eyed AVith stern complacency — then thus began : "The favour thou hast gain'd of Almouran. We grant thee thy request, thy gifts receive. And for thy mother's wrongs, for thine we grieve; Our vengeance is aroused, and doth await The base invaders of thy loyal state. [moon." When goest thou hence ?" " When shines the crescent " Thy stay is short, methinks thou goest too soon." " 1 may not linger. Prince; I must away. And to the Queen the joyful news convey, How kind thou wert to her unworthy child." " Do as thou wilt," said Almouran, and smiled, [been ? " Here, Gamba," said the Prince, " where hast thou Take up these toys, and give them to the Queen." Gamba obey'd : he took the gifts, and went, AVith joyous mind, the treasures to present. In thoughtful musings Mirza lonely sate. When Gamba enter'd with his heart elate ; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 309 With humble mien before the Queen he bow'd. Then ev'ry gift officiously he show'd. She gazed upon them with a listless eye. Then turn'd her head, and bade him put them by ; With vagrant look she gazed around the room. And caught the waving of the ostrich plume ; She started up, while animation fired Her eyes, her soul, and all her frame inspired. " O Gamba, Gamba ! what is that I see ? Whence brought thou that ? here, bring it back to me." She ran to meet him ere he could obey, And quickly snatch'd it from his hands away ; She view'd it o'er, then placed it on her head. And from him turn'd with proud, majestic tread. " Gamba !" said she, " bid Almouran come here; And do thou this unto the stranger bear : 'Tis Mirza's gift, it is a holy charm, To cheer his soul, and shield him from all harm." He took the gift enwrapp'd in silken fold. And went his way. Then Mirza, uncontroll'd. Gave all her feelings vent : " O, Caffa, dear ! Now does thy Mirza know that thou art here : This token clears my doubts ! 'tis Caffa's gift, 'Tis CafFa's gift twice o'er ! This plume I left At home with him, on that unlucky day. When Fez's tyrant seized me as his prey ! He brought it me from great Timbuctoo's mart. And placed it on my head when he had won my heart ; And now again when I am far away. Has he restored it on this happy day. u3 310 THE LION HUNT; O, Caffa, Caffa ! how shall Mirza prove How firm to thee this gift has bound her love ? But words are vain when there is none to hear ; 'Tis deeds alone can make that love appear. Through dangers, toils, thou com'st to set her free. Then let her prove that she is worthy thee : This pledge of love I place in safety by, Secure from Almouran's suspicious eye. But hush ! the tyrant comes — I now must weep. His sleeping sympathies to wake, and keep His jealousies asleep ; I now must feign, And say the things to do I never mean. I now must plot, his plotting to o'erthrow : The bow is braced — to bend or break it now, ^Tis Almouran's or mine; then, Mirza, fear The tyrant not, for Caffa's aid is near \" She ceased to speak, and dropt upon her seat. In graceful negligence the Prince to meet; Almouran came, and stood before the maid. He gazed upon her, and kind words he said : She look'd not up, nor to his words replied. But hid her face beneath her veil, and sigh'd. <* Why weeps my Mirza ? wherefore thus opprest ?" " Thou art the cause," she sobb'd, " and know'st the best." " I am the cause ! fair Mirza, say not so : How can I be the cause of all thy woe ? Have 1 e'er aught to thee, fair maid denied ? Have I not woo'd thee long to be my bride ? OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 31 1 Didst thou not promise on thy own behest. When shone the crescent inoon, to make me blest? Methinks it wanes so slow 'twill never wane; AA'^onld it were gone, that it might wax again ! AVould that the crescent moon would brightly shine. Then, lovely Mirza, shall I call thee mine !" " Never V said Mirza, " by this bleeding arm. Till thou thy perjured promises perform." " What promises perform ? Ah ! dost thou bleed ? What traitor villain dared commit this deed ? She faints ! she falls ! she droops her lovely head ! O Mirza, Mirza ! speak ! And is she dead ? Alia forbid I Slaves I traitors! murderers! all — O Gamba ! Hassan ! Muley ! hear me call — The Queen is slain ! the bloody traitor fled ! Pursue, pursue ! and bring me back his head ! O Mirza, Mirza ! save her, save her ! save — Or lay me with her in the dark, cold grave. Haste, villains, slaves ! the stranger Prince bring here. Quick bid him come, for he has naught to fear : From him, perhaps, we may obtain some aid. Or his advice, to save the dying maid. He may have balm and balsams to restore The bleeding wounds, that they will bleed no more!" Thus raved the Prince, and thus at random spoke. Like some wild maniac from his fetters broke; In fitful starts he hurried to and fro. Not knowing what he did, nor what to do. Then down he sate, and took the maiden's head. And on his breast the drooping burthen laid ; 312 THE LION HUNT; Then gaztd he on her, as in wild alarm He saw the torrent gushing from her arm : While all the slaves that crowded round them there Were mute with awe, and motionless with lear. Caffamba enter'd 'mid this scene of woe ; The cause he guess'd — the purple current's flow From Mirza's arm he saw — he forward stept. To stanch the blood, while Mirza senseless slept. Down on his knees he fell, he took her hand. And bound it gently with a silken band ; Then from his bosom drew a lock of hair. In circles round her arm he tied it there j Then sprinkled crystal waters o'er her face. And bid the slaves strew perfumes round the place. Almouran on him fix'd his ardent gaze, His looks grew fierce, his eyes with wild amaze Flash'd fire, till sudden recollection came ; His rising frenzy harmless wax'd, and tame. "O Prince!" said he, " if thou the Queen restore. Far greater shalt thou be than heretofore ; King shalt thou be of that invader's throna. Whose proud ambition would have thine o'erthrown. For twice five years no tribute shalt thon pay, Save an acknowledgment upon that day When other states their custom'd tribute send ; Believe me. Prince — Almouran is thy friend." " O Prince !" Caffamba said, " O mighty King ! How great a favour for a little thing Dost thou bestow, nor can I e'er repay The friendship thou hast shown to me this day ; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 313 'Tis more than I deserve, or dare accept ; But see — the Queen awakes — sound has she slept ; This bleeding arm will doubtless do her good. And freer now will circulate her blood." Mirza now oped her eyes, and look'd around. And saw her Caffa kneeling on the ground ; She gave a scream, and shut her eyes again. While half she spoke^ half smother'd Cafta's name. Almouran started up, and jealous pride Began to wake suspicion in his bride : " Be not alarm'd, O King,'' Caffamba said, " All will be well — the bleeding now is staid ; And give me leave, O Prince, that 1 retire. Unless my further service thou require." " Thou now mayst go," said Almouran ; " farewell^ And thus our royal pleasure thou mayst tell Thy mother Queen, we will support her claim. Both with our arms and with our royal name." " Thanks, noble King ! — (No blessings on his head Dare I invoke, who now have doom'd him dead") — Caffamba whisper'd as he slow withdrew Beyond the portals, and was hid from view. Ere he had gain'd the station'd place, where all His faithful comrades waited but his call. To hurl their vengeance on the treach'rous foe; When Gamba panting came, and bid him go Back to the palace without more delay— Almouran waited, and he must obey. Caffa stood still, and thoughtful paused awhile^ Then ask'd if all was well, with half suspicious smile; 314 THE LION HUNT; Said Gamba, "All is well— the Queen is well — But let us haste, the Prince the rest will tell." He turn'd and follow'd Gamba by the way That he had come : " And must I then obey The tyrant that has robb'd me of my peace, My life, my love ! must I obey him ? yes — For once I will obey the man I hate, 'Twill hasten his, or 'twill retard my fate; If Caffa fail by some foul treach'rous deed, Then shall Almouran with his victim bleed !" Thus musing as he went did Caffa go. Expecting soon to meet his raging foe ; The hall he enter'd where Almouran sate. To wait his coming, in his chair of state : He smiled at his approach : " Our Queen," he said, " In blooming health, has risen from the dead ; And claims a promise which she says I made. And till 'tis granted she will never wed : A full-plumed ostrich 'tis that she doth claim, Tn lieu of one that by a lucky aim Was kill'd, when she provoked the useless strife — It lifeless fell, and falling saved her life. Now canst thou tell us, Prince, where we may find A full-plumed ostrich suited to her mind ? Thou much hast travell'd o'er the southern lands. And know'st their haunts amid the desert sands; And know'st perchance to catch them in the snare : Jf so, we pray indulge for us our Mirza fair — For we must humour those we wish to win ; Yet, being won, we hold it is no sin OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 315 To make them bend subservient to our will. No matter if they take it good or ill." With firm-lock'd teeth, that barr'd his kindling ire. And stopp'd th' eruption of his soul on fire. Stood CafFa firm beneath the arching dome. While o'er his head slow nods the feathery plume; Transfix'd with horror, deep revenge, and hate, To see the tyrant thus before him sate. And hear his own sweet Mirza thus traduced Before his face, and by his foe abused. He check'd his rage with deep and subtle guile. And o'er his features forced a placid smile : " O King !" said he, " I fear I cannot find A feather'd ostrich suited to the mind Of thee, O Prince, and Mirza thy fair Queen ; Not one in all my travels have I seen. Yet let me think" — he paused to recollect — "Yes, one I saw, where I did not expect. And glad, I am, Almouran, thou didst ask Me such a thing, and set me such a task ; For now 1 well remember to have seen What more concerns Almouran than the Queen. I saw an ostrich, with a poor old man, Ta'en prisoner by a wandering bandit clan Of fierce Bedouin Arabs ; prisoner still They keep him : while, encamped behind a hill Of drifted sand, they wait the caravan From Timbnctoo to Fez. Then, Almouran, If thou would'st not be plunder'd of thy wealth. Send out a force to take these thieves by stealth ; 316 THE LION HUNT; And strike a terror in the pilfering hordes Who thus infest and thus obstruct the roads." *' How strong their force ?" said Ahiiouran in alarm, " And how didst thou escape them without harm ?" " 'Twas evening when we saw the tented clan, And tried, with speed increased, to pass their van; The alarm was given — the cry, * To horse ! to horse !' And soon around us rush'd the mounted force : Their front we charged, and cut our passage through. And all that dared oppose us we o'erthrew. A hundred fell on theirs — on ours twice five were slain ; Unburied still they lie upon the plain. Then night came down, and favour'd our retreat, Or we had suffered a severe defeat ; For by their tents, as near as I could guess. Two thousand were they, nor could there be less ; With numerous camels, watch'd by swarthy Moors, To bear the capture of thy plunder'd stores." "What force," said Almouran, "would then disperse This troop of robbers bold ?" "A thousand horse," Caffa replied, " would take them all, or slay ; Then haste, dispatch them. Prince — no more delay. While I will send two guides to lead the way." Almouran, with prompt haste, the troops supplied. And Caffa furnish'd them a faithful guide ; Then soon as morning's smile illumed the day. They to the desert took their rapid way. The third day came, the guides alone return'd. While Caffa anxious for their coming burn'd ; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 31^ Straight to his presence then were they convcy'd. And to his ear alone confession made. " Your expedition, did it well succeed ? And are we safe from those barbarians freed ? And may we now securely risk the rest ?" Thus Caffa secretly the guides addrest: "And, faithful Zana, how did ye dispose Of such a formidable troop of foes ?" " Safe are they, Caffa — ne'er will they return. And many a heart will for their absence mourn ; We led them on beneath the scorching day, Through many a dreary, dismal, trackless way; We led them on to face the hot simoon, AVhen blazed the sun with burning heat at noon. Five hundred fell beneath the pois'nous blast, While all the rest it scathed as o'er it pass'd. Yet slew them not; and still we led them on. Then left them when so far astray they'd gone. As from the desert ne'er to find their way. But soon must fall the vulture's carrion prey." " Well have ye done your duty, comrades — well; Now haste ye hence, my friends, and Gondar tell I wait him here : be ready at the call. When to the rescue I shall summons all." They smiling went, with all their souls on fire. And Gondar came. " Most venerable sire," Said Caffa to the bearded sage, " thou now must go. And face as I have faced our mutual foe: Take thou the ostrich that we brought from home, On which thy Mirza oft did fearless roam ; 318 THE LION HUNT; There sell it, give it, change it, any thing, To save thy child, and cheat the tyrant King. Tell him the story that we two have made. And what thou think'st beside, so he's betray'd ; Now fare thee well, and Alia prosper thee. In thy bold efforts to set Mirza free !" The old man went to meet Almouran King, And led his ostrich by a silken string. Awhile he stood before the palace-gate ; His errand known, then to the hall of state He soon was usher'd by the eunuch chief. And to the King he told his story brief. " Whence comest thou, old man?" Almouran said, " And what thy business here?" The old man bow'd his head : " King, Almouran, or whate'er thou be. Doth Gondar come to pay his thanks to theej 'Tis all he can present, for robb'd of all. He nothing hath to give thee great or small. Ta'en prisoner by a plundering Arab band. Long hath he wander'd through a dreary land — Companionless, alone, save this fond favourite here. Which once was my dear child's." A trickling tear Fell from the old man's eye ; he wiped it then : " But now thy valiant troops have once again Restored his liberty, and he is here, O King, to thank thee for a boon so dear." "And have my soldiers, then, these rebels ta'en ?'* *' They all are prisoners made, dispersed, or slain !" OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 319 " For this success be praised great Alla's name !" " May all thou dost, O King-, succeed the same!" " Old man, I thank thee — whither goest thou ?" " No home — bereft of all — I do not know !" " Then stay thou here, and I will well provide For all thy wants j that ostrich for my bride Dost thou intend ? For one does Mirza pine. And that will suit her well; if it be thine. Old man, thou may'st demand its price in gold. It shall be paid." " And must it then be sold ? Deprive me not of this my only care, O King, nor drive an old man to despair* It was my child's, and her it did prefer. No other parent has it known but her ; An unfledg'd nestling, she took it home. And train'd it o'er the desert wilds to roam. Oft to the chase upon its back she rode. While swift it sped, delighted with its load ; But she is dead, and this is all that's left. And must I then of this too be bereft ? Oh, cruel fate, to break an old man's heart ! And must I too with Mirza's treasure part ? O Prince, I cannot, dare not sell it thee ! Forgive me. Prince, for speaking thus so free !" Almouran starts at sound of Mirza's name — It might, yet nay it could not be, the same. He pondering thought: " How callest thou thy child ?" He ask'd the old man, as he guileful smiled ; " They call'd her Mirza when she lived, but now She has no name in this wide world below." 320 THE LION HUNT; " Mirza they call'd her ?" "Mirza'was her name." i< 'Tis somewhat strange— my Queen is call'd the same !" " I wot not what they call thy desert Queen; They say she's beautiful, and that I ween Well pleases thee, O King ! yet let me say, There's none that equall'd Mirza in her day !" " And didst thou really see thy Mirza die ?" "■ I did," the old man answer'd with a sigh ; And with these hands I laid her in the grave ; Now round her tomb the fragrant cassias wave." " I sorrow for thy loss, old man, but how. If thou resist, shall I win Mirza's vow ? She claims an Ostrich, such a one as thine, And vows, till then, she never will be mine ! Then let me purchase this one at thy hands, Thou must comply, if Almouran commands; 'Tis mine per force, if strictly I persist. Then part it freely, and no more resist." " On one condition will I now consent. To leave it here, and go from hence content!" " Name thy condition, it is granted thee" — "'Tis this, O Prince, that I Queen Mirza see; — That I to her this precious charge may give ; That in her keeping it may safely live : — Then, too, I can instruct her how to ride ; To curb its speed and all its motions guide ; — Charge her to be to it like Mirza kind ; Grant this, then I can give it up resign'd. And leave it with a sigh, yet leave it safe behind !'' OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 321 " Well, go thy way, old man, and see the Queen j And when our lovely Mirza thou hast seen, Perhaps thou wilt be then inclined to say. There's none that equals Mirza in her day." The old man went, with anxious beating heart. Scarce knowing which, a real or feigned part. To act. As Gamba show'd him on his way, " Kind slave," said Gondar, " here a moment stay; I must not to the Queen's apartment go. No room is there the ostrich speed to show ; Then lead me to the palace-garden, where Is ample space to try his swift career. Here, take this purse of gold ; now haste, my friend, Go tell the Queen, and bid her here attend." Gamba dismiss'd, the old man gazing stood. And all the lovely scene before him view'd. Of orange groves, and lawns, and sweet arcades. Where bubbling fountains play'd, where cooling shades Invited to repose, where blooming flowers Of ev'ry die form'd amaranthine bowers; Where rich perfumes fill'd all the ambient air. While beauteous songsters warbled every where. He stood and gazed upon the lovely scene. Till o'er the lawn he saw approach the Queen ; He turn'd his back towards her as she came. And twice he tried ere he dared speak her name; Then with a low, distinct, and solemn tone, " Art thou come here, fair Queen," said he, " alone?" " Is that, old man, thy homage paid to me? Alone am I — turn round and thou wilt see." 322 THE LION HUNT; " JNIirza, be on thy guard, nor show surprise. Should thy aged father stand before thy eyes." He paused, stood still, then slowly turn'd him round. And kept his eyes awhile upon the ground; Then up he luok'd, and saw upon the green. His lovely Mirza dizen'd out a Queen. She saw hira too, she saw her aged sire. And through her bosom thriU'd affection's fire : " It is my father ! Oh, it is, it is ! All thanks to Alia for so great a bliss L" She forward sprung, and to his arms she rush'd. While down her smiling cheeks the tear-drops gush'd : He gave her one sweet kiss, one fond embrace. And gazed a moment on her lovely face. His arms he then unclasp'd, then bade his child. For one short while, be still and reconciled : " Resume the Queen, and keep thy distant ground. With caution act, for spies are lurking round ; My errand here is now to set thee free. All is arranged, yet all depends on thee ; If thou be not too wedded to this place, Too much a slave, too sunk in deep disgrace" " O, father, father," Mirza weeping cried ! " Too nearly dost thou touch my honour's pride; But teach me where to fly, and Mirza goes. My sire, my guide, let all the world oppose." "Sweet, noble girl, well has my darling spoke; These words have all my dark suspicions broke. Here, then, my Mirza, is thy favourite steed. Thou know'st to ride it well, and know'st its speed ; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 323 Safe from these walls, safe moiinted on its back. Not all the slaves of Fez shall ever bring thee back." " Oh ! dearest father, glad am I that thou Hast hither brought my fav'rite bird Tibboo ; Now I can ride and exercise me here: Would thou hadst brought my quiver, bow, and spear." " Here is thy bow, the bow that CafFa bought — The very bow by which young Caffa taught My Mirza how to shoot with matchless skill. And lions, panthers, antelopes to kill." ** My bow too, and my arrows ! father dear. How glad 1 am ; and Cafta, is he here .'"' "He is — didst thou not see him with the Kiny; ? Didst thou not take the presents he did bring ?" " I did, yet could not then believe 'twas he ; Methought 'twas but a dream what I did see." "That lock of hair he bound around thy arm." " This hair ! 'twas mine, I sent it as a charm To him, the stranger, who sent me the plume; And was that Caffa? O, has Caffa come ? Where is he, father ? why not bring him here .'"' " 'Twould cause suspicion, child ; but now give ear. And mark me well what I have here to say. For time is precious, and I may not stay. Well exercise thy Tibboo here, ray child. For while at home he's idle grown and wild ; Make him thread all these mazy walks with speed. And teach him how to fly when from this place he's freed. x2 324 THE LION HUNT; Fix up a target in this garden wide, With full career in circles round it ride ; Then aim thy arrows at its centre part. And think thou aimest at a foeman's heart. Invite Almouran to behold thy sport. And with him, if he chooses, all his court; Then in his wild career thy Tibboo guide. And show thy skill, and gratify his pride. Do this each day till the new moon appear. Then thus prepare, for liberty is near : Bid Almouran proclaim it far and wide. That on that day thou wilt become his bride; Andj deck'd in all thy charms, that thou wilt go In grand procession with a splendid show. To visit the great mosque, where Mufti stands. In holy robes, to join your willing hands. Go on thy ostrich, in thy desert vest. That thou may be distinguish'd from the rest: Fill well thy quiver with a triple row Of feathery darts, and firmly brace thy bow : Be on thy guard, look well around to see And seize the moment when 'tis time to flee ; Call up thy courage, banish every fear. Though still unseen, thy friends will all be near. Farewell, my child — be bold, be resolute; Be cautious too, and thou shalt reap the fruit Of all thy toils, and once more shalt be free From tyrant kings, and all their tyranny." " Father, farewell ! yet give me one embrace Before thou goest hence, to hide from me thy face." OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 325 " Not now, my child, thou art Almouran's Queen, And it were death if such a thing were seen." The old man went, while Mirza staid behind. Each fili'd with joy each other thus to find. Her steed she mounted, and career'd around. While Gondar travers'd slowly o'er the ground. The old man met Almouran at the gate. Well pleased he was that he had come so late ; Or he their conf'rence might have heard or seen. *' And now, old man, hast thou beheld our Queen ? Is she not far more lovely than thy child ?" " Thy Queen is fair," the old man said, and smiled ; " My Mirza too was fair ! A parent's eye Perchance might beauties more than faults descry. My child was blooming as the rosy morn. While thine looks pale, as if by sorrow worn. My Mirza's eye roved brilliant as the light. While thine more languid seems, and far less bright. Yet still, O King, she is a lovely Queen, And one more beautiful I ne'er have seen. Save my sweet child, who now, alas I is dead." The old man paused, and bow'd his hoary head. "Thy speech deserves both censure and applause," Said Almouran : " according to our laws, 'Tis death to speak against the Queen, and thou Hast utter'd treason to our face e'en now ; But then again our Queen thou didst commend, That won thy pardon, and ourselves thy friend. Farewell, old man, we go to seek our Queen; Wherd shall we find her P" " Sporting round the green : x3 32(> THE LION HUNT; Almouran, fare thee well, and mayst thou live Till all thine enemies thou dost forgive, As thou forgivest me !" They parted then, To meet no more, or meet mid battle's din. Almouran sought the Queen, and Gamba found. Watching her rapid speed, as round and round She circling flew : he stood to watch her too. And thus Almouran, as they stood to view : " Gamba, 1 much suspect all is not right — What noise was that and tumult in the night ?" Mirza, while circling in her swift career. Like the glance lightning was approaching near, As that ill boding question caught her ear. Gamba replied, or trembling would have done. But Mirza, interrupting him begun : *' Some drunken revellers were all the cause. Who had profanely broke Mohamed's laws ; As from the alcove I beheld the scene, Methought I heard them shout " Long live the Queen !'" " 'Tis well it be no worse, but much I doubt That darker crimes than that will be found out. Gamba, be on thy guard — send spies around. To watch the traitors where they may be found ; And that old man ! him do I much suspect — Observe him well — perchance thou mayst detect Some hidden plot; — and then, the city guards. See that they all are station'd in their wards. Methinks I have not seen them since they went To quell the bandit troopers, and prevent The caravan being plunder'd of its stores. Whose only guard was ten-score trusty Moors. OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 32/ Show Almouran thy ring — then keep it till Thy Prince be freed from jeopardy and ill." " The ring," said Ganiba, trembling as he said, " I left for thee, besides Zadamis' head." " Beside Zadamis' head ! dissembler vile ! By this I know thy service is with guile." Now Mirza thought it time, and interposed. Fearing her secrets might be all disclosed ; Then interruping both she thus began : " 1 wonder much that thou, O Almouran, Shouldst quarrel with thy slaves before my face. Which makes me feel as if 'twere my disgrace. Gamba, begone — Prince, send thy slave away. And end thy quarreling another day : For now I wish to entertain thine ear With secret words that thou alone must hear." Gamba dismiss'd, and Mirza's secrets kept. Aside she took the Prince, and nimbly stept Before him to an arbour's cooling shade ; To his delight she full arrangements made To celebrate the nuptials, named the day. And begg'd that it might be a grand display. He list'ning heard with wonder and delight. And blest the day that e'er she saw the light : " O Mirza, Mirza, thee will I adore ! Sure ne'er so lovely didst thou look before I" With transports fill'd, he press'd her to his breast; Reluctantly she yields to be caress'd. While Almouran declared he now was truly blest; 328 THE LION HUNT; PART FIFTH. Dense tlirong'd the crowd around mosque Caroubin, And liush'd by expectation was the din Of mingling thousands, anxious waiting there. Till the procession from the gates appear Of Prince Almouran and his lovely bride. Whose fame had spread through all the country wide. At last was heard a distant murmuring hum. Then rose a deafening shout, "They come, they come!" All eyes were instant turn'd, and gazed the way Whence came the pageant in its grand array. First came six slaves with green and silver wands. All clothed in white, and braced with golden bands : Then twice ten troopers on black Barbary steeds. With brazen helmets glittering on their heads; Then fifty Moors, crown'd with the myrtle wreath. Bore incense-vases that rich perfumes breathe ; Six negro girls then strew'd the way with flowers. Bright, fragrant, fair, pluck'd from hesperian bowers ; While round their arms, and 'mid their jetty curls. Blazed golden topaz, mix'd with clustering pearls. Then came the Mufti in his sacred vest. Blessing the people as himself was blest ; Then came the eunuch chief in grand estate, Surrounded by the officers of state j OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 329 On snow-white steeds they rode, a goodly show. While golden trappings blazed 'mid crimson's gorgeous glow ! Then Almouran came next, and by his side Was lovely Mirza, his betrothed bride; Her feathery steed she gracefully bestrode. And gazed around her as she slowly rode. Her gaudy trappings now all thrown aside, Drest in her desert garb, her native pride Resumed its place; while unrestrained and free. Her motions show'd her perfect symmetry. The nodding plume her lovely temples graced. While round her arms the bracelets firm were braced; A golden crescent blazed upon her breast. While beads of pearl upon her bosom rest. And thus was Mirza clothed, yet over all. With graceful ease, was flung an Indian shawl ; Loop'd fast before, it floating hung behind. And furl'd and flutter'd loosely in the wind. Her fav'rite steed Tibboo, an ostrich strong, Stalk'd with majestic pace amid the throng; Upon his head was bound a tufted plume. Of mingled dies, which made him to assume A stately bearing; while, with silken cord. She curbs his pace, and guides him on the road. Behind them came a train of dancing girls. With fragrant flowers crown'd, and deck'd with pearls; With nimble feet they skip along the ground. And as they dance they scatter charms around, 330 THE LION HUNT; In gaudy robes then came a troop of slaves, Arm'd with light wands and richly gilded staves. Then moving onward, bringing up the rear, Tn straggling bands, the Arab troops appear. On dappled chargers, still five hundred strong; Their thousand comrades they had look'd for long. And yet they came not — when would they appear ? What 'mid the desert could detain them there ? Thus march'd along the splendid cavalcade. While smiled the sun on all their pomp array'd ; Yet lovely Mirza was the magnet star, Attracting all, and shedding joy afar: Her beauty won all hearts, all souls inspired — All eyes beheld her, and all eyes admired I As nearer to the mosque they slowly drew. Dense and more dense the crowd each moment grew. And push'd each other on to get a nearer view. Retarded thus, they slowly still proceed. When Mirza from the press wish'd to be freed. She bid the slaves proclaim, with voices loud. That her wild ostrich would not face the crowd ; And that they all must range on either side, And leave the middle pathway free and wide. Then in the open space the ostrich stalk'd. While on each side the Prince and Gamba -walk'd. With ambling pace, upon their creamy steeds. While Mirza free and leisurely proceeds. Around she gazed, with trembling hope and fear. For well she knew that Caffa must be near; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 331 But Still she saw him not, yet hoped to see. And quick her bosom panted to be free ! They enter'd now the wide and circling space. Where stood El Caroubin, the sacred place. Almouran gazed intently on his bride ; Her face, her form, with satisfaction's pride He view'd, and thought how very soon that she. His own fair Queen, his lovely bride would be. While Mirza was intent, all eye, all ear. To catch the signal when it might appear ! Her bow was in her hand, her hand upon the string. When suddenly a startled dove took wing, And from the Minaret's tall spire it flew ; Her barbed arrow to its head she drew : The string twang'd shrill, the arrow whizzing sped, Down fell the dove amid the gazers dead. Struck with astonishment, th' admiring crowd Applaud the Queen with shoutings long and loud ; And while their breasts were yet with rapture warm, Another shout began— a new alarm Was rais'd among the troopers in the van. And shouts and yells of " Treason ! Almouran !" Caught ev'ry ear, transpired from ev'ry tongue. Till mosque and city with the treason rung ! The clattering hoofs of trampling horse grew near. And clashing swords rush'd on the startled ear ; Then came amid the uproar din, a cry From those behind, " Fly, Mirza! quickly fly [" While tumults fierce began on ev'ry side. And 'mid the multitude spread far and wide. 332 THE LION HUNT; The people shouted, yet they knew not why. And answer'd like an echo, "Mirza, fly !" While to their homes they fled, and left the fray, And soon was clear'd the lately crowded way. Behind her Mirza look'd, she saw the strife — Now was the time for liberty and life : This was the signal she had wish'd to see — The way was open, and she now might flee ! She stroked its neck, then one familiar word She kindly spoke to the proud-crested bird : " Fly, Tibboo, fly ! to thy far desert fly — Tyrants and slaves we leave behind to die l" [wings. Wide stretch'd the bird its strong-plumed, quivering And through the streets it like a whirlwind springs ; None stopp'd its flight, none dared its flight oppose. Its rapid speed all obstacles o'erthrows. Now to the gates they rapid come at last — There all was safe, and barr'd and bolted fast : Mirza, perplex'd, now knew not what to do — " The ring," she thought, " the signet ring I'll show : *Twill surely save me in this hour of need." Then urging on her bird with swifter speed, " Ye watchful guards, your gates wide open fling — See here the signet of Almouran King ! Now, on her Tibboo let the desert Queen Have free egress : 'twill instantly be seen, A race 1 ride, and I shall win it too — Then ope your gates, and let the Queen pass through." With prompt alacrity she was obey'd. And scarcely aught was her swift flight delay 'd ; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 333 Wide open flew the gates, and open stood — And through their spacious portals, now a flood Of mighty warriors to the war might rush ; Nor was it long ere such a sudden gush Of warriors battling came, in deadly ire. With souls all flame, and energies all fire. Almouran, Cafl^a, came — two warriors bold. Like savage monsters breaking through a fold : A tiger one, for blood and cruelty; And one a lion, fearless, noble, free. With all their warriors leaguer'd side by side. They rushing came like an impetuous tide: [hurl'd. Bright flash'd their swords, their javelins fierce were While souls released fled to another world ! With frantic rage Almouran cursed and swore, And urged his troopers on, to get before The flying foes, and stop their coward flight. And in the narrow streets compel them there to fight. Yet all in vain, they set his threats at naught. They still fled on, and as they fled they fought ! The open gates in view, " Bar fast the gate !" Almouran cried, yet still he cried too late ; Mirza had pass'd, and to the desert gone. And fast and furious Caffa follow'd on. The narrow portals some obstruction gave : Here freemen fought for freedom, with the slave. The raging tyrant, and his servile clan — While horse with horse engaged, and man with man f The clashing swords rung many a funeral knell O'er Turks and Arabs as they stricken fell : 334 The LION HUNT! With dead and wounded was the gateway choked. Yet deadly hate the conflict still provoked. Mirza, meantime, had unobstructed pass'd. And gain'd the space beyond the walls ; at last She look'd behind, and seeing none pursued, She turn'd her round to watch the bloody feud ; She waited then the issue of the fight. Yet kept aloof, and ready for her flight. The battle's din came thundering on her ear. And every moment wax'd more loud, more near j Then with an anxious heart she nearer drew. While louder still the murderous clamour grew. She yearn'd to know her sire's and Caffa's fate — When rush'd the battling warriors through the gate; Fighting like tigers o'er some mangled corse. They carnage dealt around on man and horse. Her sire she saw, and Caffa blest her sight. Yet both were struggling 'mid the thickest fight: To imitate them now was her's, or never — Full twice twelve shafts were in her gilded quiver; She circled on her Tibboo round and round. And dealt where'er she came the life-destroyingwound. She kept aloof, yet ever hover'd near. To cut the stragglers from the battle's rear; And one by one she singled out her foes. Opposing all, yet none did her oppose. Still raged the strife, while blood in torrents pour : From the strong arm of a gigantic Moor Was Caffa stricken by a sabre blow. And near was lost, when Mirza bent her bow. OR, THE BniDE OF THE DESERT. 335 And took her aim ; the pointed arrow sped True to its mark — it whizz'd o'er Caffa's head. And pierced the Moor between his flashing eyes : His eyes grew dark — he fell, no more to rise ! Then CafFa, once more mounted on his steed, Look'd round to see who'd done him that good deed : He saw his Mirza braving all the war. While death she dealt around, herself without a scar. Then CafFa cried, yet Mirza heard it not, So deep the war-clang thicken'd round the spot: " Thy CafFa, Mirza, owes his life to thee — That life he gives that Mirza may be free, For what is life, deprived of liberty \" He said, then rush'd once more amid the strife. And blood for blood he risk'd, and life for life. Still round and round careering Mirza goes. And ev'ry shaft she shoots a foe o'erthrows ; When suddenly from the far battle van. Three struggling troopers wheeling left the clan : Two Arabs fierce, with swords all drench'd in gore. The third attack with overwhelming power. They fight, they wheel, they guard, they struggle long. The weak o'ercome, must yield him to the strong ; Then down his horse comes headlong on the plain — *•' O God, it is my father ! he is slain \" She spoke no more, but like the lightning sped. That shoots the thunder-bolt ; while to its head She drew the steely barb, and held it there — Within the arrow's range; then in its death-career 336 '^^^ ^^^^ HUNT; She launch'd it forth : with agony of soul, She watch'd its flight unerring to the goal. Just as they dragg'd the old man from his seat. Ere yet the work of blood was made complete. Like a simoom came the death-whizzing dart. And pierced one savage Arab to the heart. He fell, his comrade saw his fall, yet still With savage fury he rush'd on to kill The helpless, poor old man; his arm was raised. His flashing eyes with burning vengeance blazed ; His bloody sword gleam'd horrid through the air. While Mirza scream'd in agony, *' O spare I" Yet ere her cry could reach, her arrow too was there. Deep through his neck it pierced, and down he dropt. While blood and foam his struggling life-breath stopt. She hasted to the spot to raise her sire, And cherish with her care life's feeble fire. If it was not extinguish'd all and dead : She stoop'd her down, and rais'd his drooping head. He gazed upon her languidly, and smiled : " Is this my Mirza ? Is it thee, my child ?" " O, heavens, he lives !" she cried, " my father lives 1 All thanks to Alia who such blessings gives. O, father, 'tis thy child, thy own dear child. That the proud tyrant from her home beguiled ; But thou art wounded — whither must we go, T' escape the vengeance of the murdering foe ?" "I am not wounded, child — I feel no pain — But who are these that lie beside me slain ?" ■5-^5 OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 337 " They are two Arabs, who o'erUircw my sire. And there they lie— what more dost thou require?" "And was it thou, my child, who laid them low ?" *' ^Twas Alia poised the dart, and bent the bow — Then Alia praise for thy deliverance now!" " My child, my child, to thee I owe my life !" " My father, nay ; but hark ! the battle strife— We must away : thy steed lies mangled here — One thou must have, yet none for thee is near ; But yonder o'er the sands, their riders slain. The war-steeds wildly run uncurb'd by bit or rein !" She Tibboo mounts, then o'er the plain he springs, And wide he stretches his broad quivering wings Soon she o'ertook a war-steed, dapple gray. And brought him back in triumph safe away. Her sire she help'd to mount, then onward goes. To seek where Caffa battled with the foes; Full soon she came where death was dealt around. And slaughter wallow'd on the crimson'd ground. Outside the gate the vengeful battle lower'd. And Caffa and his band had been o'erpower'd : Yet Mirza's shafts unseen, unerring flew. And twice twelve sable Moors, save one, she slew; For ev'ry arrow through a heart had pass'd : One only shaft remain'd, it was the last. Fix'd on the string, again it pointed true. When Prince Almouran burst upon her view, In furious haste his captive to pursue : She saw him come, she took a steady aim. Swift launch'd the dart, and down Almouran came. 338 THE LION HUNT; Then rose a cry that echo'd round the plain, " Haste, haste and help ! Prince Almouran is slain I" The battling slaves now leave the battle fray, Turks, Arabs, Moors, all headlong haste away. To raise the fallen King, and lend their aid. That to the city he be safe convey'd. While Mirza with shrill voice thus taunting cried. And thus tlie fallen chieftain did deride: " Go, tell thy captive wives, how Mirza sped, "When with their tyrant she was doom'd to wed : Go, tell them what the ransom Mirza paid. When she discover'd that she was betray'd." Then off she set to join her CafFa dear. And Gondar, too, her sire beloved, was near: Then Cafta shouted to his comrades, " Fly ! And leave the tyrant 'mid his slaves to die !" His little band then to the muster came. Faint, weary, wounded, bleeding, mangled, lame; Leaving their comrades slaughter'd on the field. Who fighting died, disdaining all to yield. Now to the desert swift the troopers sped. And left the tyrant's realms, with CafFa at their head. Beside him Gondar rode, and Mirza too. Upon her matchless, swift-wing'd steed Tibboo ! Away, away they went, o'er hill and plain. Yet sorrow'd sorely for their comrades slain. *' Alas !" said Caffa, " those brave men have died. To win me back my long imprison'd bride; But they are well reveng'd — my Mirza's free, And their fierce murd'rer, Mirza, fell by thee !" UR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 339 " He fell," said Mirza, "but may rise again. For think not, Caffa, that Almouran's slain. His steed it was, and not the Prince I slew — Aimouran lives, and he may still pursue !" " And why, my child," said Gondar with a frown, " Struck thou the steed, and not the tyrant down ?" " Because," said Mirza, with a winning smile. That might suspicion's jealousy beguile, " I wish'd the bloody, slaughtering war might cease. That to the desert we might flee in peace ; But should the tyrant dare again pursue, Amid the scorching sands, he there shall rue; ^Mid the great desert once more are we free. The tyrant then, my Caffa, I resign to thee." " O, lovely Mirza ! best beloved and dear ! Would that Aimouran and his slaves were here; The bloody tyrant by this hand should fall. Or death and slavery overwhelm us all." " Boast not too much," said Mirza, with a smile, " Remember'st thou thy hard and dang:'rous toil Before the gates of Fez — thy bloody strife ?" " 'Twas there my Mirza saved her CafFa's life !" " Mine too she saved," said Gondar. weeping, "minel" " Thine, noble sire ! did Mirza too save thine ?" " She did," said Gondar, " then the deed denied." " O noble, gen'rous maid !" then Caffa cried : [replied. With sweetest modesty she blush'd, yet Mirza naught Still, still they journey'd on, in swift career away. While higher rose the sun, and hotter shone the day; y2 340 THE LION HUNT; And wlien they'd gain'd a lofty mountain's brow. Far in the distant vale, far, far below. They saw the glittering flash of armour bright, 'Mid the dark trees, like twinklingstars by night, [band; " They come ! they come !" ran murmuring thro' the " Still must we fly, or shall we make a stand ?" " Fly ! fly !" said Mirza, " linger no more here — Entice theni on amid the desert drear; Lead them astray far o'er the trackless sands. Then broken and dispersed, the straggling bands Attack with all your force, the wilder'd slaves enclose. And one by one exterminate your foes." They all applauded what fair Mirza said. Then sped them on as they before had sped. Now to the desert's trackless wilds they come. Whose burning sands recall'd her island-home. Hid in the wide Sahara's bosom vast. To Mirza's memory as they onward pass'd ; Once more at home, and in her own domain. With joy of soul she gave her steed the rein. " Farewell, my Caffa ! my dear sire, farewell ! If Almouran ye meet, ye him may tell. That Mirza, his stray bride, has gone before. And he may follow if he still adore. Her will he find beneath some fragrant tree. In yon fair islet 'mid the desert sea ; AVhere in the cooling shade she will prepare Her nuptial bower, and wait her lover there!" She smiling spoke, then Caffa's hand she press'd. And as she sped left him to guess the rest. OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 34J Away, away she went, nor look'd behind ! Like some proud eaj^le soaring down the wind. Or the fork'd lightning quivering through the skies; So Mirza's 'libboo o'er the desert hies, Nor prints its footsteps as it skimming flies ! High roll'd the sun in his unclouded blaze. While all the desert quiver'd with the haze Of torrid vapour in its furnace glow. That scorch'd and shrivelPd ev'ry thing below; Yet onward, onward, onward still they sped. While clouds of sand behind them, as they fled. Rose on the sultry breeze amid the air. And ting'd the sky with their red pulver'd glare. Away, away, beneath the blazing sun. Faint, weary, wayworn, still they hurried on ; Plunging amid the ridges that repose Like charm-bound waves, till the wild winds arose To wake them from their still, unbroken sleep. To roll and whirl like billows of the deep. Still onward, on, 'mid the Sahara vast. Like a loud whirlwind they careering pass'd. Where naught was seen 'mid all the dreary land, But scorching, drifting, suffocating sand ! His Mirza gone, then Cafta fell behind. And let the sand-cloud drift before the wind : He gazed before toward his distant home. Then gazed behind upon the way they'd coinc. A cloud of sand in the horizon far He saw : '' They dare not, sure, provoke a war y3 342 THE LION HUNT; In this wide trackless waste !" lie inward thouglit : " This morning's skirmish might have caution taught ^ Should they dare track the Lion to his lair, — If he be bold and fearless every where, Yet, bearded in his den, he's more than Lion there !" Still onward, on they swept the dreary track. And ever more did Caffa turn his back, To mark the progress of the coming foe. Who gain'd in space perceptible yet slow, A nearer object now caught Caffa's eye, Obscured before by sand-squalls whirling by : Then CafFa cried, in an exulting tone : "It is the Prince, unaided and alone ! O, would that Mirza now were here to see How Caffa fought the tyrant of the free !" The troops look'd round with wonder and surprise. They saw 'twas true, yet scarce believed their eyes ; Then Caffa thus : " When we two foemen meet. Curb in your speed, yet keep on the retreat; And watch the doubtful fray !" He smiling said. Then linger'd in the rear of those who fled : While in his furious haste Prince Almouran Far, far outstripp'd the foremost of the van Of those that swift pursued, who must obey. Though death oppose, if he but lead the way. Far, far before had Caffa's comrades gone. And far behind Almouran's follow'd on ; At straggling distances, and far between. From either host the chieftains might be seen ; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 343 They near'd, they met, their greetings soon were o'er. Their welcomings were short, for they must part no more. Thus Caffa spoke : " At such a foe as thou I scorn. Prince Ahiiouran, to bend the bow ; Yet hand to hand will I maintain my right. And on this spot I dare thee to the fight !" Almouran answer'd naught, his eyes of fire Spoke for his tongue, and told his vengeful ire. Forth flash'd their swords, and glitter'd in the sun. All red and bloody with the murders done. Desperate they fought, and long, as side by side They still career'd away ; vengeance and pride Nerv'd their strong arms, and steel'd each haughty heart; [struggles part ! Like bloodhounds lock'd they fought, till death their They wheel, they guards they parry, cut, and thrust, 'Mid rising clouds of smothering pulver'd dust ; Their fiery chargers kick, and plunge, and rear; They sudden part, then meet in swift career ; Then wheel, to charge each unprotected rear. Swift through the air Almouran's falchion flies. While Caff'a watch'd it with keen piercing eyes ; Then with a sudden, well-directed stroke. He met Almouran's sword — the weapon broke : The splinter'd blade lay glittering on the sand. The hilt remain'd firm in Almouran's hand. "Now yield," said Caffa, " at the victor's cry :" " Never to thee !" " Then, tyrant, thou shalt die !" They spoke no more — round Caffa's sword was whirl'd. Swift from his charger Almouran was hurl'd ; 344 THE LION HUNT! His bleeding head roll'd on the yellow sand — The loosen'd reins dropp'd from his nerveless hand : Down fell his lifeless trunk with awful sound. While streams of blood deep crimson'd all the ground 1 Thus fell the Prince : the desert sands his bier. Yet threat'ning danger still was pressing near; An awful crisis was at hand, when all Might be entomb'd in one o'erwhelming fall. Far in the west the pillar'd sand-storms roll'd. Like pyramids of fire, and blazing gold : With whirling vortex round they swiftly spun. And o'er the sands their giant races run ! A dazzling haze their form and substance shrouds. Whose base the earth, whose top is hid in clouds: Tow'ring aloft, they burning, quivering rise. And prop a furnace canopy of skies ! Sublime and awful in their dread career. They nearer, nearer roll'd, and yet and yet more near. While fleet careering on behind afar. Came the dense cloud of troopers threatening war; On, on they came, rank straggling after rank. While o'er the sands their bits and trappings clank : Their swords and javelins glittering in the sun. From troop to troop like summer lightning run. On, on they came, and as Almouran fell. The foremost troopers gave a horrid yell ; Rank after rank caught the horrific sound. Till the whole desert with their cries resound : Still onward, on, to be reveng'd they came. Whose souls breathed death, whose swords seem'd burning flame I OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 345 Then suddenly "the simoom I" was the cry. As the blue vapour swept along the sky, Threat'ning- alike pursuing and pursued; Yet undismay'd its coming Caffa view'd. Behind, the troopers thundering in his rear; His right the rolling fire-clouds threatening near; His left, besieg'd by the hot simoom's breath ; AVhich way he turn'd were pestilence and death ! Surrounded thus by foes on ev'ry side. While far before him stretch'd the desert wide; Calm and collected in his own resource. He trusted for his safety to his horse ; And for its life his steed on him relied ; While o'er its mouth and nostrils safe he tied An Indian shawl, that out the poison kept. As o'er the scorching sands it fiercely swept. Then with his mantle mufiled round his head. Blindfolded thus, away, away they sped ! Away, away ! nor turn'd them once behind : Now, now they feel the hot and scorching wind ! Like the steam vapour from a furnace burst. With all the poisons of the desert curst : It flutters round them like a quivering fire. As o'er it rushes in its deathful ire ! Yet forward, forward, still he rapid goes. Nor danger fears, nor fears pursuing foes. His faithful steed, familiar with the storm, Speeds boldly on, nor fears its awful form : AVhile rolls the dense blue vapour swiftly o'er. With indistinct, low murmuring, gushing roar; 346 THE LION HUNT-, Blasting all life within its dreadful sweep. And health and vigour turns a putrid heap ! Whate'er drinks in its pestilential breath. Drinks poison'd draughts, and gulps a fiery death ! Yet onward, on, with death on ev'ry side. Swift he career'd, amid the dreary void. And now the hot simoom fled swiftly past. And far away had sped the poison'd blast ; A cooling breeze arose, and gently fann'd The sultry vapours from the boundless sand. Then Cafta from his face the mantle took. To gaze around him, and to catch a look. If his keen piercing eyes could yet descry His own sweet home beneath the cloudless sky. Far in the distance, like an emerald isle, 'Mid the vast waste, clothed in its verdant smile, His own sweet paradise burst on his view : Behind he look'd, yet none he saw pursue. All, all was still, and silent as the grave. Where slept the sand without a ruffled wave ; Yet onward, on he swift pursued his way, Fann'd by the breeze that rose at sinking day. And now he saw, in full career, afar Advancing o'er the plain, his comrades in the war : They nearer, nearer come, and now they meet. With smiles of joy and welcomings they greet. Surrounded thus by friends on every side. Back to their home more leisurely they ride : The gentle hills rose swelling to their sight. While all the vales lay bathed in golden light; OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 34/ The tufted woods waved their ambrosial heads. And richest fragrance o'er the desert slieds. Cheer'd by the sight of such a scene as this. And anxious hoping for the coming bliss. When he no more should o'er the desert roam, But live and love in this delightful home ; Quick Caffa sped, and left the rest behind. His dear-loved Mirza in this home to find. That to her willing ear his love might tell. And how for her he fought, and how Almouran fell ! But Mirza, with anticipations sweet. Her soul all love, her lover sped to meet ; Upon her steed, clad in her bridal vest. O'er the smooth surface of the sand she press'd. They met each other on the desert waste. As lovers meet — as lovers they embraced ! Then as they journey'd in communion sweet. And each to each their vows of love repeat. The sun went down all cloudless and sublime. An orb of fire amid a fiery clime ! Beneath an ocean of unruflled sand. He sunk to rest, and left the burning land. Now shone the crescent moon with silver light. And smiled serene on Mirza's bridal night; Now 'neath th' acassia's fragrant arcade. Where 'mid the leaves the quiv'ring moonbeams play'd. They journey'd slowly on, while each delighted ear. As from the rocks they leap'd, bright, sparkling, clear, Drank in the music of the tinkling rills. That wafting breezes modulates and swells. 348 THE LION HUNT; As Oil it floated through the balmy air, While peace, and happiness, and love were there ! Aronnd collected in a group they stand. Then Gondar Mirza's takes, and Caffa's hand ; The two he joins whose hearts before were join'd, Link'd now in love, in body, soul, and mind. The happy pair chant their sweet songs of love. And gaily dance beneath th' acassia grove : The elders gaze upon the youthful pair. The warrior Caffa, and his Mirza fair. With eyes of admiration and delight. Rejoicing all to see the lovely sight. Now night and darkness o'er the scene advance. The song now ceases, and the sprightly dance ; The wearied, toil-worn, to their rest repair. While CafFa, arm in arm with Mirza fair. Led to the nuptial bower's inviting shade. The blushing, yielding, half-reluctant maid ; Where mutual passions met in fond delight, And ecstasies of bliss prolong'd the festal nioht! The morning came, the sun in glory smiles, In radiant beauty, on his desert isles ; The waking landscape glows beneath his rays. While all the desert kindles to a blaze. The tufted woods all lit by sunny glades. And fragrant bowers of cool, delicious shades; Where the red kossim amaranthine twines, And blooming colocyrith its creeping vines, Fann'd by the od'rous, aromatic breeze That plays and flutters 'mong the flowers and trees OR, THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 349 While thousand songsters plumed in rainbow hues, Th' admiring eye at ev'ry op'ning views; While the delighted ear, as on it floats. Drinks in the music of a thousand throats ! Where crystal springs for ever clear and cool. Form bright cascade, or rivulet, or pool ; While hill, and dale, and bower, and tufted grove. Unite to form a paradise of love ! Such was the place where Mirza, Cafla, dwelt. Such was the happiness the lovers felt; In love they lived amid the desert wide — The warrior Chieftain and his Desert Bride. In after times, when years had pass'd away. White fields of bleaching bones uncover'd lay Amid the desert waste, and widely strown Where'er the winds the drifting sands had blown. Then asks the wand'ring traveller his guide, " What bones are these that round are scatter'd wide ?" Then in a solemn tone, the guide will say, *' Once on this place there was a bloody fray ;" And, pointing to a little hill, will tell Where Caffa fought, and where Almouran fell. " There was he buried in the whirling sand. Here, smothcr'd by the simoom, lie his band. When fierce pursuing CafTa's Desert Bride Across this dreary desert, vast and wide: 'Twas in this place they fell, upon this spot they died !" NOTES TO THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. A silken Uirban of bright emerald green— A colour sacred to the chosen line. Page 227, line 14. The descendants of MohaiTied (real or presumed), that is, the Commander of the Faithful, the Sultans, and their families, &c. wear green turbans. — None other are permitted to wear it upon pain of death, green being a sacred colour. Before him rode six officers of state, While on each side two fav' rite negroes wait. Page 227, line 25. The Bashaw of Tripoli, after treating Major Denham and Clapperton with sherbet and coffee, invited them to a hunting party. He appeared in the field, mounted on a milk-white Arabian steed, superbly caparisoned, having a saddle of crimson velvet richly studded with gold nails, and embroidered trappings. He was preceded by six chaoiishes, or officers, in white silk robes ; while two favourite negro slaves, in glittering vests and white turbans, sup- ported hiraon each side. The hunt began on the borders of the desert, where parties of six or eight Arabs dashed forward quick as lightning, fired sud- denly, and rushed back with loud cries. The skill with which they manoeu- vred their steeds, whirling the long musket over their heads as they rode at full gallop, appeared quite surprising. Form'd by the creeping vines ofcolocyrith. Whose scent perfumed the desert's arid breath. Page 229, line 1/. In some places on the borders of the desert, the country is covered with trees of enormous size, encircled by kossim, colocyrith, and other twining shrubs, which form bowers of a most beautiful description, enlivened by the notes of thousands of gaudy birds, and perfumed with fragrant aromatic breezes. Strangely contrasted with this picture, are the dry and lifeless de- serts, composed either of mountains and plains of hot stones, or of vast masses of loose burning sand, which, sometimes formed into moving pillars by the whirlwind, and sometimes driven forward like a mist by the gale, threaten the traveller with death and burial ; or rather with burial, and then death— a fate which befel the army of Cambyses.— Head's Life of Bruce. NOTES TO THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 351 O Almouran, thou mighty king of kings. Page 232, line 15. It is the custom in eastern countries (where the march of intellect has not yet progressed so far) to address their kings, sultans, princes, governors, and even the arrogant rulers of petty states, in the most abject and fulsome strains of adulation; while those who address them lie crouched in the dust, like vile worms, beneath the feet of their imperious tyrants, who also arrogate to themselves the most pompous titles and dignities — as witness the following curious extract from a letter from that great high-sea robber and barbarian, the Day of Algiers, to his Majesty George the Third : — " Aley, son of Mohamet, God protect him. " The help of the helpless and guard of kings, mighty king, the most merciful, with the help of God at Mecka — commander of the whole Moham- edans under God ! God preserve the king ! " King of land and sea — king, son of king, the king of mercy — Mustapha Ham, may God maintain his glory and his kingdom for ever — Sovereign Lord of my country, also of the west : Alia Bacha, God fulfil his desires, to his most sacred Majesty George the Third. God grant him long life and our love," &c. lie. Around his neck the string they twisted tight. Page 247, line 1. The bow-string is a common instrument of execution in Mohamedan states, and among despotic rulers, yet more particularly at Constantinople, where the deposed sultans end their existence by being strangled by the bow-string, as it is accounted a heinous crime to shed the blood of the descendants of the Prophet, though no guilt is attached to depriving them of their life by this or any other equally barbarous means. — The bow is forcibly bent by two strong men ; a noose is formed by the string, through which the head of the victim is put ; the bow then springs to its former tension, and is further aided by the executioners, who pull against each other at the opposite ends of the bowj until he is strangled. A Virgin hunter on an Ostrich steed. Page 252, line 18. The ostrich is the tallest of all birds ; when he holds up his head, he can reach eleven feet in height. It is also the swiftest of animals that do not fly. The author of the book of Job, speaking of the ostrich says—" When the ostrich lifteth up her head on high, she scorneth the horse and his rider." And Zenophon, in his Expedition of Cyrus, speaking of the desert of Syri?, through which the Grecian army marchedj says — " Of wild creatures, the most were the wild asses, and not a few ostriches. None could take an ostrich, the horsemen who pursued them soon giving it up, for they flew far away ; and as they fled, making use both of their feet to run, and of their wings, when expanded, to waft them swift along." — All authors agree, that in run- ning they assist themselves with their wings, in the manner described by Zenophon. Some have thought that this compound motion of running and flying, gave occasion to the fiction of the poetical horse Pegasus. When Mr. Adarason was at Podar, a French factory on the south bank of the river Niger, two young, but full grown ostriches, belonging to the factory, afforded him a very amusing sight. They were so tame, that two little blacks mounted both together on the back of the largest. No sooner did he feel 352 NOTES TO THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. their weight, than he begun to run as fast as possible, and carried them several times round the village; and it was impossible either to overtalie or stop him, otherwise than by obstructing the passage. This sight pleased Mr. Adarason so much, that he caused it to be repeated ; and to try their strength, he directed a full-grown negro to mount the smaller bird, and two others the larger. This burthen did not seem at all disproportioned to their strength. At first they went at a tolerably sharp trot ; but when they became heated a little, they expanded tiieir wings, as though to catch the wind, and moved with such fleetness, that they scarcely seemed to touch the ground, and would far outstrip the fleetest racer that ever run on an English race course. One of the Houris dropt from paradise. Page 2.')4, line 2. Eastern fable has filled the paradise of the faithful Mussulmans with beau- tiful black-eyed creatures, called Houris, who are far more lovely than the loveliest of womankind in this world. The company, the conversation, the smiles, and the caresses of these beautiful Houris, the faithful are to enjoy, when they gain the paradise that Mohamed has prepared for them. To gaze upon such beauteous charms as thine, O more than earth-born, lovely maid, divine. Page 254, line 7. Let it not be supposed by those fair ladies who may honour this little book by their perusal, that Mirza, the heroine of our tale, was adorned with a bosom of such a fair and delicate white, and such lovely, blushing, rosy cheeks, as themselves are possessed of ; and which is the proud characteristic of the fair inhabitants of this happy and temperate isle, above all other coun- tries. From a frequent exposure to a torridsun, it may naturally be inferred, that Mirza's complexion would be so far in unison with ttie climate, and her habits of freedom, as to obtain for her the well-known appellation of the Nut-brown Maid, with two fine rolling black eyes, a set of beautiful white teeth, and a roguish dimple on each cheek, surrounded by bewitching smiles. To live and love amid Hesperian bowers. Page 254, line 12. The ever-blooming garden of the Hesperides, according to ancient mytho- logy, abounded with fruits of the most delicious kind, and was believed to be situated near Mount Atlas, in Africa. And bring me ev'ry morn a rebel's head. Page 274, line 9. Perhaps to my gentle and tender-hearted readers, this bloody portraiture of a despotic prince, may appear too cruel, too shockmg, and too inhuman to have any counterpart in reality ; but let me beg to assure them, that the cruelties described here are tender mercies, compared with some of the acts of eastern sultans and despots, not only of ancient date, but even of the pre- sent day. Hear what Bruce says of the Dey of Algiers, when he was British counsul there. In one morning, seventeen Turks were seized, and strangled in his presence ! he even condemned to death his own brotlier — and for every trifling complaint brought before him, he prescribed King Richard's remedy of_" Off with his head!'" NOTES TO THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 353 Mr. Bowdich tells us, that the present King of Ashantee, on the death of his mother, devoted SCtiiO victims to " water her grave." Mr. Dupuis was informed by an eye-witness, that in the invasion and conquest of Goraan by the Ashantees, lU.OW old men, women, and children were put to death by tortures the most revolting to humanity. Mr. Dalzel found the road to the King of Dahomey's palace, strewed with human skulls, and the walls almost covered with jaw bones. At "the annual customs," this monarch waters the graves of his ancestors with human blood ; and blood is mixed with clay, to build temples in honour of their deceased monarchs. IVitJt costly spikenard from the spicy groves. Where smiles the mn upon his orient loves. In Yemen's land, Sjc. Page 275, line]?. The author of " Scenes and Impressions," says — " At early dawn we made the high land of Arabia the happy. The rising sun soon showed the savage coast ' Barren and bare — unsightly, unadorn'd.' No grass of the rock, no flower of the heath, no shrub, no bird, no look of life. Such is the r.spect of Araby the Blest, fur more than ISiOO miles along the coast, a rampart of rocks, dark waste, and wild. Like the rough rind russet coat of the Persian pomegranate, which gives little promise of the rich and crimson pulp within : so Arabia, all forbidding as she looks, can boast of Yemen and her sparkling springs, of her frankincense and precious gums, her spices and coffee-berries, her luscious dates, and her honey of the locks." And sent a golden bracelet for thy arm. Wrapt and enfolded in a secret charm. Page 305, line 9. In the central parts of Africa, they wear charms, with a word or two of the Koran written on them, wrapped up in eits of paper or cloth, of different colours. They string them together like beads, and wear them so round their necks and arms, as a preventive against all misfortunes and disorders. One of the native chiefs was met by a British traveller, whose horse, as well as himself, was nearly covered with this sort of charms. These brilliant gems from Allahabad's mines. Page 307, line 20. The diamond mines of India have long been known and celebrated. From that of Pannah, in the district of Allahabad, the Emperor Acbar formerly drew eight lacks of rupees annually. After rains, a red clay is washed down from the mountains, in which diamonds are found. He brought it me from great Timbuctoo's mart. Page 309, line 27. Timbuctoo (the fabled African El Dorado, or Golden City) carries on a great trade with all the caravans that come from Morocco and the shores of the Mediterranean. From Algiers, Tunis, Fez, Tripoli, ic. are brought all kinds of cloths, iron, salt, muskets, powder and lead, swords, scimetars, spices, perfumes, amber, &c. They carry back, in return, elephants' teeth, gold dust and wrought gold, gum-senegal, ostrich feathers, very curiously worked turbans, and staves in great numbers. 354 NOTES TO THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. Ta'en prisoners by a ivatidering bandit clan Ofjieree Bedouin Arabs. Page 315, line 24. The wandering troops of banditti infest the great routes of the caravans from Mecca, Cairo, Timbuctoo, «&c. to plunder them of their wealth and merchandise, which is generally of great value; in consequence of which they generally travel in great numbers, for security and mutual protection. A caravan will often be composed of ten or twenty thousand people, which, together with their numerous camels, horses, mules, and beasts of burden, form a large army ; yet still they are further protected by a number of soldiers. And all the lovely scene before him view'd. Of orange groves, and lawns, and sweet arcades. Page 321, line 16. The gardens of Fez are exceedingly beautiful, and filled with all kinds of fragrant flowers and shrubs, and delicious fruits, so that the city in general is a sort of terrestrial paradise. Who had profanely broke Mohamed's laws. Page 32fi, line 17. The followers of Mohamed are strictly forbidden to drink wine, or other intoxicating liquors ; yet this law, like many others of a similar nature, is broken unceremoniously whenever temptation assails and opportunity offers. Dense throned the crowd around mosque Caroubin. Page 328, line 1. Fez has a great number of mosques — it is said they amount to two hundred. The principal one is called El Caroubin, which contains above three hundred pillars. This mosque can boast of the singularity of having a covered place for women, who may choose to participate in public prayers. This is a cir- cumstance unique and peculiar to this building ; for as the Prophet has not assigned any place for icomen in his paradise, the Mohamedans give them no place in their mosques, and have exempted them from the obligation of frequenting the public prayers. Then came the Mufti in his sacred vest. Page 328, line 21. The Mufti is the chief priest of the Mohamedans — something similar to our archbishops. Hid in the wide Sahara's bosom vast. Page 34(1, line "I. The meaning of the word Sahara, as applied to the great desert of Africa, is, sea without tiater. In yon fair islet 'mid the desert sea. Page 340. line 26. These beautiful islands, or oases, are found scattered in various parts of the Great Sahara, and are cut off", as it were, from the rest of the world, by poisonous winds and burning deserts of moving sand ; yet they contain within themselves a little world, a lovely paradise, a terrestrial heaven — surrounded by the flames and terrors of a terrestrial hell. KOTES TO THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. 355 But scorching, drifiing, stiffocating sand. Page 341, line 23. Ali Bey, in his travels, says — There is no animal of any Icind to be seen in this desert, neither quadrupeds, birds, reptiles, nor insects, nor any plants whatsoever; the traveller who is obliged to pass through it, is surrounded with the silence of death. The intense rays of the sun, reflected from the soil as from a burning-glass, and the slight breezes scorched lilce a flame. — Captain Lion; Passing over sand hills to a sandy plain, the wind being southerly, brought with it such smothering showers of burning sand, that we frequently lost the track, being unable to distinguish objects at a few yards' distance. — Denham and Clapperton: The overpowering effect of a sudden saudwind, when nearly at the close of the desert, often destroys a whole Kali/a, already weakened by fatigue. — Volney : The heat of the sand-winds is sometimes so excessive, that it may be compared to the heat of a large oven, at the moment of drawing out the bread; and wo to the traveller whom this wind surprises, remote from shelter — he must experience its dreadful consequences, which sometimes are fatal. — An efficacious method is practised by stopping the mouth and nostril; v.'ith handkerchiefs, and the camels and horses bury their noses in the sand, till the squall is over Bruce and his companions, when they had escaped from the desert, with one accord, ran to the hill to drink. Ismael, one of his guides, being a.sked by some brother Janiza- ries what he was doing there, and where he had come from, answered in a violent passion and broken Arabic, that he was a Janizary of Cairo — that he had come last from hell — and that he had walked through a desert of fire and flames. Far in the west the pillar'd sand-storms rolVd, Like pyramids of fire, and blazing gold. Page 344, line 9. We were here (says Bruce) at once surprised and terrified by a sight, surely one of the most magnificent in the world. In that vast expanse of desert, to the W. and N.W. of us, we saw a number of prodigious pillars of sand, at different distances, at times moving with great celerity, at others, stalking on with a majestic slowness ; at intervals, we thought they were coming in a very few minutes to overwhelm us. Their tops reached to the very clouds. About noon, they began to advance with great swiftness upon us ; eleven of them ranged along side of us, at the distance of three miles. They came several times in a direction close upon us. They became immediately after sunrise like a thick wood, and almost darkened the sun ; his rays, shining through them, gave them the appearance of pillars of fire. When they re- tired, they left an impression on my mind, to which I can give no name, though one ingredient in it was fear, with much wonder and astonishment. Our people became desperate — the Greeks shrieked out, and said it was the day of judgment — Ismael pronounced it to be hell — and the Tucononies that the world was on fite 1 I asked Idris if ever he saw such a sight before ; he said he had often seen them as terrible, though never worse; but what he feared most was the extreme redness of the air, which was a sure presage of the coming of the Simoom. Then suddenly " the Simoom .'" ujas the cry. Page34J, line 1. Then I;lris cried out, " the simoom ! the simoom ! fall on your faces to the earth 1" My curiosity (says Bruce) would not suffer me to fall down, z2 356 NOTES TO THE BRIDE OF THE DESERT. without looking behind me. I saw from the south-east a haze come, in colour like the purple part of the rainbow; it was about twelve feet high from the ground; it moved very rapidly, for I could scarcely turn to fall upon the ground with my head to the north, when I felt the heat of its cur- rent upon my face. I also found distinctly in my breast that I had imbibed some of the vapour, nor was I free from an asthmatic sensation for near two years after. The f lifted woods all lit by siimtp glades, A)id fragrant bowers of cool, delicious shades. Page 348, line 25. The beautiful verdure of these oases form a wonderful contrast with the desert by which they are surrounded. The paths through the woods are literally strewed with flowers, while the trees, rich in foliage, are all hung over with creeping plants, bearing aromatic blossoms of various colours, such as the mimosa, the kossim, the colocyrith, and among which the purple con- volvulus flourishes in great beauty. Many of the trees bear delicious fruits, the tamarind, &c. The accacia vera, or Egyptian thorn, flourishes in great perfection. They seldom grow above sixteen feet high, then flatten, and, spreading wide at the top, touch each other, while their trunks are far asunder ; and thus, under a vertical sun, sometimes for miles together, there is a free space, in which both men and beasts may walk, in a cool, delicious, shade. While fields of bleaching bones uncover' d lay. Page 349, line 14. Major Denham says — In this dreary part of the route across the desert, from sixty to ninety human skeletons were passed each day, but the number that lay about the wells of El Hammam, which we reached on the seventh day, were countless. As I was ridmg along in a thoughtful mood, a crashing noise beneath my horse's feet startled me from my reverie. I looked upon the ground for the cause, and foimd that my horse was trampling on the dried skeletons of human creatures, slightly covered by the sand ; he hap- pened to give a buried skull a push with his feet, which detached it fiom the trunk, and it rolled before me for several yards. The impression of awe that the accident caused to be fixed on my mind, did not leave me till we were safe over the desert. The skeletons of two women, whose perfect and regular teeth bespoke them yet young, were particularly shocking; their arms still remained clasped round each other, as they had expired. The Arabs laughed heartily at the expressions of horror uttered by the British travellers. THE FAREWELL. 357 THE FAREWELL. Dearest friend, I now must leave thee. Though my tongue is loth to tell ; And my heart as oft noisgave me, When 1 would have said Farewell. Yet each moment onward pressing, Makes my trembling heart rebel ; While my tongue is still expressing Those dread words— Farewell, farewell. Now I go — I part for ever From the friend I loved so well: Bodies parted, hearts shall never Bid each other thus Farewell. Torn from all that's loved, that's dear^ Grief at parting who can tell ? Bid adieu, and drop a tear — Drop a tear, and say Farewell ! Dearest friends, to distance driven. Meeting, who their joys can tell ? Parting friends asunder riven. Who can say the last Farewell ? /. 3 S58 THE WISDOM OF THE WORLD. I am doom'd that lot to bear, I am doom'd that word to tell, 1 am doom'd to shed a tear, I am doom'd (o say Farewell. Far away, I look behind me. To that place of magic spell. When each scene doth still remind me Of that long, long, last Farewell ! THE WISDOM OF THE WORLD. How blind is man, his schemes how vain. Wild vagaries of his lab'ring brain ; Projects and plans his thoughts employ, And visionary dreams of joy ! Nor can his boastful wisdom see Beyond the verge of dark futurity ; Nor can his depth of knowledge trace The confines of unmeasured space; Nor can he, save by memory, restore The days and years of time that is no more. Time present bounds within its narrow span The vast designs of vain, ambitious man : One moment views him bustling 'mid the crowd. And the next moment wraps him in his shroud : Yet, see him toiling on, it seems as he. Bankrupt of Time, made contract with Eternity ! MOUNT SI ON. A VISION. BOOK THE FIRST. O FOR a tongue of holy seraphim, To tell the wonders of the Mount of God, And sing with lofty strains, by heaven inspired. The blissful regions of the saints above ; Yet angel- tongues would fail to tell the Beauties and the holiness of heaven. Where the Omnipotent unveils his awful Glories to his worshippers, and fills with liight insufF'rable the paradise of God. Then how shall man — vain, feeble man — presuming. Sinful man — who crawls a reptile in this World below, attempt to sing the theme sublime That angel's tongue transcends ? or who shall Teach his narrow soul to grasp infinity And heaven, where the Creator uncreated Reigns, for ever reigns, in majesty divine ? For lo ! th' Omnipotent hath said, no 369 MOUNT SION. Mortal eye hath seen, nor ear hath heard, nor Heart of man conceived, the glories unreveal'd In those pure regions of unsullied bliss Where saints and angels dwell, and God is all in all. Yet fain would I, if but by Thee inspired. Attune my humble harp to sing, with feeble Voice and trembling strains, a theme with rapture Fraught — the glorious triumph of the skies. The righteous judgment of the holy dead. To heaven invited by a Saviour's smile; The awful sentence pass'd on wicked men. The earth destroyed, the heavens created new. Hell seal'd for ever fast, and paradise restored, On Pisgah's hoary top methought I stood, A disembodied soul, and view'd the world. With all its kingdoms, continents, and isles. Beneath me far in beauteous prospect wide. Long time enwrapt 'mid visions of delight, I view'd the earth in all its bright array : It seem'd to be the paradise of souls ; Too bright, too lovely ere to fade away. Where all the blest in bowers of love might dwell. Nor wish to seek a brighter, fairer heaven. Yet soon the vision changed : earth's glories fled. The mountain trembled where methought I stood. And all around me seem'd aloud to say. MOUNT SION. '361 That Time was at an end, the final hour Was come, the bless'd uiillenniuoi o'er; And all the multitude of saints that on The earth with Christ had reign'd a thousand years, No. 7 waited to be welcomed home to heaven ! The silent dead were sleeping in their graves. Unconscious of the awful hour that Ts'ear approach'd, when they must sleep no more. The disembodied souls were waiting near; The souls of all the generations gone. From the creation to the end of time. Rank as the congregated hosts of stars That glitter'd in the pavement of the skies. Invisibly they throng'd, and with their vast Immingled legions round begirt the world. The souls of all the dead, by heaven's decree. For one short hour foreknew the will of God, And saw the awful mysteries unseal'd. Till then in secret hid from ev'ry eye In hell, or earth, or heaven : from trembling fiends. Who hail'd the signal with despairing howls : From seraph aiid archangel waiting round The throne, who sung hosannas to the Lamb, And made the courts of heaven with hallelujahs ring; And from the souls of all the sleeping dead. The wicked and the just : while hopes and fears Reign'd in each anxious soul— celestial joys. And hell tormenting woes. To them was now Reveal'd the coming hour, the judgment-day. With retribution full, — the grand assize of heaven ! 362 MOUNT SIUN. Each waiting spirit hover'd o'er the place Where slept its mortal partner, mold'ring in The dust, to claim again its tenement Of flesh, when roused to everlasting life. And summons'd to eternal happiness or woe, Before the bar of heaven's most holy throne. Bright shone the sun in all his mid-day power. And round the world his glorious radiance threw; Enwrapt amid the splendour of his beams. The smiting earth lay tranquil and serene. And all around seein'd happiness and peace. Anticipating hope might anxious look For many days to come, as beautiful As this, and dream with pure delight of ages Rolling on, beneath the genial smile Of that bright sphere, dispensing glory round. But vain was every hope — the awful change attend. Down from the skies, swift as the lightning's blaze. And flashing brighter than its quivering fire. Heaven's high archangel came, Ithuriel, To do the will of heaven's Omniscient King. Upon a mountain's hoary, snow-crown'd top. His burning feet unwearied, resting, paused. He closed awhile his flaming, outstretch'd wings. And down he gazed with eyes of fire, upon The smiling world, that far beneath him lay. The marble mountain groan'd beneath his weight. From its crush'd fabric burst on ev'ry side Dark clouds of smoke, that round him densely roU'd, And veil'd his dazzling glory from the world. MOUNT SION. 363 Yet, ever and anon, like bursts of lightning From the gathering storm, flash'd the bright splendour Of his awful form amid the deepening gloom. And re-illumed the earth, and lighted all The skies. And still the mountain smoked, while on Its highest height the awful messenger Of heaven stood clothed in robes of fire. And loud the thunder broke within its Caverns dark. Its towering walls of thick-ribb'd flint. Dissolving, crumbled down. Its granite roof. Reduced by heat to pulver'd sand, broke through. Its deep foundations, fix'd within the earth, At once gave way, and with tremendous crash. That shook the trembling world, and echo'd Round the sky, it sunk engulp'd, with all Its fabric vast, far down the deep abyss. The rolling sea, with all her waves, rush'd on Impetuous, to entomb within her depths The mountain-crest, now sunk below her flood. That erst so proudly climb'd toward the sky. And spurn'd her battling waves indignant back. That warring dash'd incessant round its base : Yet ere the rolling deluge could engulp The smoking pyre, or quench its torrid glow, The archangel, standing on its sunken peak. Upon the boist'rous, foaming billows, fix'd His stedfast foot, beaming like burnish'd gold. And in the midway speed stopp'd short their loud Career. One foot on earth he placed— on earth That for a thousand years had bloom'd a 364 MOUNT SION. Paradise — now in an instant withei'd All and dead, a blasted prospect drear. One foot upon the sea he fix'd secure. And trampled the proud waves, and awed their Rebel rage. One out&tretch'd wing, with lightning plumed. Wide o'er the sea he swept, and fiery bubbles From its waters burst. One wing, tipp'd with Ethereal fire, o'er all the earth he waved, While from its shrivell'd crust burst clouds of smoke. And quivering flakes of fire exploding loud. Erect he stood, with awful front, and with Terrific majesty look'd on the radiant Sun, high shining in the arch of heaven ; Then, lifting up his hands towards the burning orb. He, with a mighty voice that shook the skies. And back resounding shook the world below. Swore by th' Eternal and Almighty God Who made the world, that time should be no more. Ceasing at once to roll, the pond'rous earth stood still. Fix'd and immoveable it stood, upon The stagnant ether buoy'd and anchor'd fast; Yet trembling quaked from its circumference wide Deep to its centre down. From pole to pole It shivering heaved, and from its dark unfathom'd Caverns groan'd. The raging sea, confounded At the shock, rose like a mountain barrier To the clouds : waves piled on waves, with foaming Crests that flash'd incessant fire, rush'd fiercely on. MOUNT SION. 365 And deluged all the land. Swift up the mountain's Rocky sides the billows furious raced. And loudly roaring lash'd each other on ; Till the salt spray dash'd hissing o'er each Fearful precipice, like a vast ocean Falling from the sky, to deluge all the world : Then, quick receding from its conquest gain'd, It back recoil'd — a mi;;;hty rebel, from Its fetters broke, it fled amain ; far to Its deepest depths it yelling fled, and left Its channel bare. The broad red eye of day. The stricken sun, fix'd in the centre stood. And shot his fiery beams o'er all the land. While nature struggled in her dying pangs. The mighty angel cast his eyes around O'er land and sea, and all again was calm. The heavens opened, and another angel came Down from the azure skies — Aerial. Descending swiftly through the ambient air. Like some vast comet from its orbit dash'd. With threat'ning aspect falling to the ground. The awful herald of Jehovah came. Midway 'twixt earth and heaven he curb'd his swift Career; and folding close his rapid wings. Trod the thin air sublime, while on its passive And elastic sea his footsteps rested firm. Then from a golden urn he took the burning phial. And pour'd its awful and mysterious Mixture out upon the breezeless air; When suddenly a mighty whirlwind swept 36G MOUNT SION. Around the world, with awful howling blast. That from their deep foundations tore the hills. And hurl'd them far into the boiling sea. Yet some withstood the shock that might have launch'd The world through boundless space, to roll for ever ^Mid the gloomy void ; but her career was o'er. Some stood sublime, girt by the circling waves. In solitary grandeur fix'd, immoveable. The troubled air grew thick, and deepening, dark'ning Gloom came gathering o'er. The blasted sun svax'd pale. And cast a ghastly twilight o'er the world. A deep and dense eclipse enwrapt its glory In oblivion dark, and like a mighty Blot upon the brow of night it frowii'd : Then roll'd with rapid flight across the Ebon arch, a fearful spectacle, beyond The bounds of time, and in the unknown depths Extinguish'd sunk, for ever and for ever lost ! Like a huge rocket shot from ^Etna's fire. The fullorb'd moon broke her attractive power. And whirl'd convolving through the dismal sky. Her sanguine orb, immers'd in seas of blood, Shed crimson beams o'er all the gloomy land. And fill'd the world with one wide furnace blaze. Down from the zenith then, with random whirl. Her equilibrium lost, she fled precipitate Beyond the northern pole, and in the regions Of eternal ice was froze for ever fasti Round the wide arch of night's black canopy The stars erratic roll'd; tracing eccentric MOUNT SION. 3()7 Orbits, swift they rush'd through the unfathom'd void. Of ev'ry hue they threatening, dismal gleam'd. All order at an end, they whirl'd along-, In countless myriads, through the ebon sky. Crossing their orbits in the fiery race. They struck their ponderous orbs with awful crash. And with the dread concussions shivering burst : While floods of molten hail a fiery deluge shower'd. Then rose a whirlwind fierce, that hurl'd them far Into the depths of everlasting night. And all again was still, and awful silence Reign'd throughout the universe. Then came Dark night with all its blackest shades, and hung Its sable banners round the vaulted sky. And paird the world in its sepulchral robe. Thick darkness, palpable, intense, congeal'd The stagnant air, and with oppressive weight Enwrapt the silent earth. A night most awful. Most profound, with darkness girt impenetrable. Last night to the last day, that o'er the verge Of heaven's celestial realm was rolling on. To burst with splendour from the dark profound — The World's last night, the grave of Death, Nature's Eternal exit, and the tomb of Time! From the high arch of heaven's imperial dome, Night's sable curtains suddenly were drawn. And through the inlet rush'd a flood of light Ineffiible, down to the world below ; And the whole earth wrapt in the glory beam'd, A mighty orb inlaid with burning gold. 368 MOUNT SIGN. Then all again was dark, and dreary night. And chaos slumber'd 'mid the awful gloom. Heaven's holiest hierarch, Gabriel, From that glorious portal of the skies Descending, left the throne of the Omnipotent, With high commission to the world below : Yet pausing where he stood, th' uplifted curtain Down behind him closed, and silence, darkness, Unconceiv'd on all around were seal'd. Then from beneath his radiant wings, the Great archangel took his golden trumpet. Kept secure within the armoury of heaven. To sound the doom of nature and the end of all ; As erst it spoke creation into being. And bid the universe rejoicing run Its glorious circuit down the course of time. The golden trumpet in his hands he took, And spreading wide his flaming wings across The gloomy void, he blew a mighty blast That shook the fabric of the skies, and made The earth to quake down to its deep abyss. And from his midway station in the air. Begirt with robes of fire, Aerial, The second angel, blew his silver trumpet. Sounding far and wide through all the realms of night. Then the third angel, standing on the sea And on the land, Ithuriel, crown'd with The lightning's beams, blew from his brazen trump. Whose voice had stopp'd the swift career of time, A blast that burst in thunder o'er the world. MOLNT SION. 369 And shook each trembling atom to its core. Three times the trumpets sounded loud and Ion"- • Three times on earth, and in the air three times: And from the gates of hfaven the sound went forth. An awful summons o'er the sleeping world. Then there was silence for a little space, That Time recorded not, for Time was at an end. Erect th' archangels stood, each in his Station fix'd, and tower'd transcendently sublime. Like pyramids of fire, while all was dark around : No moon, no stars were there — for moon and stars were gone. Once more the angels blew a sounding blast. That pierc'd the air, congeal'd by darkness dense. A threefold blast they blew, that swept the groaning World, while ocean with her heaving billows roar'd. Then all at once they gave a shout, that shook The heavens, and rent the stagnant air. And clave the solid ground. Aloud they cried. With voice omnipotent, " Ye slumbering dead, arise I" And all th' ethereal vault, from side to side, Re-echo'd back ten thousand times, "Arise I" Th' archangels' trump had sounded thro' the woild; The mighty voice had pierc'd the dark abyss : Earth's slumbering dust felt the electric shock. And conscious atoms hurried into life. Now land, and sea, and air convulsive grew. And loud confusion through the darkness ran. From the deep lab'ring sea, the heaving land. And through the pregnant air, each particle '^ A 370 MOUNT SION. Of matter quick'ning with sensation's fire^ Swift as the light-rays dissipating night, Sped through the gloomy void ten thousand Various ways, urged by propelling power. Each embryo atom, with instinctive Motion drawn to one fix'd centre, where Congenial atoms met, and kindred Particles uniting, form'd one perfect whole. An universal motion reign'd through all. Above, beneath, around, in sky, and sea, and land. A jarring discord, loud, yet undefined — A mighty whirlwind from night's caverns burst. It seem'd to rush ten thousand ways at once. And sweep the world with its careering blast : But yet no wind was there — the wind had ceased to blow.- It seem'd as if heaven's thunders, fulminating Down the far horizon's verge, were o'er some Distant land discharging all their wrath : While tlie free roving winds bore on their sweeping Wings, the dying echoes to tlie list'ning ear. And yet no thunders roU'd throughout the reign Of night's unbounded realm — the thunders were no more. It seem'd as if some mighty tempest. Wearied with its strife, was sinking to a calm ; And the vex'd ocean, foaming in its ire, Fierce driving all its tortured billows Rolling up the solid rampart of some Rock-defended shore, had chafed itself Into a sullen rest, a fretful calm. MOUNT SION. 371 While its hoarse murmurs lull'd it to repose. But yet there was no tempest through the Trackless deep, and the dead ocean slept Untempested, pall'd in the shroud of night. And yet again, it seem'd as if the earth did quake. A nervous tremor darkly work'd, in Undefined vibrations, round the heaving world. But yet the earth quaked not, tho' deep she groau'd, While life was waking in her mighty womb. 'Twas the last struggling groan of conquer'd death ; It was the general rising from the grave : It was the resurrection unto life. The first blest resurrection of the dead. From every corner of the breathing world, The dust, embodying once the soul of man, Scatter'd abroad through all the earth by power Omnipotent; and blown by ev'ry wind From pole to pole, and driven in viewless Atoms to the east, the west, through sea and land : Or floating undefined through the transparent air; Or frozen fast 'mid Zembla's endless snows ; Or calcined into dust on Afric's torrid zone : All in a moment at the trumpets' sound Were molded into being— from vile corruption Incorruptible— from the dark grave of death To light eternal and immortal life. And then there was a silence still as Death, And motionless as Time, for Time had ceas'd to roll; And Death was buried in the tomb of night. 2 A 2 3/2 MOUNT SION. While stedfast still th' archang-els stood, like Burning watch-towers o'er the gloomy land. But hark ! what sweet celestial strains come AVafted onward through the dark profound. Like phantom music of a niidnight dream. And hark ! again it comes, with louder sound And richer harmony, diffusing heavenly joy. Still waxing louder, swell'd the sounding peal. As nearer on it roli'd, like to the music Of the aerial harp, swept by the breath Of holy virgin, when she chants her ev'ning hymn; Yet sweeter far : while bolder, richer sounds, Fill'd with harmony th' ethereal strain. As through the empire of the night it roli'd. Then back receding, all its mellow tones In soft gradations melted faraway. Too delicately sweet for mortal ear; Like the last sigh that wafts a soul to heaven. And silence rested on the deep profound : Nor rested long, ere all the ebon sky. With sudden crash, roli'd back its gloomy curtains From the zenith to th' horizon down ; While all the thunders of th' Eternal peal'd. Then broke th' effulgence of the Judgment Day. Then open'd wide the overwhelming sea Of glory uncreate, o'er the astonish'd world ; While its full tide of light illumed the dark abyss. Then Darkness fled, with all its horrid gloom — Fled from the face of everlasting day : And Night, confounded on her ebon throne. MOUNT SION. 373 Her velvet banners furl'd in dire dismay. And headlong- pUing'd into the giilph of hell; Whose threefold blackness made tli' infernal pit A horrid region of eternal gloom. Then burst at once the minstrelsy of heaven. Like an exploding tempest 'mid the skies, Whose loudest thunders peal'd in music forth A deep, a mighty, overwhelming sound : While all the angel choirs their voices join'd. To swell the glorious concert of the blest. With rapt'rous joy they swept the golden strings. And woke angelic strains unknown before. With rapt'rous joy their heavenly voices join'd. While inspiration prompted them to sing The glorious and triumphant theme, till Then unsung by uncreated powers. And all the holy minstrelsy of heaven. And seraphim, and cherubim, and thrones, Join'd in the universal song of praise. Now first begun, no more to cease through all The countless ages of eternal life. And the archangels, ministers from God, And messengers of his Omniscient power. Who roll'd the billows of eternity along. And with its deluge stopt the course of Time : Who from his radiant orbit snatch'd the sun. And pall'd him in a shroud of threefold night : Who drown'd the full orb'd moon in seas of blood ; And scatter'd all the stars that gemm'd the sky. Like dew-drops shaken by the morning breeze : 2 A 3 S7-i MOUNT SIGN. Join'd with their voices in the loud acclaim, That sung Heaven's triumph over Death and Hell, And sung the second coming of the Lamb, To judge the world in righteousness and truth. And all the generations of the dead. That silent slept till time had pass'd away, Ariisen from their gloomy graves to see Eternity begin, that never more would end : O'er all the land they stood, a mighty host, A countless multitude, in bright array. O'er all the sea, stretcli'd wide from shore to shore. They thronging stood, buoy'd on the glassy waves ; Nor fear'd to sink, upheld by power unseen. O'er all the sea, o'er all the land they stood. Rank as the harvest crowds the banks of Nile, Ere Egypt's sons the curving sickle sweep O'er the ripe crop, to reap the golden spoil. The heavenly vision burst upon the world. And dazzling splendour smote the gaze of all. And as th' eternal music of the skies Swell'd o'er the earth, and fiU'd all heaven with joy; While ev'ry ear drank in the thrilling sounds, And ev'ry soul with joys ecstatic fill'd : Then all the mighty host, earth's sons and daughters. Congregated there from Time's first dawning To its final hour, amazed fell down In speechless awe, and wondering adored. From the celestial throng, that came to swell The pomp of heaven's triumphant day, a bright Intelligence, more glorious than the sun. MOUNT SIOX. 375 O'er all the prostrate millions waved his wand ; And cried aloud, with voice like music sweet, "Arise, ye faithful host! to endless bliss arise I" At once they rose, and fix'd their heavenward gaze Upon the dazzling splendour of the sky. That shone around them like a canopy of gold. And stedfast as they look'd, with smiles of joy, Th' angelic armies thronging all the air. In phalanx deep as angel-eye could pierce. And blazon'd with the panoply of heaven. Like twilight breaking o'er the orient hills. Were to their strengthening vision full reveal'd ; While paradise in all its glory shone. The angel-bands attuned their golden harps. And swept the strings to new celestial strains. And all the trumpet-voices of the sky Swell'd with their hallow'd theme the loud acclaim. That hail'd the blessed dead to endless life. And welcomed them to glories yet unknown. Unseen, uncomprehended, unconceived. Then all the countless multitude of saints. That hid the earth and cover'd all the sea. Back answer'd with a shout of rapt'rous joy The blessed greeting to celestial life : And rising all at once, a glorious company. No longer clogg'd and shackled 'mid the dust. They left the grave of Death, the tomb of Time, The tottering fabric of the ancient World, And the dark prison still of all the damn'd : And through the air sublimely soar'd away. 376 MOUNT SIGN. To meet the glories midway in tVie skies. Far to the ritiht they held their heavenward course. While the bright sj)lendour of eternal day. Without a cloud, beam'd on them fronn above. In every face was kindled smiles of joy. And every eye beam'd with celestial fire. Aloft, sublime, far, far above the world, The heavenly legions with sweet greetings met. Angels and saints by love's communion join'd. And link'd by bonds of fellowship divine, With loud hosannahs fill'd the vaulted sky ; While heaven's vast echoes answer'd back their praise. Bright splendour beam'd from all the ransom'd throng, And glory fill'd the wide circumference round. The desert world look'd lovely in ils fall, And seem'd to smile as it was wont to smile. When bathed in glory by the radiant sun. W^ith holy greetings saints and angels join'd. Earth's ransom'd ones, releas'd from Death's enthral. Now mingling join'd with heaven's unredeem'd, O'ercanopied by everlasting day ; To see the glories and the terrors of the Lamb, Ere to the regions of eternal bliss A Saviour's smiles would beckon them away. Then wheeling round, with evolution swift As the blue lightning shoots along the sky. The glittering host of saints their faces turn'd Once more to gaze upon the barren world, Marr'd and deform'd by Time's remorseless hand, MOUNT SION. 377 And ravafj'd o'er by Death — a horrid waste, — Of both the birth-place, and of both the grave. Buoy'd on the stagnant air, like a huge wreck it lay; Its towering mountains levell'd and o'erthrown. Its rocks of adamant to powder crush'd ; Its kingdoms, empires, continents removed ; Its oceans, rivers, bound'ries swept away ; Its cities, temples, palaces destroy'd; Its nodding forests and its waving woods Uprooted, wither'd, dead — a dismal void ; Its emerald . idure scorch'd to crumbling dust. And all its glories shrivell'd and decay'd. High in the air, the holy company Of angels throned in light, and spirits of The just, encompass'd with their armies bright; The pendent world in one effulgent zone. Like the mysterious ring that canopies with fire The cheerless realms of Saturn's chilly orb. Then thro' the midway space, 'twixt earth and sky, Th' archangel came, Urial, from his throne, And blew his trumpet loud, whose piercing blast Thrice echo'd round the world. A thrilling tremor Shook the sleeping dust, wide o'er its surface thrown. Or deep entomb'd beneath the mighty sea. He shouted then, with a commanding voice, " Ye slumbering dead arise, before your Judge to stand. And hear the sentence that your deeds have won." Now ev'ry eye of seraphim and saint Was fix'd upon the world with thrilling awe. To see the dread event expected long. 378 MOUNT SION. And long foretold by prophecies reveal'd. They gazed to see the pregnant lab'ring earth Bring: forth her millions curs'd with endless life. And doom'd to live eternally in wo. A livid gloom o'erspread the azure sky. A hot sulphureous blast swept fiercely on. While threatening vengeance lieralded the storm. Then burst the thunders o'er the trembling world. And all the lightnings hiirl'd their barbs of fire. Transpiercing deep the earth with their electric stings. The sky, illumined by the furnace glare. Blazed like a dome immense of molten brass, O'ercanopying the world, a scorch'd, distorted globe. Then pour'd the tempest all its vengeance down, A burning deluge o'er the desert land. "While massive orbs of hot metallic hail, Like blazing suns, all dripping down with blood. At random shot across the fiery void. Bombarding all the world with fulminating roar. While sulphur-balls, enwrapt in smould'ring flame. Like ponderous rockets shot from ^Etna's fire. High in the air exploding, bursting flew. And through the melting ether climb'd the sky. Thence driven back, the fiery volley roU'd A burning cataract down the height immense ; With mighty rushing noise it blazing fell. And pour'd its deluge o'er the sinking world. Beyond the reach of warring elements. Beyond the shriek of Nature's dying throes. The thronging myriads of earth's holy ones. MOUNT SION. 379 By angel armies safely compass'd round. With awe beheld from their celestial camp Relentless conflagrations raging o'er the world : And all creation, shrinking in dismay, Hung trembling o'er the dread appalling brink Of ruin's dark, interminable void. Bright in the glorious panoply of heaven. The angel hosts in awful splendour shone; While light effulgent beam'd from ev'ry saint. Like smiles of love when absent friendship meets. Down through the glare of fierce conflicting fires. Their mingling glories unobstructed shone. In dreadful radiance on the world below. And every eye of saint and angel in The holy throng, upon the earth was fix'd. To see the resurrection into life. From temporal death set free, to be enthrall'd For evermore in bondage, unreprieved. Eternal death to meet, and never-ending wo. And once again the trumpet-voice was heard. The loudest and the last. The seventh angel Pour'd his burning phial on the air; and all The winged lightnings swept in liquid flames A fiery deluge o'er the ruin'd world. Amid the conflict of the awful scene. The wicked rose in terror and dismay ; Myriads on myriads crowding all the earth. While rising myriads struggling gasp'd for room. With passions unsubdued they push'd each other on. In fierce disorder and incessant strife. 380 MOUNT SION. 'Mid scorcliing gusts they roH'd, like the hot delnge By the whirlwinds raised on Lybia's sandy plain ; Eager they rush'd tumultuous into life. Amid surrounding and o'er-arching fires, A flaming canopy lilazed o'er their heads; On burning marl their tortured footsteps trod. And scorching whirlwinds howl'd tempestuous round. The gnawing worm that feeds on tortured souls. Upon their vitals fierce began its prey ; [assail'd. While pangs of keen remorse their quailing hearts Upward to heaven they cast their guilty eyes. With tears of scalding sulphur running o'er : Millions of rolling eyes all heavenward turn'd, . To them no heaven, but hell made horrible and dark. While all its glories seem'd impending woes. Beneath the clouds of circling fires they gazed. With stricken sight, on the celestial hosts Of righteous saints and angels ever blest, Clothed with the beams of heaven's eternal day. Unsupplicating, unrepenting still. Their hearts more harden'd grew, and more depraved ; While savage horror, gathering up its frowns, Stamp'd on each visage all its darkest crimes. Writhing in agonies, they gnash'd their teeth. As on the blasting splendour still they gazed: While o'er the gloomy front of ev'ry brow. The demon monster sate of dark despair. And every crime was palpable to sight, [sin. And heaven, and earth, and hell, bore witness to the The Murderer there glared wild his horrid eyes. MOUNT SION. 3gl And clench'd his hands still dripping wet with gore. The iMiser, struggling from the grave of death, Grasp'd with his greedy fangs the burning soil. In search of hidden gold all turn'd to dross; And disappointed gnash'd his teeth and howi'd. The Atheist smote, with impious hands. His racking brain, consumed by raging fire; His stricken conscience breath'd forth awful sfroans. And curses deep broke from his perjured soul : The stinging worm fix'd its keen talons in His rancourous heart, and prey'd upon his life. Yet still obdurate in his stubborn pride. He felt the fangs transpiercing tear his soul : And, writhing in the tortures of his crime. His smitten conscience cali'd aloud in vain, "There is a God, Almighty, true, and just. And retribution pays the forfeit due." Yet unbelief denied the true appeal. And damning pride provoked his wicked tongue, With blasphemies to curse his God and die ! There writhed the Hypocrite in torturing pain. When from his blushless, shameless, godless face. The mask of piety was snatch'd away ; And from his guilty, sin-polluted form. The sullied robe of innocence was torn. And his true name blazed on his frowning brow; A counterfeit the image stamp'd by hell — A saint in semblance, yet in truth a fiend. On the Adulterer and the Prostitute, Whose glaz'ning eyes shot forth lascivious fires. 382 MOUNT SIGN. Were sear'd their names abominable, vile ; While fierce within them burnt each strong desire. With smother'd flame unquench'd, unquenchable. That eat them up with torments unreprieved. There stood, with brazen front, the Villain deep in fraud. Whom men amongst the sons of earth counted An honest man ; and such to them he seem'd. Now stripp'd of all his guile, the fiends around him, Once his kindred friends while in the world of time. Beheld, amazed, upon his forehead writ, With brands of fire, the Villain and the Thief. The Scoffer there, who broke the laws of God, The laws of man, and dared the wrath of heaven ; Who God's own day profaned, his Sabbath broke. And trampled his commandments with disdain. The Liar and the Slanderer, and they Who sinn'd against the light of truth, and those Who swore profanely, and call'd damnation Down upon themselves, with dreadful oaths And awful blasphemies, that made the fiends Of hell start back amazed : now granted all Their prayers, they feel the curse of heaven Upon their souls j while o'er their guilty heads The threaten'd vengeance hangs unpropt, unstaid. To fall and hurl them to eternal woe. The rich, the proud, the arrogant, the vain; Heroes, and kings, and great men of the earth, Unking'd, unhonour'd all, and unobey'd. There naked, trembling stood, and self-condemn'd. Their subject slaves, now fellow-fiends throng'd round. MOUNT SIGN. 383 To mock their woes and aggravate their pangs j While in their pride of torments new begun. They murmur'd curses from their tortured souls : And in the anguish of increasing woe. With savage fury raved, and wish'd that death Had shut them up for ever in the tomb. To sleep an endless sleep by dark oblivion seal'd. Nor thus have forced them rebels here to stand, Before their judge in this great day of wrath — A day they oft had heard of and blasphemed — A day that they believed would never come — A day that they were not prepared to meet. Though warn'd and warn'd again, rejected still ; Persuaded oft, and yet as oft refused. With threatenings told of vengeance drawing near. Yet disbelieving heard, they would not heed. Then sweet persuasion tried to lure their souls, Where virtue dwelt, and piety, and love : But, disobedient and perverse of will, The path of vice with eager haste they ran. Hard-hearted pride barr'd all the portal doors. And stopp'd each avenue where conscience dwelt; A prisoner bound in chains, and fetter'd down Fast in the dungeon of their flinty hearts. Where the bright sun of truth could never shine. Or shed one ray of light its darkness to illume. Bewilder'd in the dismal night of sin. In error's crooked ways they went astray. Swift down the road that led to endless death. And said it led to life's eternal day. 384 MOUNT SION. Onward they groped their wicked downward course, 'Mid darkness deep through sin's unholy ground. And yet they call'd it glorious sunshine. In the way to heaven's celestial realms. Life's journey ended, brought them to the grave. Less gloomy than the road that ltd them there. Eternal justice open broke the tomb. The trumpet-summons warn'd them to arise. And death restored them to unmeasured woe. There the false Teacher, and the Prophet false, Array'd in vestments sleek of charity and peace, Like wolves rapacious in the shepherd's garb, Possess'd of cruelty and fraud, and V^iolence, and strife; who made their paradise On earth in rioting and feasts; their bodies fed To surfeiting, yet starved their pining souls; Who led their willing flocks in error far astray. By doctrines of deceit that savour'd of the world. And luU'd their souls to sleep. Secure of heaven, Smoothly they preach'd of mercy, goodness, love. And promised joy, and happiness to all. Of justice, judgment, and the wrath of God, To rouse the slumbering sinner from his sins, They never spoke ; but let them slumber on, Till fiends awoke them in the pit of hell. The Pastor and the Prophet false, who ioved The world, with all its lusts and pride. And mumbled o'er their short cold-hearted creeds With drowsy, lifeless form ; then closed the holy book With satisfaction's smile, and folded hands. MOUNT SION. 385 To think once more their irksome task was done — Amid the flames arose in sore disniaj', Surrounded by the flock by them deceived. Now wretched outcast souls for ever lost. Deceivers and deceived together stood ; Fronn their credulity awoke, they saw too late They had been led astray ; and on their leaders They heap'd deep curses of einbitter'd hate, And loud revilings, nnix'd with dismal groans. Trembling, amazed, and horror-struck, they strove To hide their guilty heads beneath the ember soil ; But strove in vain. Transfix'd they guilty stood. Confronted there, the scorn, the curse of all. Whom blindly following they had erring led Through mists of darkness to the land of death. Heaven high above them shone, with lustre bright, And all the ransomed ones encamp'd around. With awful splendour struck their gazing eyes. Themselves excluded the celestial throng. While hell beneath them yawn'd to gulp them down. The blissful regions and the land of wo. To their despairing eyes brought pangs severe. As fierce they gazed on joys for ever lost. And woes unnumber'd kept for them in store. With boundless rage they curs'd their prophets false. Who barr'd against them all the gates of heaven. By doctrines of deceit, dark as the hell [fall. Whose doors stood open'd wide to catch them in their Then came the final struggle of the lab'ring world. The last grand triumph over death and hell, 2 B 386 MOUNT SIGN. Wlien like a heaving mountain, rose in awful pomp The monstrous archdragon Antichrist ! Who marshail'd in his train a long array Of mitred priests, and prelates triple crown'd. In scarlet vestments sumptuously attired. The groaning earth seem'd conscious of its Burthen eased, when from her lab'ring womb This pompous and gigantic monument of sin Proudly arose above the ruin'd world. And wallow'd in keen torments all its own— A barb'd behemoth in a sea of storms : While fiercer blazed the ambient fires below. That clothed the burning world, and round the mon- ster climb'd. With this proud, arrogant, presumptuous power. The devil's nursling and hell's darling child. That claim'd affinity with Heaven's Supreme, And launch'd his vengeance o'er the trembling world. Till seas of blood ran purple round his throne. And died his garments in the reeking gore; — W^ith this foul monster, that profanely snatch'd God's holy attributes from out his hands. And dealt damnation to the souls of men, — Arose an army vast, millions on millions Crowding all around, deluded and betray 'd. Upon the horrid monster fierce they gazed ; Through all his deeply veil'd deceptions, now Their glances pierced, and every fraud descried. Aghast they stood at being thus befool'd. And wonder'd how they could have been deceived. MOUNT SION. 38/ They gnash'd their teeth in agonies of wo. And curses deep burst forth in smother'd groans. Blindfold and muzzled, at his chariot wheels The bloody monster dragg'd them on through life. And fed their souls with poison rank as death. Disguised 'mid luscious sweets to pall their taste. Eager they gulp'd the cursed potions down, Till, madden'd with th' intoxicating draughts. They heaven blasphem'd, yet claim'd that heaven their own. With bloody, excommunicating hate. They tried to bar the gates of life to all : With tortures, threats, they closed up ev'ry door To exclude the world, yet found themselves shut out. The vilest rebels 'mid th' infernal crew. With deepest fraud this antitype of hell Deluded all by dark, mysterious schemes. And kept through fear the trembling world in awe; While on its blood he batten'd at his ease. And claim'd its treasures as his lawful spoil. The blinded, credulous, benighted fools. Trembled and worshipp'd at his Moloch-shrine; And when their hour of dissolution came. He sold them endless happiness and heaven For paltry gold — barter'd eternal life For worldly lucre and unhallow'd gain. With fond delight the glittering dross was paid. To win the smiles of him who ever frown'd. With parting life, they freely gave up all. And bribed the monster with a bait of gold, 2 b2 388 MOUNT SIGN. To grant a passport for their trembling souls. And paradise was purchased by the demon deed. Pleased, the blind fools anticipated heaven : In death they slept — The canonized elect; The worshipp'd, the revered, the holy ones of God The trumpet summons waked them into life, To claim their titles 'mongst the rebel crew ! Amid the tempests of the burning world Was Antichrist o'erwhelm'd, who long had reign'd The god on earth, supreme in ev'ry crime. Myriads on myriads struggling into life. Arose in sore dismay, eternal death to meet. Upon each harden'd visage deeply graved. In characters of fire, the howling fiends Read each his fellow-fiend's most secret crimes. Most harden'd, wicked, and obdurate sins. While in the vale of life, each strove to hide His crimes and failings from his fellow man. If he succeeded to cloak up his sins From mortal view, his wicked soul was glad, Nor dreaded then the frowns of angry heaven ; But still sinn'd on in secret, as he thought. And reck'd not that the piercing eye of Truth Mark'd down each hidden crime, each secret sin; And every evil action register'd above. Then known to God alone, and to his Son, Now stamp'd indelible to be perused by all. Tossinf!: upon the world's funereal pyre. The outcast nations agonizing roll'd. And felt at every pore a mortal death. MOUNT SIGN. 389 With keenest pangs invading all their frame : While waxing hotter, like a furnace glow. The trembling earth beneath them groaning shook. Above them roll'd huge billows red with fire. And scalding steams their naked bodies bathed : Yet every pang of agony was lull'd. Though raging fiercely through each racking vein ; When burst upon their startled, tingling ears. The dulcet harmony of heavenly harps. With thrilling horror through their hearts it rush'd. And every pain and every wo seem'd dead ; So exquisitely keen it pierced their souls. And conscience, wounded to its utmost core. Fainting and sick'ning at the heavenly sound. For shelter shrunk within the trembling heart. To hide its crimes amid the darkness there. And dire dismay upon a guilty world Her signal stamp'd, and claim'd them for her own. Awe-struck and motionless, they wildly gazed ; Each rolling orb immoveable was lock'd ; The burning brain, to maddening frenzy wrought. Shot from the straining socket of each eye. Infernal gleams, and wild, terrific rays. Like baleful Sirius in a midnight storm. Yet fain would ev'ry eye have shut its shrivell'd lid. To hide its bursting orb in deepest gloom. Ere it had gazed upon that splendid scene. That blasted all its sight with glory unconceived ; Yet stedfast fix'd, for evermore they gazed. And every ear its portal open'd wide, 363 390 MOUNT SION. To catch the sounds that echo'd from the skies ; Yet ev'ry ear would fain have closed its doors. And barr'd all passage to the list'ning sense. Ere that soul-thrilling, soul-tormenting sound Had peal'd like thunder in their tingling ears : Yet still they listen'd on, as if entranced [doom. And charm-bound by the strain that heralded their But to an angel's ear 'twas melody divine ; And fiU'd with rapture every saint redeem'd, 'Twas the celestial concert of the skies. Their endless praise of harmony and love; Their joyful hallelujahs to the Lamb, Who on his highest and most glorious throne Triumphant sate, pavilion'd in the heavens : While in the sunshine of his gracious smiles, Angels and saints on banquets feasted rich. Of love divine and soul transporting joy. To the affrighted ears of rebel souls. It spoke dread tidings of the coming Judge, In terror clothed, and majesty, and power. Begirt with clouds of darkness round about. The Almighty came, in all his pomp array 'd. The thunders roli'd before him through the skies. And all the winged lightnings quivering blazed. Like swords of vengeance waving o'er the world. Upon his spotless throne of awful white He sate, amid the heavens the Judge supreme; And every knee before his presence bow'd. The books were open'd where all deeds were writ Of good and evil — evil less than good. MOUNT SION. 391 The book of evil first was open'd wide. By the Omniscient, Omnipresent Power — A pond'rous volume, register'd with names Of every age, and country, and clime; With evil thoughts and wicked actions fill'd. And at its op'ning pealing thunders roU'd, That shook the pillars of the trembling world ; And bursts of lightning blazed through all the sky. While guilty rebels gnash'd their teeth and howl'd. Dismal and dark its blackcn'd pages frown'd. As leaf by leaf its calendar of guilt Unrolling, witness bore to ev'ry crime; While true, unerring evidence it gave 'Gainst every rebel soul, that trembling stood, ' To hear his sentence by the Judge of all. Then in the sight of all th' assembled worlds Of angels, devils, men, in earth, or hell, or heaven. The holy Saviour and the righteous Judge Broke mercy's golden sceptre, sway'd so long W ith tender love o'er a lost, ruin'd world : In twain he broke the pledge that link'd Eternity with Time, and open'd intercourse From earth to heaven. He cast the fragments Down the wreck of Time, and Mercy was no more ! The sword of Justice from its scabbard leapt. And threatening hung suspended in the skies: From its bright blade a thousand lightnings blazed, And fiery arrows quiver'd round it there. And every soul was summon'd to the bar. And every eye was fix'd upon that book; 392 MOUNT SION. The record of his crimes and of lus sentence too. Unfolding leaf by leaf, each opening page Presented to the gazing eyes of all, In long and dark array, their names and sins. And every guilty souK shrunk back amazed. To view his fiendlike portrait mirror'd there, Graved round with all his wicked, secret crimes. While underneath, in characters of fire, To be erased no more, this awful sentence blazed : " Sins unrepented of, though ever warn'd By promises of life, by threats of death. Yet threatenings, promises, alike despised ; Judgments and mercies disregarded too. Immersed in sins ye unrepenting died : In sins unpardon'd, unabsolved ye rose. And stand before the tribunal of heaven. Vile rebels all, guilty, accurs'd, condemn'd." And all the wicked re-embodied souls Read o'er their crimes writ in the book of death. With faltering, trembling tongues, and own'd them true. Their condemnation, too, aloud they read. And every soul in agonies confess'd The sentence just, and own'd themselves condemn'd. And all heaven's hosts the awful scene beheld — A guilty world before the bar of God Arraign'd, and waiting for their final doom. And silence stamp'd her signet on the lips of all. While black despair its image fix'd in view. And blasted every soul with sore dismay. MOUNT SIGN. 393 Beneath them far hell yawn'd — a fiery gulf; Behind them blaz'd the conflagrating world ; Before them frown'd the Judge, in wrath divine : His lightnings burn'd in terrible array — His thunders spoke the sentence of the damn'd : " Depart ye cursed into endless woe !" The awful fiat was confirmed, and heaven. And earth, and hell, heard the loud thunder-voice Through all their widest realms — the voice that shook The universe, and broke the mystic chain That link'd terrestrial with celestial worlds — That disunited kindred atoms all, Stopp'd their attractive and adhesive pow'r. Bid gravitation cease, overthrew all nature's laws, And snapp'd the silver cords that bound them fast In one all perfect all harmonious whole. Down to the earth the wicked howling fled. And headlong plung'd into the fiery flood. To hide them from the terrors of the Lamb, Whose wrath pursued them from his awful throne. No resting place upon the ruin'd world. No shelter from the angry Judge they found : Stern Justice ruled where Mercy once had sway, The work of desolation now began. The burning world from her firm moorings broke, And whirl'd precipitate along the sky ; While billowy flames across its orbit roU'd. Swift through the blazing flood she urg'd her course. And burning whirlwinds hurried her away. 394 MOUNT SION. Deep in her dark abyss the internal fires Enkindled all below ; and caverns, fill'd With liquid flame, burst through the encrusted soil : While red volcanos in convulsions raged. Laid open to their base, the prostrate mountains Belch'd forth cataracts of fire ; while from their Yawning chasms rush'd impetuous floods. That wrapt the world in flames. In mighty torrents. Rolling wave o'er wave, the molten lava flow'd : And seas of bitumen blazed round the burning world. From thick wali'd granite caverns, roaring burst Ten thousand whirlwinds forth, and tore the earth's Foundations up, and rent the groaning world. Swift from its seat the sea-girt mountain leapt; With all its flinty roots dark frowning in the air : Tremendous up it flew — a mountain Thunderbolt discharged against the sky : Then with its pond'rous weight descending swift. It fell terrific and impetuous down; And through earth's surface breaking plung'd — A burning firebrand through the chaos wide. Deep in the regions of the world's dark womb The fiery meteor roll'd, enkindling as it pass'd Vast magazines of inert matter, crude. Unorganized, in liquid fusion found. Inflammable, that conflagrating blazed : While tempest wind-gusts fann'd the raging fires. Impetuous forth they burst, and rent the ground. Whose heaving surface like the ocean roll'd ; MOUNT SION. 395 When all its billows in rebellion rose. Rocks hurl'd on rocks with fierce concussion smote. And roll'd their dread career of ruin on. The burning soil toss'd its sulphureous Embers round a scorchins" deluge wide : The mighty ocean like a caldron boil'd, And all its mountain waves at once broke loose With dread eruptions, like a banner'd host. And o'er its ramparts climb'd, escaping thence In clouds of steam, and surging flakes of fire ; While hot the furnace fiercely raged below. The marble pillars of the pond'rous world, Calcin'd by heat intense, at once gave way ; And the arched roof that bore earth's fabric up. With all its pile stupendous and sublime; Unpropp'd broke through into the dark abyss. And ruin triumphed o'er a world destroyed. O what a crash, what groans, what cries were ther^j When heaven and earth were rent asunder far; And all the wicked 'mid the wreck was hurl'd : What howls, what curses, what blaspheming yells. Broke from their tortur'd souls, when downward driven From the bright splendour of eternal day. To dwell with fiends mid darkness evermore. Not one escaped of all the rebel crew; Or crept by stealth into the lealms above. Branded by sin, and wedded to their crimes. They heaven renounced and all its glorious joys : While hell and its dark fellowship they claim'd ; 396 MOUNT SION. And refuge sought amid eternal woe. Nor was there one stray'd ransomed, pardoned, soul, In all that rebel host — not one was lost. Not one forgotten, 'mid the wreck of worlds: All claim'd affinity with heaven's redeem'd. And mingling join'd the family divine. They saw the wicked driven in wrath away; Themselves they saw within the verge of heaven. And loud they sung hosannas to the Lamb. No voice was silent, not a harp unstrung; .While angels, seraphs, saints, with raptures fraught, Fill'd all the skies with songs of heavenly joy. The banish'd rebels heard the glorious strains And answer'd back with yells of black despair. As hell's invulnerable doors upon them closed. With awful, thundering crash for ever fast : While its loud echoes shook the dark abyss. And all the startled fiends sent forth a yell Of agonising, deep, unutterable wo. Mount sion. 397 BOOK THE SECOND. Around th' Eternal Godhead beani'd a smile. Sweet as the morning's brightest, loveliest, rays, When o'er the orient hills of balmy Araby it breaks in splendid lustre forth, Dispelling darkness, gathering clouds, and storms; And bearing on its fragrant, breezy \vins:s. Luxuriant health, and happiness, and peace. So smiled the Father, the Eternal One, And in him smiled the Deity, the Son; When justice triumphed o'er the rebel world. And fiends and devils, to perdition driven, Fled to the regions of eternal night. Where darkness dwelt, and torments without end. The Father smiled, and in him smiled the Son, Upon the ransom'd hosts amid the skies; And ev'ry eye was lifted up with joy. And ev'ry face beam'd forth celestial smiles; And each blest soul with holy rapture burn'd — Foretaste of heaven, and happiness, and love. The awful volume, where the sentenc'd damn'd Read each his doom, now closed for ever fast, Seal'd with the signet by th' Almighty's hand. To be broke ope no more : there safely kept. Within the archives of Jehovah's court. To stand a monument in heaven sublime. 398 MOUNT SION. Of justice, mercy, wisdom, goodness, power, Till heaven endures, and endless ages roll. Then open'd wide the book of life innnortal. To the sound of heavenly minstrelsy ; And from its radiant pages beam'd, in Glorious blazonry, eternal life, And heaven, and love, and everlasting joy. Enshrined in light, unsullied, bright, and fair. Each name was writ in characters of gold. On precious gems, indelibly engraved. As were in times of old, when Aaron wore The sacred breast-plate in the holy place. With all the tribes of Israel's sons enroll'd. Composed were all the frowns that blasted with Dismay a rebel world, and all the terrors Of the Deity were hid beneath the smiles Ineffable that paradise illumed — Sweet invitations for the holy ones to read Their names recorded in the Book of Life. And first — the Angels, who had never sinn'd. But kept allegiance to the King of Kings, When Beelzebub, with all his crew enleagued. In treason's dark revolt, in heaven rebell'd. And from the battlements of heaven were hurl'd. To that deep pit where endless torments dwell — Upon their heads their crowns of glory wore. As on they moved through the ambient space, A mighty host, in panoply divine. To sound of harps celestial and the tuneful choir. And bowing down before th' eternal throne. MOUNT SIGN. 399 Adoring low the Lamb for sinners slain. They read their names within the Book inscribed — Life's Holy Book — then pass'd rejoicing on. With hallelujahs of triumphant praise, And claim'd their birthrights in the blest abodes. Then from the mingling ranks of earthborn Millions, came a heavenly company, A venerable band of Patriarchs, Whose hoary heads, with radiant glory crown'd, Beam'd dazzling white, like snowy peaks of Congregated Alps, lit by the rising sun; — Who lived beyond the flood, and saw the dawning Beams of infant time shed its increasing- Lustre o'er created things; — who dwelt with Nature blooming in her youth, and view'd the Rich luxuriance of a new-born world ; — Who worshipp'd God in purity and faith, And adoration paid, with hearts sincere. To the Almighty, All-creating Power ; Who built the universe in grand design. And hung the pendant worlds in golden chains. To run their circles round his lofty throne. While time's unceasing music prompted them to roll. Through tlie long circuit of a thousand years. They living held sweet intercourse with heaven; And incense pure, on altars undefiled. They offer'd up to Heaven's Eternal King. Unaw'd, unhurt, they worshipp'd God aright. And stood like beacons pointing to the skies. While yet the wicked world in dark idolatry 400 MOUNT SION. AVas lost; and rites obscene to demons ofFer'd up. Whose cruel altars stream'd with human gore. In peace the Patriarch band, heaven's holy Champions, arm'd with faith and prayer. Gave o'er their glorious warfare with A rebel world, and laid them down to rest. With hope immortal clothed, and faith divine, That knew not doubt or fear, they slept, secure of heaven. Till the last trumpet summon'd them to rise. To reap the glorious and the rich reward Of life immortal won, and joys that never end. In bright array the holy Prophets came Rejoicing forth, to see the glorious day So oft foretold in time that was no more ; When inspiration beam'd with light divine Upon their heads, that fill'd their hearts Avith heaven. And boldly taught their hallow'd tongues to speak. With holy rapture and prophetic fire. Commission'd delegates by heaven ordain'd. They open'd wide the council of the skies. And loud proclaim'd, with awful warning voice. To man — vile, sinful, disbelieving man — The eternal providence of God, and All his mysteries to the world reveal'd. Loud through the earth their warning voices spread. And vengeance threaten'd on the guilty race : They heard the sound, yet scoffing, disbelieved. Till vengeance came, and reap'd its due reward. Nations and empires drank their fill of sin, MOUNT SION. 4Q1 And ia their pride of triumph, pomp, and power. With haughty scorn blasphemed the God of heaven. Judgments of wrath the warning voice proclaim'd. And mercy for repentance too was preach'd ; Yet they repented not, but still more wicked grew. And kingdoms, empires, climbing to the skies. Were all o'erthrown, and crumbled into dust: While fierce the sword of desolation swept. And vengeance claim'd the empires for her own. And rolling years all prophecies fulfiU'd, Then Revelation ceased, and Time expired. The boundless flood of vast Eternity Then burst with splendour o'er the ruin'd world. And pour'd its radiance round the throne of God, With endless glory and eternal day. Smiling with holy joy, the Prophets saw The glorious end of all they had foretold ; And heavenly eloquence broke from their tongues. More sweet, more rapt'rous, more divine. Than e'er they sung while in the world below. Praising the God of prophecy, they read Their names inscribed in life's eternal book. While rapturous joys still prompted them to sing. Invited by their Saviour's heavenly smile, Tir Apostles came, a shining, heavenly band. Their numbers small, yet great their holy faith ; Their sufterings great, and great their rich reward. Firm pillars in the Christian church they stood ; Firm champions in the Christian cause. Victoriously they fought the battles of the Lord, 2 c 402 MOUNT SION, And o'er the aliens rose triumphant still. ^ Fearless they went to do the will of God ; Boldly they wrestled with the Pagan hosts: The works of dark idolatry o'erthrew. And planted firm the standard of the Cross — A glorious beacon in the heathen world. To guide lost sinners to the gate of heaven. The death of Christ th' Apostles ever preach'd — His death they preach'd, his resurrection too; And the ricli merits of his pard'ning blood. Shed for a sinful and rebellions race. God's missionaries through the world they went, Th' elect of heaven, sent by their Saviour forth. To preach glad tidings to the sons of men: Of life and immortality made known. Through Christ the Lord, by righteousness and truth. The resurrection from the dead they preach'd, And the last judgment of th' assembled world. Amid temptations, persecutions, stripes. Imprisonments and bonds, and death itself. They rose triumphant on the wings of faith. Made meet for heaven, and joys that never end. Through good report and ill they went rejoicing on. They fought for Christ, for Christ they conquer'd. And for Christ they died, and with their blood their Holy mission seal'd. They kindled the pure Light of gospel truth where'er they came. That open'd day to a benighted world ; And higher, brighter, purer, holier burn'd. In glory waxing still more glorious MOUNT SION. 403 Through the course of time, till all the earth was fiU'd With lijrht divine, and Christ was all in all. And forth th' Apostles came in shining robes, A band of brothers wedded to the Lamb : Above them waved the banners of the Cross, In glittering splendour, tipt with blood divine. Through heaven's triumphal arch to bliss they passed. While beam'd their names upon the sacred page. Writ by those holy hands that once were nail'd By sinful man to Calvary's purple cross; Whose sacred blood the world's free pardon sign'd. And heaven re-purchased to the blest redeem'd. Then came the mighty army on of those Who sufFer'd martyrdom for heaven. From the four quarters of the world they came. Of every age, of kindred, people, tongue ; The old, enfeebled, tottering to the grave ; Snatch'd hence away before his sands were run. The young, the tender, innocent of crime, Cropt like the flower before its fragrance bloom. Yet far the greater part from those dark regions came. Where on his Moloch throne the Dragon reign'd. And crush'd the world beneath his cruel law : Who bid the crimson'd sword stalk forth unshcath'd, A bloody pestilence, through all the land ; — Who lit the flames of fierce consuming fires. And on the burning piles accursed altars raised : And ofler'd up to heaven's insulted King Ten thousand saints a sacrifice to hell ; — Who taught the rack, the screw, the wheel, to stretch 2 c 2 404 MOUNT SION. The trembling nerves, to crush the mangled limbs; — Who fix'd the torture, hellish engine, invented By the devil, to tear the quivering flesh. To lacerate each member, and destroy The image of the Maker iu his wounded Creature man; — who persecuted unto death All those who would not purchase life with wealth, And enter by the gates that he kept bolted fast. And stood the toll collector in the road to bliss : Who had discover'd for themselves in God's Most holy book, in God's most holy laws, A nearer and a better way to heaven. On these devoted followers of the Lamb, The war of extirpation fierce he waged. With cruel vengeance and ungovern'd hate ; Yet still they worshipp'd God in purity of heart. Unmindful of the Dragon's fiendish rage. They stood unaw'd 'mid tortures, flames, and death. And bid defiance to his hellish power; Whose keenest malice only could enthral The mortal frame, and rob it of its life. Yet left the soul unhurt, with glory clothed. To wing its way triumphant to the skies. They lived rejoicing in the Saviour's love. They died rejoicing in the hope of heaven. The holy contract with their blood was writ. And by their death the bond of faith was seal'd : They read the deed recorded in the skies. The heavenly kingdom gain'd, and life immortal won. MOUNT SIGN. 405 Then pass'd the congregated millions on, Of Saints, who lived upon the teeming earth. From Time's first record to its final hour ; Who kept the faith, and worshipp'd God aright; Who lived a life of penitence and prayer. Of humble meekness, lively faith, and love ; Who died a righteous and triumphant death, With hope immortal crown'd of everlasting life. Not many rich, not many great were found, ^Mid the celestial throng ; yet some there were Who bow'd the knee, and worshipp'd God the Lord, With holy fear, and humble, contrite hearts. Meek followers of the Lamb, made spotless, pure. In the first resurrection they arose. With all the souls redeem'd, a sinless host. To tread the courts of heaven's celestial realms. Some kings were there, and great men of the earth. Yet far the greater part had erring gone The downward road to everlasting wo. Heaven was too high for them to climb, cumber'd With all their load of empire, pomp, and power. The gate of Sion's Hill too narrow, too confined. For all their haughty, swelling pride, to pass. In its full tide of dazzling splendour, through. The portal archway to celestial life. Too low for them who tost their heads on high ; Whose necks were iron, and whose sinews brass; Who would not stoop, who could not bow the knee; Whose hearts disdain'd this humble way to heaven ; Whose stubborn pride made them ashamed to pray, 2c3 406 MOUNT SION. Ashamed to own their God, their Saviour too. These turn'd their backs on Sion's holy Hill, And headlong hurried down the road to death. Where endless torments seiz'd their rebel souls. And every name within the book was writ^ And every eye anticipating heaven. Beheld the blissful record graven there. Their righteous sentences were writ in gold. And blazon'd round by truth's eternal beams : " Well done ye holy, faithful, spotless souls. Who wash'd your sins away in Jesus' blood ; Triumphant enter to eternal rest. And reign with Christ in glory evermore." And every voice, with hallelujahs sweet. Caught up the glorious theme, and loud proclaim'd The joyful transports of each rapt'rous soul jRedeem'd from sin, and now for ever blest. The banners of the sky were all unfuri'd. While light empyreal beam'd on all around. Onward they moved amid the glorious blaze, Angels, Patriarchs, Prophets, Martyrs, Saints, Tuning their harps to harmony divine, [tongues. While songs of praise flow'd from their heaven-taught Ten thousand times ten thousand minstrels sweet. With golden harps to rapt'rous music pitch'd. Bid welcome to the paradise of God, The saints all holy, spotless, undefiled. No tongue was silent in that concert vast. No harp an useless ornament unstrung. No trumpet there unblown — with thrilling blasts. MOUNT SION The joyful hallelujahs of the Lamb : And Jesus, smiling, bid them welcome come. And safe for ever in his bosom dwell. There singing, praising, worshipping, adoring. The Saviour, conqueror of death and hell. The God Omnipotent, high over all. Till lasts Eternity that knows no end. The golden sceptre, sway'd by Mercy's power. Had floated onward down the wreck of time : In twain was broke by Heaven's Omniscient will. And launch'd amid the raging furnace blasts. That rack'd each rebel soul to darkness driven ; While deepest curses fann'd the subtle fires. And forged it to a ponderous bolt Of sevenfold adamant, colossal, strong. That barr'd the gates of hell for ever down. The Sword of Justice, terrible as hell. And sharper than death's keenest pangs, Th' eternal Saviour grasp'd in his right hand. Upon its glittering form he cast a look. And flashing lightnings from its edges burst; While round its bossments issued clouds of smoke. That blackly, darkly roll'd, with mingling fire. From out his hand the Saviour bid it go. And straight it rose impeli'd by power divine, A fiery meteor circling all the skies. AVith swift career, it flaming, smoking flew. Till all consumed its lightnings ceased to blaze-^ The Judgment o'er, and Justice all expired. 407 408 MOUNT SION. Then from the heavens a dazzling glory came. And rested on the congregated throng. At once in shining robes array'd they stood, Dropt like Elijah's mantle from the skies. In heaven's bright panoply, unsullied, pure. Each happy sou! was wrapt j while speechless joy. For one short while, was seal'd on ev'ry tongue. Then rapturous transports broke the silence deep. And all the heavenly choirs their voices raised. And woke again the soul-inspiring theme Of man's redemption and a world restored. The death triumphant of the saints they sung. Their heavenly birthday to eternal life; The coronation of the sons of God, Made princes, kings, with dazzling glory crown'd : Transcendent honours and immortal joy. Then open'd wide the bright celestial gates. Th' eternal gates on golden hinges turn'd. While dulcet music, sweet as angel's song. Around the throne on ev'ry side transpired. Through the wide vista pour'd a flood of light, A sea of glory boundless over all ; And ev'ry seraph veil'd with beaming wings His radiant face ; and ev'ry saint his Shining visage hid beneath his spotless robes. Beyond the crystal gates that oped within The blest abodes, in gorgeous prospects rose. Further than seraph's piercing eye could gaze. Or angel's wings traverse — where palaces, and domfes MOUNT SION. 409 And glittering thrones, led to the mount of God, And glories burn'd 'mid glories evermore. Through the wide arch triumphantly they throng'd. While winged cherubs heralded the way. AVearing their crowns, they went rejoicing on, Array'd in vestures of unsullied truth ; And waving high their palms of victory. With one accord, they shouted " Glory to the Lamb !" And all the blest that dwell around his throne. Back answer'd singing " Glory to the Lamb !" Then open'd heaven on their enraptured view — A boundless, shoreless, measureless immense Of endless, changeless, and unfading bliss; Where happy souls the full fruition found Of pure delight and everlasting joy. Not seraph's tongue, save to a seraph's ear. Could tell the glories of that blest abode. Or e'er recount the joys of heaven's redeem'd. Whose sinless souls with thrilling joy o'erflow'd. Such as ethereal essences can feel, Uncumber'd with the load that life sustain'd ; When from the dazzling battlements of heaven They saw, far down the bottomless abyss. The wicked hurl'd 'mid torments evermore. The dire convulsion of a burning world. They witness'd from the skies ; heard the fierce Howlings of the damn'd ; and saw the curling Flames engulp them down in its sulphureous flood, 'Mid endless, changeless, everlasting wo : AVhile they, redeem'd from sin, securely stood 410 MOUNT SION. Within the holy paradise of bliss. And claim'd Mount Sion as their heavenly home. A joy of ceaseless gratitude was theirs. Made citizens of heaven's celestial hill. Partakers made of heaven's eternal bliss. Joint heirs with seraphim and angels there, Copartners in the paradise of peace, Crown'd kings and princes, made the sons of God. A joy was theirs of holy, filial love. Where mothers, fathers, met each other there ; Where brothers, sisters, parents, children, join'd, Embracing, greeting, welcomed home to heaven. Long lost, long separate in the world below. They wept, they mourn'd, when snatch'd away by death ; Sorrowing, they follow'd to the silent grave The clay-cold remnant of a son beloved. Around the open'd tomb they stood, bow'd down By grief intense — a family bereav'd — While tears of sorrow roU'd from weeping eyes. Fast dropping on (he bier of her they loved. And mourn'd a daughter, sister dear, robb'd of Life's brightest hours, and summons'd to the grave. Children their parents mourn'd, when death struck down The father, mother, honour'd, fear'd, and loved ; And marr'd with his cold icy signet pale Their form revered, and snatch'd them from their sight. Orphans bereft in a strange world, unpitied And alone, they sorrow'd, sigh'd, and wept ; MOUNT sioy. 411 Yet Hope, bright day-star 'mid the storms of life. Pointed the mourners to the throne of grace : While Faith, with holy confidence, drew up The veil that mark'd the boundaries of time. And snatch'd a glance at glories unreveai'd. Here Hope and Faith, bright heralds on to death. Are lost in full enjoyment of eternal life : Where tears are wiped away from ev'ry eye ; Where parents, children, relatives, and friends. Unite to celebrate the bliss of heaven, In transports of parental, filial joy. Theirs was a joy of adoration, wonder. Fear, and love — pure as the essence of a Ransom'd soul. Of adoration to the Eternal God, and to his Son eternal Homage paid ; while singing-, praising, worshipping. Adoring, the Triune Deity — heaven's Glorious King, whom angels, seraphs, saints. Unite to celebrate with endless praise. And songs of ceaseless joy. A joy of wonder. Admiration, awe, inspired each blessed Intelligence that worshipp'd round the throne; While they, with angel powers, contemplated The wisdom and omnipotence of God — His wisdom, deep, unsearchable, immense. And boundless as th' eternity it fill'd ; Who from confusion and disorder call'd A lovely universe of shining worlds. And bid them run their glorious circuits round, AVhile time's sweet music prompted them to roll ; — 412 MOUNT SION. AA ho built the blessed paradise of heaven. And peopled it with souls, bright images Of his own essence pure ; — who took from time The charter of its date, and roll'd it back Into eternity from whence it sprung ; — AVhose wisdom and omnipotence divine Ordain'd, directed, guided, govern'd all. For his own glory and his creatures' good. Of Love theirs was a joy — celestial. Heavenly joy — for all the mercies, goodness. Bounteous love, by Providence bestow'd ; That o'er them watch'd, and round them spread its safe Protecting power, and still prescrv'd them Free from ill, from danger free, and free from sin ; — That blest them on through life, blest them in death. And still was near to bless them in that joyful hour, "When Jesus, smiling, welcomed them to heaven. Theirs was a joy of Fear — of holy fear. And reverential awe — such as obedient Children bear to parents whom they love; For the Eternal Majesty and power Of lieaven's Omnipotent, who doom'd the "S^ ickcd in his wrath divine to endless Torments and increasing wo, and shut Them from his glorious presence out, T\"ith rebel angels in the pit of hell. A joy was theirs of intellectual bliss. Where saints and angels held communion sweet. And talk'd of heaven, and happiness, and God ; While wrapt in transports of supreme delight. MOUNT SIO.V. 413 They view'd the glories of their blrst abode, The heiglit, the depth, th' immensity of hiavcn, '\^'ith brialit intelligences peopled, thiong'd. Inhabitants of other worlds than this. And holy soul.-, from tv'ry sin ledeern'd. In sweet communion mingled there, Where dwelt eternal harmony and love. From angel-tongues they learntthe myst'ries of the sky. Told in the music eloquence of heaven. And heard, with souls transported into joy, Th' eternal providence of God revf.al'd To all the blessed round hi^ holy throne, BowM down by the clay tenement of time. The shackled soul in vain essay'd to soar. But flutter'd feebly round the lower world ; Till, wearied with its load, it sunk amid the dust. Exhausted and opp^ess'd,^'.lule all seem'd dark around. When trials, troubles, and afflictions came, It saw not, knew not, they were m6ant for good. When the mysterious providence of God Frown'd darkly o'er their heads, they saw not the Sweet smile that heaven beneath it hid, nor knew Like erring children they, that every chastisement By Him ordain'd, w^vc chastisements of love. Yet here at last, when welcomed home to bliss, Th' unprison'd souls like tow'ring eagles soar. And launch away into the heights of love. Where wisdom sits dispensing blessings round. From her pure fountains, the aspiring soul With transport drinks celestial knowledge in ; 414 MOUNT SIOX. And rising higher, with faculties enlarged. It views the glorious providence of heaven, So dark before, now to its opening sense. With rising splendour bright, unfolding all In beauteous order, perfectly design'd ! From the small atom lost in depths of space. To space that knows no bounds, absorbing alL From link to link he traces up the cause For which it was created and ordain'd j While all the rising faculties of soul^ Endow'd with thoughts that wing infinity; With apprehensions fraught that grasp the heavens' Eternal realms ; and bright imaginations That contain the universe of worlds : Conceives the end and aim of ev'ry grand design ! Into the hidden mysteries of things. The soul delighted roves : eternity and time. And life and death — heaven, earth, and hell^ The first creation, and the end of all — Vile man's redemption from the thrall of sin — The resurrection to eternal life — The judgment day — the blessed and the damn'd — His comprehensive faculties embrace. Grasps his exalted soul the vast sublime. Divides, compares, and then combines the whole. Through all gradations, with a spirit's eye. He sees to harmony each system tuned j Where all the providence, the attributes Of Deity are shown in all his works. In all his works his goodness is display'd. MOUNT SION. 415 His wisdom, power, omnipotence, and love : Till lost in wonder, admiration, awe. The soul enraptured silently adored. Theirs was a joy that heighten'd heaven, Increasing all its brightest glories there; When in the company of that blest host. Heaven's holy family of brothers, sisters. Fathers, parents, friends, together bound In sweet embrace with golden links of love j They holy converse held with happy beings. Exchanging thus the rich communion of souls ; While glorifying God — extolling thence His wisdom, goodness, majesty, and love ! Reposing there in bowers of heavenly bliss, O'ershadow'd by the tree of life, 'mid flowers That never fade, they pluck'd the fruits immortal. To regale their tastes refined ; or talk'd with Friends and relatives in love : while angels. Listening, delighted heard each blessed soul Relate the ways, till then mysterious. By God ordain'd to save their ransomed souls — His love to them, vile rebels lost in sin. While hurrying downward to the pit of wo — His spirit striving with their stubborn hearts. And wooing them to yield and let him in. That he might cleanse from sin and make them free ; His mercy still with justice pleading strong. Prevailing oft, and melting into love. While still the heart was hard and unsubdued. Then mercy yielding, justice had its sway. 416 MOUNT SION. And shower'fl its judgments on them rebels down. Then persecutions came, and wars, and strife; Then trials, troubles, sickness came, and pain. Hunger and thirst, and poverty and wo. Bereavements sore and losses pierc'd the heart. While angry heaven frown'd dark on ev'ry side : Then came the tempter with his luring wiles. And laid his snares to catch th' afflicted soul. Yet mercy still, and love, were ever near, Array'd in robes dipp'd in the Saviour's blood. Upon the troubled soul their smiles beam'd peace, "While pointing to the cross, where th' incarnate Deity, in holy warfare, triumph'd O'er the powers of darkness and of hell. And won each rebel soul with blood divine. Constrain'd at length, in gratitude for all This wond'rous love, to yield the heart to Him; To be resign'd, and to his mercy bow ; To give up ev'ry soul-besetting sin. Repenting truly with a contrite heart. Submissive, humble, prostrate in the dust: Following the path the Saviour trod. And bearing still the cross the Saviour bore. Led on by grace divine; while faith and hope. With wings celestial, bore the soul redeem'd Above life's storms, and wafted it to bliss. Where glory crown'd it with eternal joy — Heaven's brightest prize, its rich and great reward ! Thus, with communion sweety angels and MOUNT SION. 417 Saints convers'd, while mingling sentiments and souls. They spoke of heaven, and happiness, and God. Perfect in bliss,, in happiness, and joy; In wisdom perfect, holiness, and love. Theirs was a joy to know, conceive, and feel, That every joy perpetually increased. Brought still a joy more thrilling, more divine, A sweeter taste of pure ecstatic bliss : From the wrapt seraph to th' adoring saint. All in their stations perfect, happy, pure ! Their perfect souls enlarging yet will grow More perfect, more refined, more glorious still. In knowledge, wisdom, holiness, and love ; Increasing as Eternity rolls on. Like the vast ocean that absorbs the whol^. For ever filling, yet for ever full ! And is there yet a joy unnumber'd still. Amid the joys of heaven ? There is a joy Unnumber'd yet, where joys eternal dwell. The pure, transcendent bliss, that beaming Radiates from that joy divine, would take A seraph's tongue eternity to tell — Would fill an angel's powers that joy to sing. ^Tis the sweet concord and the harmony Of souls — 'tis heaven-born Charity, that dweUs In ev'ry heart, expanding, kindling into Boundless Love — 'tis the thrice holy tie, that Binds affection's golden chains round the vast Circle of Eternity : where kindred links 2i> 418 MOUNT SIGN. Unite into one family divine Saint, Seraph, Angel— THE Eternal God— "Where all is peace, and harmony, and joy ! And now methought, with awful wonder fiU'd, On Pisgah's top I low adoring bow'd ; While o'er my soul the mighty vision pass'd. That with its grandeur overwhelm'd the world ! The glorious triumph of th' Eternal King — The righteous judgment of the holy dead. To heaven invited by a Saviour's smile — The awful sentence pass'd on wicked men — The earth destroyed — the heavens created new- Hell seal'd for ever fast, and Paradise restored ! THE END. b »7^ DONCASTER: PRINTEn BV BROOKE AND CO. HIGH-STREET =11? mm^i^ iZ5V§ i ;OF-CAllF0ff^ 4s: ^5,^tUNlV£K5/^ -n UNIVERJ// ' ''^^^^'"""^-'^ ^.^OJIIVJJO'^ v^lOSMfl% _^ jivi^ V(?j^avnain'^ ^li ^lOSANCEtfXA %a3AiNflmv^ V!R%. v^-ANCEl% ^/SMAINfl-lWV^ ^lUBRARY^/- § 1 ir^ ^ ^ ^OJIIVS UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FAClurj^ AA 000 381 139 5 OFCAUfOs ^