THE LIBRARY 
 
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 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
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 Z 6 P H 1 E L.
 
 LONDON? 
 
 C. AND W. REYXELL, PRINTERS, BROAD STREET, GOLDEN SQUARE.
 
 Z6PHIEL; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE BRIDE OF SEVEN. 
 
 MARIA DEL OCCIDENTE. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 R. J. KENNETT, 59 GREAT QUEEN STREET, 
 LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS. 
 
 1833.
 
 PS 
 
 TO 
 
 ROBERT SOUTHEY, ESQ. 
 
 OH ! laurel'd bard, how can I part, 
 Those cheering smiles no more to see, 
 
 Until my soothed and solaced heart 
 Pours forth one grateful lay to thee ? 
 
 Fair virtue tuned thy youthful breath, 
 And peace and pleasure bless thee now ; 
 
 For love and beauty guard the wreath 
 That blooms upon thy manly brow. 
 
 The Indian, leaning on his bow, 
 
 On hostile cliff, in desert drear, 
 Cast with less joy his glance below, 
 
 When came some friendly warrior near ; 
 
 The native dove of that warm isle 
 
 Where oft, with flowers, my lyre was drest, 
 Sees with less joy the sun awhile 
 
 When vertic rains have drenched her nest, 

 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 Than I, a stranger, first beheld 
 
 Thine eye's harmonious welcome given 
 With gentle word which, as it swell'd, 
 
 Came to my heart benign as heaven. 
 
 Soft be thy sleep as mists that rest 
 On Skiddaw's top at summer morn; 
 
 Smooth be thy days as Derwent's breast, 
 When summer light is almost gone ! 
 
 And yet, for thee why breathe a prayer ? 
 
 I deem thy fate is given in trust 
 To seraphs, who by daily care, 
 
 Would prove that heaven is not unjust. 
 
 And treasured shall thine image be 
 In memory's purest, holiest shrine, 
 
 While truth and honour glow in thee, 
 Or life's warm quivering pulse is mine. 
 
 Keswick, April 18, 1831.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 IN finishing Zophiel, the writer has endeavoured to ad- 
 here entirely to that belief (once prevalent among the 
 fathers of the Greek and Roman churches), which sup- 
 poses that the oracles of antiquity were delivered by 
 daemons or fallen angels, who wandered about the earth, 
 formed attachments to such mortals as pleased them best, 
 and caused themselves, in many places, to be adored as 
 divinities. 
 
 In endeavouring to give authority for the incidents of 
 the story, all quotations from the sacred writings have 
 been scrupulously avoided ; and the beings introduced 
 are to be considered only as Phoebus, Zephyr, &c. under 
 other names. 
 
 Most of the systems of ancient philosophy, either 
 Western or Oriental, suppose beings similar to the angels 
 of the fathers, and differ from the Mosaic account only in
 
 vili PREFACE. 
 
 being more full and explicit. Justin Martyr and others 
 supposed that even Homer borrowed from Hebraic 
 records and traditions, and found in his writings the 
 creation of the world, the tower of Babel, and the angels 
 cast out of heaven. Hesiod's beautiful allegory of 
 "Love calling order from chaos,"* may, it is said, be 
 traced to the same source. 
 
 The fact of the actual existence of such beings as 
 angels are represented, it is for others to question : ac- 
 cording to all that is related of them, they are creatures 
 superior in power, but endued with wishes and propen- 
 sities nearly resembling those of mortals ; and, in their 
 attributes, corresponding almost entirely with those 
 deities which they are thought, by the fathers, to have 
 personated, and which have ever been a subject for 
 poetry and fable. 
 
 * Vide Brocket's Historia Philosophize.
 
 CANTO FIRST. 
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS.
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Invocation. Birth and description of Egla. Egla, alone in her Grove 
 of Acacias, is visited by Sephora, relates an event that took place 
 in her childhood, and reluctantly consents to receive Meles in 
 marriage. Zophiel sees Egla asleep and becomes enamoured of 
 her. Egla is wedded to Meles, and retires to the bridal chamber. 
 Zophiel presents himself to Egla, offers her jewels, declares him- 
 self her lover, and accuses Meles of crimes. Egla becomes afraid 
 and refuses to listen to Zophiel, who disappears. Meles enters, 
 approaches the couch, and dies suddenly.
 
 CANTO FIRST. 
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 
 
 I. 
 SHADE of Columbus, here thy relics rest ; 
 
 Here, while these numbers to the desert ring, 
 The self-same breeze that passes o'er thy breast, (1) 
 
 Salutes me, as with panting heart, I sing. 
 
 II. 
 
 Madoc ! my ancient father's bones repose 
 
 Where their bold harps thy country's bards en- 
 wreathed; (2) 
 And this warm blood once coursed the veins of those 
 
 Who flourished where thy first faint sigh was breathed. 
 
 Heroes departed both, if still ye love 
 
 These realms to which on earth, ye oped the way, 
 Amid the joys that crown your deeds, above, 
 
 One moment pause and deign to bless my lay !
 
 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 Spirits, who hovered o'er Euphrates' stream, 
 When the first beauteous mother of our race 
 
 First oped her mild eyes to the new light-beam, 
 And in the lucid wave first saw her own fair face : 
 
 Did then yon ocean, in its bosom press 
 These western solitudes ? or are they new 
 
 Only to men ? Was this sweet wilderness, 
 This distant world, then visited by you ? 
 
 If ye then knew; or haply, if ye here 
 
 Come wandering now, oh, listen ! nor refuse 
 
 Your unseen harps a moment to my ear ; 
 
 Of one like you I'd sing : whisper my trembling muse 1 
 
 Rest in my wild retreat ! The solar fires 
 
 Tell on this glowing cheek their fervid powers ; 
 
 Yet 'tis the ocean's breath my lip respires 
 
 Grown fragrant in its course o'er thousand shrubs and 
 flowers. 
 
 VII. 
 The time has been ; this holiest records tell, 
 
 When restless spirits raised a war in heaven ; 
 Great was the crime, and banished thence they fell 
 
 To depths unknown ; yet kept the potence, given
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 
 
 For nobler use, to tempt the hapless race 
 
 Of feeble mortals, that but form a grade 
 'Twixt spirits and the courser of the chase, 
 
 Man, thing of heaven and earth, why, thou wert made, 
 
 Ev'n spirits knew not 1 yet they loved to sport 
 With thy mysterious mind ; and lent their powers, 
 
 The good to benefit, the ill to hurt. 
 
 Dark fiends assailed thee, in thy dangerous hours, 
 
 But better angels thy far perils eyed ; 
 
 And often, when in heaven they might have stayed, 
 Came down to watch by some just hero's side, 
 
 Or meet the aspiring love of some high-gifted maid. 
 
 VIII. 
 Blest were those days ! Can these dull ages boast 
 
 Aught to compare ? though now no more beguile, 
 Chained in their darkling depths, the infernal host ;* 
 
 Who would not brave a fiend to share an angel's smile ? 
 
 * From the cessation of oracles, at the death of the Founder of 
 our religion, the old Christian fathers inferred that the demons who 
 uttered them, were at that time confined,
 
 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 IX. 
 'Twas then there lived a captive Hebrew pair; 
 
 In woe the embraces of their youth had past ; 
 And blest their paler years one daughter ; fair 
 
 She flourished, like a lonely rose, the last 
 
 And loveliest of her line. The tear of joy, 
 The early love of song, the sigh that broke 
 
 From her young lip, the best beloved employ ; 
 What womanhood disclosed, in infancy bespoke 
 
 X. 
 
 A child of passion : tenderest and best 
 
 Of all that heart has inly loved and felt, 
 Adorned the fair enclosure of her breast : 
 
 Where passion is not found, no virtue ever dwelt. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Yet, not, perverted, would my words imply . 
 
 The impulse given by Heaven's great Artisan 
 Alike to man and worm, mere spring, whereby 
 
 The distant wheels of life, while time endures, roll on ; 
 
 But the collective attributes that fill, 
 
 About the soul, their all-important place; 
 
 That feed her fires, empower her fainting will, 
 And write the God on feeble mortal's face.
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 7 
 
 XII. 
 
 Yet anger, or revenge, envy or hate, 
 
 The damsel knew not : when her bosom burned 
 
 And injury darkened the decrees of fate, 
 
 She had more piteous sighed to see that pain returned. 
 
 XIII. 
 Or if, perchance, though formed most just and pure, 
 
 Amid their virtue's wild luxuriance hid, 
 Such germs, all mortal bosoms must immure 
 
 Which sometimes show their poisonous heads, unbid, 
 
 If, haply such the fair Judean finds, 
 
 Self knowledge wept the abasing truth to know ; 
 And innate Pride, that queen of noble minds, 
 
 Crushed them indignant ere a bud could grow. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 And such, even now, in earliest youth are seen ; 
 
 But would they live, with armour more deform 
 Their breasts made soft by too much love must screen : 
 
 " The bird that sweetest sings can least endure the 
 storm." 
 
 XV. 
 And yet, despite of all, the starting tear, 
 
 The melting tone, the blood suffusive, proved, 
 The soul that in them spoke, could spurn at fear 
 
 Of death or danger ; and had those she loved
 
 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 Required it at their need, she could have stood, 
 Unmoved, as some fair-sculptured statue, while 
 
 The dome that guards it earth's convulsions rude 
 Are shivering, meeting ruin with a smile. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 And this at intervals in language bright 
 
 Told her blue eyes ; though oft the tender lid 
 
 Drooped like a noon-day lily, languid, white 
 And trembling all save love and lustre hid; 
 
 Then, as young Christian bard had sung, they seemed 
 Like some Madonna in his soul, so sainted ; 
 
 But opening in their energy they beamed 
 As tasteful Grecians their Minerva painted ; 
 
 While o'er her graceful shoulder's milky swell, 
 Silky as those on little children seen, 
 
 Yet thick as Indian fleece her ringlets fell, 
 Nor owned Pactolus' sands a brighter sheen. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 And now, full near, the hour unwished for drew, 
 When fond Sephora hoped to see her wed ; 
 
 And, for 'twould else expire, impatient grew 
 To renovate her race from beauteous Egla's bed.
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 None of their kindred lived to claim her hand, 
 But stranger-youths had asked her of her sire 
 
 With gifts and promise fair : he could withstand 
 All save her tears ; and harkening her desire 
 
 Still left her free ; but soon her mother drew 
 From her a vow, that when the twentieth year* 
 
 Its full fair finish o'er her beauty threw, 
 If what her fancy fed on, came not near, 
 
 She would entreat no more, but to the voice 
 
 Of her light-giver hearken ; and her life 
 And love, all yielding to that kindly choice, 
 
 Would hush each idle wish and learn to be a wife. 
 
 XVIII. 
 Now oft it happ'd, when morning task was done, 
 
 And lotted out, for every household maid, 
 Her light and pleasant toil ; ere yet the sun 
 
 Was high, fair Egla to a woody shade, 
 
 * Twenty years, among the Spartans, was the age required by 
 the law for the marriage of women ; and in whatever climate they 
 may live, it is seldom that they attain their full height and pro- 
 portion before that age. If this custom of the Spartans could be 
 everywhere observed, it is probable the strength and beauty of the 
 race would be improved by it.
 
 10 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 
 
 Loved to retire. Acacias here inclined 
 
 Their friendly heads, in thick profusion, planted, 
 
 And with a thousand tendrils clasped and twined ; 
 And when at fervid noon all nature panted, 
 
 Enwoven with their boughs, a fragrant bower 
 
 Inviting rest its mossy pillow flung ; 
 And here the full cerulean passion-flower, 
 
 Climbing among the leaves, its mystic symbols hung. (3) 
 
 XIX. 
 
 And though the sun had gained his utmost height, 
 
 Just as he oped its vivid folds at dawn, 
 Looked still, that tenderest, frailest child of light, 
 
 By shepherds named " the glory of the morn." 
 
 XX. 
 
 Sweet flower, thou'rt lovelier even than the rose : 
 The rose is pleasure, felt and known as such 
 
 Soon past, but real, tasted, while it glows ; 
 But thou, too bright and pure for mortal touch, 
 
 Art like those brilliant things we never taste 
 Or see, unless with Fancy's lip and eye, 
 
 When maddened by her mystic spells, we waste 
 Life on a thought, and rob reality.
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 11 
 
 XXI. 
 Here, too, the lily raised its snow-white head ; 
 
 And myrtle leaves, like friendship, when sincere, 
 Most sweet when wounded, all around were spread j 
 And though from noon's fierce heat the wild deer fled, 
 
 A soft warm twilight reigned impervious here. 
 
 XXII. 
 Tranquil and lone in such a light to be, 
 
 How sweet to sense and soul ! the form recline 
 Forgets it e'er felt pain ; and Reverie, 
 
 Sweet mother of the muses, heart and soul are thine !* 
 
 XXIII. 
 This calm retreat on summer day she sought, 
 
 And sat to tune her lute ; but all night long 
 Quiet had from her pillow flown, and thought, 
 
 Feverish and tired, sent forth unseemly throng 
 
 " It is impossible for those who never felt it, to conceive the 
 effect of such a situation in a warm climate. In this island, the 
 woods, which are naturally so interwoven with vines, as to be 
 impervious to a human being, are, in some places, cleared and 
 converted into nurseries, for the young coffee-trees, which remain 
 sheltered from the sun and wind, till sufficiently grown to transplant. 
 To enter one of these " semilleros," as they are here called, at 
 noonday, produces an effect like that anciently ascribed to the 
 waters of Lethe. After sitting down upon the trunk of a fallen 
 cedar or palm-tree, and breathing for a moment the freshness of 
 the air and the odour of the passion-flower, which is one of the
 
 12 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 Of boding images. She scarce could woo 
 One song reluctant, ere advancing quick 
 
 Through the fresh leaves, Sephora's form she knew, 
 And duteous rose to meet : but fainting, sick, 
 
 Her heart sank tremulously in her ; why 
 Sought out at such an hour, it half divined ; 
 
 And seated now beside, with downcast eye, 
 And throbbing pulse she met the pressure kind, 
 
 And warmly given; while thus the matron fair, 
 
 Though marred by grief and time, with soothing word, 
 
 Solicitous, and gently serious air, 
 The purpose why she hither came preferr'd. 
 
 most abundant, and certainly the most beautiful of the climate ; 
 the noise of the trees, which are continually kept in motion by the 
 trade winds ; the fluttering and various notes (though not musical) 
 of the birds ; the loftiness of the green canopy, for the trunks of 
 the trees are bare to a great height, and seem like pillars supporting 
 the thick mass of leaves above ; and the soft peculiar light which 
 the intense ray of the sun, thus impeded, produces ; have altogether 
 such an effect, that one seems involuntarily to forget everything 
 but the present, and it requires a strong effort to rise and leave 
 the place.
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 13 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " Egla, my hopes thou knowest, though exprest 
 Not oft, lest they should pain thee ; I have dealt 
 
 Not rudely with thy fancies, yet my breast 
 Retains the wish most vehemently felt. 
 
 " Know, I have marked that when the reason why 
 Thou still wouldst live in virgin state, thy sire 
 
 Has prest thee to impart, quick in thine eye 
 
 Semblance of hope has played ; fain to transpire, 
 
 " Words seemed to seek thy lip ; but the bright rush 
 Of heart-blood eloquent, alone would tell 
 
 In the warm language of a rebel blush 
 What thy less treacherous tongue had guarded well. 
 
 " Is the long frequent day spent lonely here ? 
 
 Or haply, rather, hath some stranger youth ? 
 Then Egla; see my heart!" " Oh, mother dear, 
 
 Distrust my wisdom ; but regard my truth ! 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 " Long time ago, while yet a twelve year's child, 
 These shrubs and vines new-planted near this spot, 
 
 I sat me, tired with pleasant toil, and whiled 
 Away the time, with lute ; and often thought
 
 14 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 " Of the lost land thou lovest ; every scene 
 
 Which thou so oft, when I had climbed thy knee, 
 
 Wouldst sing of, weeping, through my mind had been 
 In fair succession, when from yon old tree 
 
 " I heard a pitious moan. Wondering I went 
 
 And found an aged man ; worn and oppressed 
 He seemed with toil ; and said in whispers faint, 
 ' Oh, little maiden, how I am distrest ! 
 
 " ' I sink for very want. Give me, I pray, 
 A drop of water and a cake : I die 
 
 Of thirst and hunger; yet my sorrowing way 
 May tread once more, if thou my need supply.' 
 
 XXVII. 
 ** A long time missing from thy gentle arms, 
 
 It chanced that day was sent me, in the shade, 
 New bread, a cake of figs, and wine of palms,* 
 
 Mingled with water, sweet with honey made. 
 
 * "The palm is a very common plant in this country (Media), 
 and generally fruitful: this they cultivate like fig-trees, and it 
 produces them bread, wine, and honey." See Beloe's notes to his 
 translation of Herodotus. Mr Gibbon adds, that the diligent
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 15 
 
 XXVIII. 
 " These brought I to him ; tried to raise his head ; 
 
 Held to his lip the cup ; and, while he quaffed, 
 Upon my garment wiped the tears that sped 
 
 Adown his silvery beard, and mingled with the draught. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 " When, gaining sudden strength, he raised his hand, 
 And in this guise did bless me ; ' Mayst thou be 
 
 A crown to him who weds thee ! In a land 
 Far distant dwells a captive! Hearken me, 
 
 " ' And chuse thee now a bridegroom meet. To-day 
 O'er broad Euphrates' steepest banks a child 
 
 Fled from his youthful nurse's arms j in play 
 Elate, he bent him o'er the brink, and smiled 
 
 " ' To see their fears who followed him ; but who 
 The keen wild anguish of that scene can tell ! 
 
 He bent him o'er the brink ; and, in their view, 
 But ah ! too far beyond their aid, he fell. 
 
 natives celebrated, either in verse or prose, three hundred and 
 sixty uses to which the trunk, the branches, the leaves, the juice, 
 and the whole of this plant were applied. Nothing can be more 
 curious and nteresting than the natural history of the palm tree.
 
 16 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 " ' They wailed ; the long torn ringlets of their hair 
 Bestrewed the ambient gale ; deep rolled the stream 
 
 And swallowed the fair child ; no succour there ! * 
 They, women ; whither look ? who to redeem 
 
 * The women, among all the nations of antiquity, were ac- 
 customed to express violent grief, by tearing their hair. This 
 must have been a great and affecting sacrifice to the object bemoaned, 
 as they considered it a part of themselves, and absolutely essential 
 to their beauty. Fine hair has been a subject of commendation 
 among all people, and particularly the ancients. Cyrus, when he 
 went to visit his uncle Astyages, found him with his eyelashes 
 coloured and decorated with false locks ; the first Caesar obtained 
 permission to wear the laurel wreath, in order to conceal the bare- 
 ness of his temples. The quantity and beauty of the hair of 
 Absalom, is commemorated in holy writ. The modern oriental 
 ladies also set the greatest value on their hair, which they braid 
 and perfume. Thus the poet Hafiz, whom Sir William Jones styles 
 the Anacreon of Persia. 
 
 "These locks, each curl of which is worth a hundred musk-bags 
 of China, would be sweet indeed, if their scent proceeded from 
 sweetness of temper." 
 
 And again, " When the breeze shall waft the fragrance of thy 
 locks over the tomb of Hafiz, a thousand flowers shall spring from 
 out the earth that hides his corse." 
 
 Achilles clipped his yellow locks, and then threw them as a 
 sacrifice upon the funeral pyre of Patroclus. The women of the 
 Aborigines of America cut off locks of their long black hair, and 
 strew them upon the graves of their husbands.
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 17 
 
 " ' What the fierce waves were preying on ? When lo ! 
 
 Approached a stranger boy. Aside he flung, 
 Quick as a thought, his quiver and his bow, 
 
 And parted by his limbs the sparkling billows sung. 
 
 XXXI. 
 " ' They clung to an old palm and watched ; nor breath 
 
 Nor word dared utter ; while the refluent blood 
 Left on each countenance the hue of death, 
 
 Oped lip and far-strained eye spoke worse than death 
 endured. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 " ' But down the flood the dauntless boy appeared, 
 Now rising plugging in the eddy whirled 
 
 Mastering his course ; but now a rock he neared ; 
 
 And closing o'er his head, the dark, deep, waters curled. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 " ' Then Hope groaned forth her last, and to despair 
 
 Yielded with shrieks ; but ere the echo wild 
 Had ceased to thrill, restored to light and air, 
 
 He climbs, he gains the rock, and holds alive the child. 
 
 " ' Now mark what chanced ! that infant was the son 
 Of Babylon's great sovereign ; soon was placed 
 
 Before his throne the youth who so had won 
 From death the royal heir. A captive graced
 
 18 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 " ' All o'er with nature's gifts just dawning, brave, 
 And panting for renown, blushing and praised 
 
 The stripling stood ; and closely prest, would crave 
 Nought but a place mid warlike men ; yet raised 
 
 " ' To his full wish, the kingly presence leaving, 
 
 So light with airy hope, his graceful feet 
 Scarce touched the marble as he trod, while, heaving 
 With plans to please his sire, his heart more warmly 
 beat. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 " 'But when his mother heard, she wept, and said, 
 
 If he, our only child, be far away, 
 Or slain in war, how shall our years be stay'd ? 
 
 Friendless and old, where is the hand to lay 
 
 " ' Our white hairs in the earth ? So when her fears 
 He saw would not be calmed, he did not part ; 
 
 But lived in low estate to dry her tears, 
 
 And crush'd the full ripe wish at his exulting heart.' 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 " The old man ceased ; ere I could speak, his face 
 Grew more than mortal fair : a mellow light 
 
 Mantling around him, filled the shady place, 
 
 And while I wondering stood, he vanish'd from my 
 sight.
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 19 
 
 XXXVII. 
 " This I had told, but shame withheld, and fear 
 
 Thou'dst deem some spirit guiled me, disapprove, 
 Perchance forbid my customed wandering here.' 
 
 But whencesoe'er the vision, I have strove 
 
 " Still vainly to forget. I've heard thee mourn 
 Kindred afar, and captive : oh ! my mother 
 
 Should he, my heaven announced, exist, return 
 And meet me here, lost wedded to another !" 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Then thus Sephora : " In the city where 
 
 Our distant kindred dwelt, blood has been shed. 
 
 Fond dreamer, had thy visioned love been there ! 
 Ere now he's sleeping with the silent dead. 
 
 " Or doth he live, he knows not would not know, 
 (Thralled, dead to thee, in some fair Syrian's arms,) 
 
 Who pines for him afar in fruitless woe, 
 
 And wastes upon a thought love, life, and charms. 
 
 XL. 
 
 ' 'Tis as a vine of Galilee should say, 
 Culturer, I reck not thy support, I sigh 
 
 For a young palm tree of Euphrates ; nay, 
 Or let me him entwine, or in my blossom die.
 
 20 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 XLI. 
 " Thy heart is set on joys it ne'er can prove ; 
 
 And, panting ingrate, scorns the blessings given. 
 Hope not from dust-formed man, a seraph's love, 
 
 Or days on earth like to the days of heaven ! 
 
 "But to my theme; maiden, a lord for thee, 
 And not of thee unworthy, lives and glows. 
 
 Nay, chase the dread that in thy looks I see, 
 Nor make it task of auguish to disclose 
 
 " What well might be delight. Rememberest thou 
 When to the altar, by thy father reared, 
 
 As we went forth with sacrifice and vow, 
 A victim-dove escaped, and there appeared 
 
 " A stranger ? Quickly from his shrilly string 
 He let an arrow glance ; and to a tree 
 
 Nailed fast the little tenant, by the wing, 
 And brought it, scarcely bleeding, back to thee. 
 
 XLIII. 
 " His voice, his mien, the lustre of his eye, 
 
 And pretty deed he had done, were theme of praise 
 Though blent with fear that stranger should espy 
 
 Thy lonely haunts. When, in the sunny rays
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 21 
 
 ** He turned and went, with black locks clustering bright 
 
 Around his pillar neck, ' 'Tis pity he,' 
 Thou said'st, ' in all the comeliness and might 
 
 Of perfect man, 'tis pity he should be 
 
 " ' But an idolater ! How nobly sweet 
 He tempers pride with courtesy ! A flower 
 
 Drops honey when he speaks. His sandal'd feet 
 Are light as antelope. He stands, a tower.' 
 
 XLIV. 
 " That very stranger sought thy sire, and swore 
 
 For thee much love; that day conceived for thee, 
 To be a false idolater no more. 
 
 'Tis Meles, late returned from embassy 
 
 *',To distant courts, and loved by the young king 
 Of Media. Bethink thee, Egla ; muse 
 
 Upon the good, union like this may bring 
 On thee and thine. Yet, if thy soul refuse, 
 
 " We will not press thee. Weep, if 't be thy will, 
 Even on the breast that nourished thee, and ne'er 
 
 Distrest thee or compelled ; this bosom still, 
 
 E'en shouldst thou blight its dearest hopes, will share,
 
 22 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 " Nay, bear thy pains. But sooner in the grave 
 'Twill quench my waning years, if reckless thou 
 
 Of what I not command, but only crave, 
 Canst see me pine, and disregard thy vow. 
 
 XLV. 
 Then, Egla, " Think not, kindest, I forget, 
 
 Who have received such love, how much is due 
 From me to thee ! The Mede I'll wed : but yet 
 Why will these tears gush forth? thus in thy 
 presence too ! " 
 
 XL VI. 
 Sephora held her to her heart, the while 
 
 Grief had its way ; then saw her gently laid, 
 And bade her, kissing her blue eyes, beguile 
 
 Slumbering, the fervid noon. Her leafy bed 
 
 Breathed forth o'erpowering sighs ; increased the heat ; 
 
 Sleepless had been the night ; her weary sense 
 Could now no more. Lone in the still retreat, 
 
 Wounding the flowers to sweetness more intense 
 
 She sank. Thus kindly Nature lets our woe 
 Swell till it bursts forth from the o'erfraught breast ; 
 
 Then draws an opiate from the bitter flow, 
 And lays her sorrowing child soft in the lap of rest.
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 23 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Now all the mortal maid lies indolent ; 
 
 Save one sweet cheek, which the cool velvet turf 
 Had touched too rude, though all with blooms besprent, 
 
 One soft arm pillowed. Whiter than the surf 
 
 That foams against the sea-rock looked her neck 
 By the dark, glossy, odorous shrubs relieved, 
 That close inclining o'er her, seemed to reck 
 
 What 'twas they canopied ; and quickly heaved, (4) 
 
 Beneath her robe's white folds and azure zone, 
 Her heart yet incomposed ; a fillet through 
 
 Peeped softly azure, while with tender moan, 
 As if of bliss, Zephyr her ringlets blew 
 
 Sportive ; about her neck their gold he twined ; 
 
 Kissed the soft violet on her temples warm, 
 And eyebrow just so dark might well define 
 
 Its flexile arch ; throne of expression's charm. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 As the vexed Caspian, though its rage be past, 
 
 And the blue smiling heavens swell o'er in peace, 
 Shook to the centre by the recent blast, 
 
 Heaves on tumultuous still, and hath not power to ceast ;
 
 24 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 So still each little pulse was seen to throb, 
 Though passion and its pain were lulled to rest ; 
 
 And ever and anon a piteous sob 
 
 Shook the pure arch expansive e'er her breast.* 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 Save that, a perfect peace was, sovereign, there 
 O'er fragrance, sound, and beauty ; all was mute : 
 
 Only a dove bemoaned her absent phere, 
 Or fainting breezes swept the slumberer's lute. 
 
 L. 
 It chanced, that day, lured by the verdure, came 
 
 Zophiel, a spirit sometimes ill ; but ere 
 He fell, a heavenly angel. The faint flame 
 
 Of dying embers on an altar, where 
 
 Zoroh, fair Egla's sire, in secret bowed 
 And sacrificed to the great unseen God, (5) 
 
 While friendly shades the sacred rites enshroud, 
 The spirit saw; his inmost soul was awed, 
 
 * Everyone must have observed this effect in little children 
 who, for several hours after they have cried themselves to sleep, 
 and sometimes, even, when a smile is on their lips, are heard from 
 time to time to sob.
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 25 
 
 And he bethought him of the forfeit joys 
 
 Once his in Heaven ; deep in a darkling grot 
 
 He sat him down ; the melancholy noise 
 Of leaf and creeping vine accordant with his thought. 
 
 LI. 
 
 When fiercer spirits howled, he but complained (6) 
 Ere yet 'twas his to roam the pleasant earth. 
 
 His heaven-invented harp he still retained, 
 
 Though tuned to bliss no more ; and had its birth 
 
 Of him, beneath some black, infernal clift, 
 
 The first drear song of woe ; and torment wrung 
 
 The restless spirit less, when he might lift 
 His plaining voice, and frame the like as now he sung. 
 
 LII. 
 " Woe to thee, wild ambition! I employ 
 
 Despair's low notes thy dread effects to tell ; 
 Born in high Heaven, her peace thou couldst destroy ; 
 
 And, but for thee, there had not been a Hell. 
 
 " Through the celestial domes thy clarion pealed ; 
 
 Angels, entranced, beneath thy banners ranged, 
 And straight were fiends ; hurled from the shrinking field, 
 
 They waked in agony to wail the change.
 
 26 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 " Darting through all her veins the subtle fire, 
 The world's fair mistress first inhaled thy breath ; 
 
 To lot of higher beings learnt to aspire ; 
 
 Dared to attempt, and doomed the world to death. 
 
 " The thousand wild desires, that still torment 
 
 The fiercely struggling soul, where peace once dwelt, 
 
 But perished; feverish hope ; drear discontent, 
 Impoisoning all possest, Oh ! I have felt 
 
 " As spirits feel, yet not for man we mourn, 
 Scarce o'er the silly bird in state were he, 
 
 That builds his nest, loves, sings the morn's return, 
 And sleeps at evening ; save by aid of thee. 
 
 " Fame ne'er had roused, nor song her records kept ; 
 
 The gem, the ore, the marble breathing life, 
 The pencil's colours, all in earth had slept, 
 
 Now see them mark with death his victim's strife. 
 
 " Man found thee, death : but Death and dull decay, 
 Baffling, by aid of thee, his mastery proves ; 
 
 By mighty works he swells his narrow day, 
 And reigns, for ages, on the world he loves.
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 27 
 
 " Yet what the price ? With stings that never cease 
 Thou goad'st him on; and when too keen the 
 smart, 
 
 His highest dole he'd barter but for peace, 
 Food thou wilt have, or feast upon his heart." 
 
 LIU. 
 
 Thus Zophiel still, though now the infernal crew 
 Had gained, by sin, a privilege in the world, 
 
 Allayed their torments in the cool night dew, 
 And by the dim star-light again their wings un- 
 furled. 
 
 LIV. 
 
 And now, regretful of the joys his birth 
 Had promised, j deserts, mounts, and streams he 
 
 crost, 
 
 To find, amid the loveliest spots of earth, 
 Faint semblance of the heaven he had lost. 
 
 And oft, by unsuccessful searching pained, 
 Weary he fainted through the toilsome hours ; 
 
 And then his mystic nature he sustained 
 On steam of sacrifices, breath of flowers. (7)
 
 28 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Sometimes he gave out oracles, amused (8) 
 With mortal folly ; resting on the shrines, 
 
 Or, all in some fair Sybyl's form infused, 
 
 Spoke from her trembling lips, or traced her mystic 
 lines.* 
 
 LVII. 
 
 And now he wanders on from glade to glade 
 
 To where more precious shrubs diffuse their balms ; 
 
 And gliding through the thickly-woven shade 
 Where the soft captive lay in all her charms, 
 
 He caught a glimpse. The colours in her face, 
 Her bare white arms, her lips, her shining hair, 
 
 Burst on his view. He would have flown the place ; 
 Fearing some faithful angel rested there, 
 
 Who'd see him, 'reft of glory, lost to bliss, 
 
 Wandering, and miserably panting, fain 
 To glean a joy e'en from a place like this : 
 
 The thought of what he once had been was pain 
 
 The identity of Zophiel with Apollo will be perceived in this 
 and other passages.
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 29 
 
 Ineffable. But what assailed his ear ? 
 
 A sigh ! Surprised, another glance he took ; 
 Then doubting fearing gradual coming near 
 
 He ventured to her side and dared to look ; 
 
 Whispering, " Yes, 'tis of earth ! So, new-found life 
 Refreshing, looked sweet Eve, with purpose fell, 
 
 When first sin's sovereign gazed on her, and strife 
 Had with his heart, that grieved with arts of hell, 
 
 Stern as it was, to win her o'er to death. 
 
 Most beautiful of all in earth or heaven ! 
 " Oh, could I quaff for aye that fragrant breath ! 
 
 Couldst thou, or being like to thee, be given 
 
 " To bloom for ever for me thus ! Still true 
 To one dear theme, my full soul, flowing o'er, 
 
 Would find no room for thought of what it knew, 
 Nor picturing forfeit transport, curse me more. .(9) 
 
 LVIII. 
 " But, oh ! severest curse ! I cannot be 
 
 In what I love, blest e'en the little span] 
 (With all a spirit's keen capacity 
 
 For bliss) permitted the poor insect, man.
 
 30 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 LIX. 
 " The few I've seen, and deemed of worth to win, 
 
 Like some sweet floweret, mildewed in my arms, 
 Withered to hideousness as foul as sin," 
 
 Grew fearful hags ; and then, with potent charm 
 
 " Of muttered word and harmful drug, did learn 
 To force me to their will. Down the damp grave, 
 
 Loathing I went, at Endor, and uptorn, 
 Brought back the dead ; when tortured Saul did crave 
 
 " To view his lowering fate. Fair, nay, as this 
 Young slumberer, that dread witch ; when, I arrayed 
 
 In lovely shape, to meet my guileful kiss 
 
 She yielded first her lip. And thou, sweet maid 
 
 What is't I see ? a recent tear has strayed, 
 And left its stain upon her cheek of bliss. 
 
 " She has fall'n to sleep in grief; haply been chid, 
 Or by rude mortal wrongM. So let it prove 
 
 Meet for my purpose : 'mid these blossoms hid, 
 I'll gaze ; and when she wakes, with all that love 
 
 " And art can lend, come forth. He who would gain 
 A fond, full heart, in love's soft surgery skill'd, 
 
 Should seek it when 'tis sore ; allay its pain 
 With balm by pity prest: 'tis all his own so heal'd.
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 31 
 
 LXI. 
 " She may be mine a little year ; ev'n fair 
 
 And sweet as now. Oh ! respite ! while possest 
 I lose the dismal sense of my despair : 
 
 But then I will not think upon the rest ! 
 
 LXII. 
 
 " And wherefore grieve to cloud her little day * 
 Of fleeting life ? What doom from power divine 
 
 I bear eternally : pity away ! 
 
 Wake, pretty fly ! and, while thou mayst, be mine, 
 
 " 'Though but an hour ; so thou supply'st thy looms 
 With shining silk, and in the cruel snare 
 
 See'st the fond bird entrapped, but for his plumes, 
 To work thy robes, or twine amidst thy hair." 
 
 Lxni. 
 To whisper softly in her ear he bent, 
 
 But draws him back restrained : a higher power, 
 That loved her, and would keep her innocent, 
 
 Repelled his evil touch. And from her bower, 
 
 * Zophiel, being one of the angels who fell before the Creation 
 was completed, is not supposed to know anything of the immor- 
 tality of the souls of men.
 
 32 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 To lead the maid, Sephora comes ; the sprite, 
 Half baffled, followed, hovering on unseen, 
 
 Till Meles, fair to see and nobly dight, 
 Received his pensive bride. Gentle of mien, 
 
 She meekly stood. He fastened round her arms 
 Rings of refulgent ore ; low and apart 
 
 Murmuring, " So, beauteous captive, shall thy charms 
 For ever thrall and clasp thy captive's heart." 
 
 The air's light touch seemed softer as she moved, 
 In languid resignation ; his quick eye 
 
 Spoke in black glances how she was approved, 
 Who shrank reluctant from its ardency. 
 
 'Twas sweet to look upon the goodly pair \ 
 In their contrasted loveliness : her height 
 
 Might almost vie with his, but heavenly fair, 
 Of soft proportion she, and sunny hair; 
 
 He cast in manliest mould, with ringlets murk as night. 
 
 LXVI. 
 And oft her drooping and resigned blue eye 
 
 She'd wistful raise to read his radiant face ; 
 But then, why shrunk her heart ? a secret sigh 
 
 Told her it most required what there it could not trace.
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 33 
 
 LXVII. 
 Now fair had fall'n the night. The damsel mused 
 
 At her own window, in the pearly ray 
 Of the full moon j her thoughtful soul infused 
 
 Thus in her words j* left lone awhile to pray. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 " What bliss for her who lives her little day, 
 
 In blest obedience, like to those divine, 
 Who to her loved, her earthly lord can say, 
 
 ' God is thy law,' most just, ' and thou art mine.' 
 
 " To every blast she bends in beauty meek ; 
 Let the storm beat, his arms her shelter kind, 
 
 And feels no need to blanch her rosy cheek 
 With thoughts befitting his superior mind. 
 
 " Who only sorrows when she sees him pained, 
 Then knows to pluck away pain's keenest dart ; 
 
 Or bid Love catch it ere its goal be gained, 
 And steal its venom ere it reach his heart. 
 
 * Coelestes, or the moon, was adored by many of the Jewish 
 women, as well as the Carthaginians. They addressed their vows 
 to her, burnt incense, poured out drink offerings, and made cakes 
 for her with her own hands. This goddess is called, in scripture, 
 the Queen of Heaven. 
 
 D
 
 34 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 " "Tis the soul's food : the fervid must adore. 
 For this the heathen, unsufficed with thought, 
 
 Moulds him an idol of the glittering ore. 
 And shrines his smiling goddess, marble-wrought. 
 
 What bliss for her, ev'n in this world of woe, 
 
 Oh ! Sire who raak'st yon orb-strewn arch thy throne ; 
 
 That sees thee in thy noblest work below 
 Shine undefaced, adored, and all her own ! 
 
 This I had hoped ; but hope too dear, too great, 
 Go to thy grave ! I feel thee blasted, now. 
 
 Give me, fate's sovereign, well to bear the fate 
 Thy pleasure sends ; this, my sole prayer, allow !' 
 
 LXIX. 
 Still fixed on heaven, her earnest eye, all dew, 
 
 Seemed, as it sought amid the lamps of night, 
 The God her soul addressed ; but other viewi 
 
 Far different, sudden from that pensive plight 
 
 Recalled her : quick as on primeval gloom 
 Burst the new day-star when the Eternal bid, 
 
 Appeared, and glowing filled the dusky room, 
 As 'twere a brilliant cloud. The form it hid
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 35 
 
 Modest emerged, as might a youth beseem ; 
 
 Save a slight scarf, his beauty bare, and white 
 As cygnet's bosom on some silver stream ; 
 
 Or young Narcissus, when to woo the light 
 
 Of its first morn, that flow'ret open springs; 
 
 And near the maid he comes with timid gaze, 
 And gently fans her with his full-spread wings, 
 
 Transparent as the cooling gush that plays 
 
 From ivory fount. Each bright prismatic tint 
 Still vanishing, returning, blending, changing 
 
 About their tender mystic texture glint, 
 
 Like colours o'er the full-blown bubble ranging, 
 
 That pretty urchins launch upon the air, 
 And laugh to see it vanish ; yet, so bright, 
 
 More like and even that were faint compare, 
 As shaped from some new rainbow. Rosy light, 
 
 Like that which Pagans say the dewy car 
 Precedes of their Aurora, clipp'd him round, 
 
 Retiring as he moved ; and evening's star 
 Shamed not the diamond coronal that bound
 
 36 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 His curly locks. And, still to teach his face 
 Expression dear to her he wooed, he sought ; 
 
 And, in his hand, he held a little vase 
 
 Of virgin gold, in strange devices wrought. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 Love-toned he spoke ; " Fair sister, art thou here 
 With pensive looks, so near thy bridal bed, 
 
 Fixed on the pale cold moon? Nay, do not fear ! 
 To do thee weal, o'er mount and stream I've sped. 
 
 " Say, doth thy soul, in all its sweet excess, 
 
 Rush to this bridegroom, smooth and falsehood-taught ? 
 
 Ah, no ! thou yield' st thee to a feared caress ; 
 And struggles! with a heart that owns him not. 
 
 LXXII. 
 " Send back this Meles to Euphrates : there 
 
 Is no reluctance. Withering by that stream, 
 Tell him there droops a flower that needs his care. 
 
 But why, at such an hour, so base a theme ? 
 
 LXXIII. 
 " I'll tell thee secrets of the nether earth 
 
 And highest heaven ! Or dost some service crave ? 
 Declare thy bidding, best of mortal birth, 
 
 I'll be thy winged messenger, thy slave."
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 37 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 Then softly Egla : " Lovely being, tell, 
 
 In pity to the grief thy lips betray 
 The knowledge of say, with some kindly spell, 
 
 Dost come from heaven to charm my pains away ? * 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 " Alas ! what know'st thou of my plighted lord? 
 
 If guilt pollute him, as, unless mine ear 
 Deceive me in the purport of thy word, 
 
 Thou mean'st t' imply, kind spirit rest not here, 
 
 " But to my father hasten, and make known 
 The fearful truth : ray doom is his command ; 
 
 Writ in heaven's book, I guard the oath I've sworn, 
 Unless he will to blot it by thine hand." 
 
 " Oaths sworn for Meles little need avail," 
 Zophiel replies : " Ere morn, if 't be thy will, 
 
 To Lybian deserts he shall tell his tale, 
 
 I'll hurl him, at thy word, o'er forest, sea, and hill. 
 
 * Les Perses sembie etre les premiers homines connus de nous 
 qui parlerent des anges comme d'huissiers celestes et de portenrs 
 d'ordres. Voltaire sur les Moeurs et F 'Esprit des Nations.
 
 38 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 " But soothe thee, maiden ; be thy soul at peace ! 
 
 Mine be the care to hasten to thy sire, 
 And null thy vow. Let every terror cease : 
 
 Perfect success attends thy least desire." 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 Then lowly bending with seraphic grace, 
 The vase he proffered full ; and not a gem 
 
 Drawn forth successive from its sparkling place 
 But put to shame the Persian diadem. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 While he, " Nay, let me o'er thy white arms bind 
 These orient pearls, less smooth ; Egla, for thee, 
 
 My thrilling substance pained by storm and wind,. 
 I sought them in the caverns of the sea. 
 
 " Look ! here's a ruby ; drinking solar rays, 
 I saw it redden on a mountain tip; 
 
 Now on thy snowy bosom let it blaze : 
 'Twill blush still deeper to behold thy lip. 
 
 LXXXI. 
 " Here's for thy hair a garland ; every flower 
 
 That spreads its blossoms, watered by the tear 
 Of the sad slave in Babylonian bower, 
 
 Might see its frail bright hues perpetuate here.
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 39 
 
 % 
 
 LXXXII. 
 " For morn's light bell, this changeful amethyst; 
 
 A sapphire for the violet's tender blue ; 
 Large opals, for the queen-rose zephyr-kist ; 
 
 And here are emeralds of every hue, 
 For folded bud and leaHet, dropped with dew.* 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 " And here's a diamond, culled from Indian mine, 
 
 To gift a haughty queen : it might not be; 
 I knew a worthier brow, sister divine.f 
 
 And brought the gem ; for well I deem for thee 
 
 * It was not unusual among 1 the nations of the East to imitate 
 flowers with precious stones. The Persian kings, about the time 
 of Artaxerxes, sat, when they gave audience, under a vine, the 
 leaves of which were formed of gold, and the grapes of emeralds. 
 Gold is supposed by some of the Asiatics to have grown like a tree, 
 in the garden of Eden ; and the veins of ore found in the earth 
 still correspond to the form of branches. Shedad, in the gardens 
 of his wonderful palace, had trees formed of gold and silver, with 
 fruits aud blossoms of precious stones. This palace, the Arabs 
 suppose, still exists in the desert, where, though generally in- 
 visible, individuals from time to time have been indulged with a 
 sight of it 
 
 f- Sister was an affectionate appellation used by the Hebrews to
 
 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 "The 'arch-chymic sun' in earth's dark bosom 
 wrought 
 
 To prison thus a ray, that when dull night 
 Frowns o'er her realms, and nature's all seems nought, 
 
 She whom he grieves to leave may still behold his light." 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 Thus spoke he on, while still the wondering maid 
 
 Gazed, as a youthful artist ; rapturously 
 Each perfect, smooth, harmonious limb surveyed 
 
 Insatiate still her beauty-loving eye. 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 For Zophiel wore a mortal form ; and blent 
 In mortal form, when perfect, Nature shews 
 
 Her all that's fair enhanced; fire, firmament, 
 
 Ocean, earth, flowers, and gems, all there disclose 
 
 Their charms epitomised : the heavenly power 
 To lavish beauty, in this last work, crown'd : 
 
 And Egla, formed of fibres such as dower 
 Those who most feel, forgot all else around. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 He saw, and softening every wily word, 
 Spoke in more melting music to her soul ; 
 
 And o'er her sense, as when the fond night-bird 
 Woos the full rose, o'erpowering fragrance stole; (10)
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 41 
 
 Or when the lilies, sleepier perfume, move, 
 Disturbed by two young sister-fawns, that play 
 
 Among their graceful stalks at morn, and love 
 From their white cells to lap the dew away. 
 
 LXXX1X. 
 
 She strove to speak, but 'twas in murmurs low; 
 
 While o'er her cheek, his potent spell confessing, 
 Deeper diffused the warm carnation glow 
 
 Still dewy wet with tears, her inmost soul confessing. 
 
 XC. 
 As the lithe reptile, in some lonely grove, 
 
 With fixed bright eye, of fascinating flame, 
 Lures on by slow degrees the plaining dove, 
 
 So nearer, nearer still the bride and spirit came. 
 
 XCI. 
 Success seemed his; but secret, in the height 
 
 Of exultation, as he braved the power 
 Which baffled him at morn, a secret light 
 
 Shot from his eye, with guilt and treachery fraught. 
 
 XCII. 
 Nature upon her children oft bestows 
 
 The quick, untaught perception ; and while art 
 O'ertasks himself with guile, loves to disclose 
 
 The dark thought in the eye, to warn the o'er-trusting 
 heart.
 
 42 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 XCIII. 
 Or haply 'twas some airy guardian foiled 
 
 The sprite. What mixed emotions shook his breast; 
 When her fair hand, ere he could clasp, recoiled ! 
 
 The spell was broke ; and doubts and terrors prest 
 
 Her sore. While Zophiel : " Meles' step I heard 
 He's a betrayer ! wilt receive him still ?" 
 
 The rosy blood, driven to her heart by fear, 
 She said, in accents faint but firm, " I will." 
 
 XCIV. 
 The spirit heard ; and all again was dark ; 
 
 Save, as before, the melancholy flame 
 Of the full moon ; and faint, unfrequent spark, 
 
 Which from the perfume's burning embers came, 
 
 XCV. 
 
 That stood in vases round the room disposed. 
 
 Shuddering and trembling to her couch she crept, 
 Soft ope'd the door, and quick again was closed, 
 
 And through the pale grey moonlight Meles slept. 
 
 XCVI. 
 But ere he yet, with haste, could throw aside 
 
 His broidered belt and sandals, dread to tell, 
 Eager he sprang he sought to clasp his bride 
 
 He stopt : a groan was heard he gasped, and fell
 
 GROVE OF ACACIAS. 43 
 
 XCVII. 
 Low by the couch of her who widowed lay, 
 
 Her ivory hands, convulsive, clasped in prayer, 
 But lacking power to move ; and, when 'twas day, 
 
 A cold black corse was all of Meles, there.
 
 NOTES 
 
 TO 
 
 CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 (1) " The self-same breeze that passes o'er thy breast." 
 
 The remains of Columbus are preserved in the Cathedral at 
 Havana, beneath a monument and bust of very rude sculpture. 
 These stanzas were written on the same coast, about seventy 
 miles distant. 
 
 (2) " Aladoc, my father's ancient bones repose 
 
 Where their bold harps thy country^s bards enwreathed." 
 The well-known and beautiful poem of Dr Robert Southey, 
 which bears the name of the Welch prince, Madoc, renders it 
 unnecessary to give any farther account of him. 
 
 (3) " And here the full cerulean passion-flower, 
 
 Climbing among the leaves, its mystic symbols hung." 
 Those who have only seen this flower as a curious exotic in 
 severer climates, can have little idea of the profusion with which 
 it grows in its native realms. It climbs from shrub to shrub, forming 
 natural bowers, sparkling with morning dew, and looking, from 
 its beamy shape, like a beautiful planet. 
 
 (4) " That close inclining o'er her, seemed to reck 
 , , What 'twas they canopied.' 1 '' 
 
 This kind of acacia or mimosa particularly belongs to Abyssinia:
 
 46 NOTES TO CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 it is said to incline its branches, as if sensible when any one seek.s 
 its shade. The Arabians love it as a friend. A low species of 
 mimosa, which grows profusely in this island (Cuba), is extremely 
 sensitive ; it not only shuts its pretty leaves, like a closed fan, 
 when touched, but the whole branch which supports them stoops 
 and clings closely to the main stalk. 
 
 The affection of ' Aswad ' for a mimosa that bent over him in 
 the- gardens of Shedad or Irem, forms a particularly beautiful 
 passage in Thalaba. 
 
 (5) " While friendly shades the sacred rites enshroud." 
 The captive Hebrews, though they sometimes outwardly con- 
 formed to the religion of their oppressors, were accustomed to 
 practice their own in secret 
 
 (6) K His heaven-invented harp he still retained." 
 
 The invention of the harp was ascribed, by the Hebraic his- 
 torians, to Jubal ; who, as he lived before the deluge, enjoyed, in 
 common with others of his race, the privilege of conversing with 
 angels, from whom he may be supposed to have received his art. 
 That Mercury, to whom the Grecians ascribed the invention of the 
 lyre, according to the belief of the Christian fathers, might have 
 been the son of a guilty angel. 
 
 (7) " Weary he fainted through the toilsome hours, 
 
 And then his mystic nature he sustained 
 On steam of sacrifices, breath ofjlowers."" 
 
 " Eusebe dans sa ' Preparation Evangelique,' raporte quantite 
 de passages de Porphyre, ou ce philosophe Payen assure que les 
 mauvais demons sont les auteurs des enchantemens, des philtres, 
 and des malefices ; que le mensonge est essentiel a leur nature ; 
 qu'ils ne font que tromper nos yeux par des spectres and par des 
 fantomes ; qu'ils excitent en nous la plupart de nos passions ; 
 qu'ils ont 1'ambition de vouloir passer pour des dieux ; que leurs
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE FIRST. 47 
 
 corps aeriens se nourissent de fumigations de sang repandu et de 
 la graisse des sacrifices ; qu'il n'y a qu'eux qui se melent de rendre 
 des oracles, et a qui cette fbnction plein de troraperie soit tombee 
 en partage. Fontenelle Histoire des Oracles, 
 
 It is related, also, in the Caherman Nameh, that the Peris fed 
 upon precious odours, brought them by their companions when 
 imprisoned and hung up in cages by the Dives. 
 
 Most of the oriental superstitions harmonize perfectly with the 
 belief of the fathers ; and what is there in philosophy, natural or 
 moral, to disprove the existence of beings similar to those 
 described by the latter? 
 
 (8) "Sometimes he gave out oracles." 
 
 This passage accords with a belief prevalent in the earlier ages 
 of Christianity, that all nations, except the descendants of Abra- 
 ham, were abandoned by the Almighty, and subjected to the power 
 of demons or evil spirits. Fontenelle, in his " Histoire des 
 Oracles," makes the following extract from the works of the Pagan 
 philosopher Porphyry : " Auguste deja vieux et songeant a se 
 ehoisir un successeur alia consulter 1'Oracle de Delphes. L'Oracle 
 ne repondoit point, quoiqu' Auguste n' epargnat pas des sacrifices. 
 A la fin, cependant, il en tira cette reponse. L 'enfant Hebrew a 
 qui tous les Dieux obeissent, me chasse d' ici, et me renvoie dans 
 les Enfers. Sors de ce temple sans parler ! " 
 
 (9) Still trite 
 
 To one dear theme? my full soul flowing o'er, 
 Would Jind no room for thought of what it knew, 
 Nor, picturing forfeit transport, curse me more." 
 "Si 1'homme" (says a modern writer), "constant dans ses affection, 
 pouvoit sans cesse fournir a un sentiment renouvele sans cesse, 
 sans doute la solitude et 1'amour Fegaleroient a Dieu meme ; car 
 ce sont la les deux eternels plaisirs du grand Etre." 
 
 Saint Theresa used to describe the Prince of Darkness as an 
 unhappy being who never could know what it was to love.
 
 48 NOTES TO CANTO THE FIRST. 
 
 (10) "And o'er her sense, as when the fond night-bird, 
 Woos the full rose, overpowering fragance stole." 
 
 This allusion is familiar to every one in the slightest degree 
 acquainted with Oriental literature. 
 
 " The nightingale, if he sees the rose, becomes intoxicated; he 
 lets go from his hands the reins of prudence." Fable of the 
 Gardener and Nightingale. 
 
 Lady Montagu also translates a song, thus : 
 
 " The nightingale now hovers amid the flowers. 
 His passion is to seek roses." 
 
 Again, from the poet Hafiz : 
 
 " When the roses wither, and the bower loses its sweetness, 
 You have no longer the tale of the nightingale." 
 
 Indeed the rose, in Oriental poetry, is seldom mentioned without 
 her paramour, the nightingale, which gives reason to suppose that 
 the nightingale, in those countries where it was first celebrated, 
 had really some natural fondness for that flower, or perhaps for 
 some insect which took shelter in it. In Sir W. Jones's transla- 
 tion of the Persian fable of The Gardener and Nightingale," is 
 the following distich: 
 
 " I know not what the rose says under his lips, that he brings 
 hack the helpless nightingales, with their mournful notes. 
 
 " One day the gardener, according to his established custom, 
 went to view the roses ; he saw a plaintive nightingale rubbing his 
 head on the leaves of the roses, and tearing asunder, with his sharp 
 bill, that volume adorned with gold." 
 
 And Gelaleddin Ruzbehar; 
 
 " While the nightingale sings thy praises with a loud voice, I 
 am all ear, like the stalk of the rose-tree." 
 
 Pliny, however, in his delightful description of this bird, says 
 nothing, I believe, about the rose. 
 
 Cuba. Cajetal San Patricia, April 1823.
 
 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR.
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Sardius, in his pavilion, alone with Altheetor. Description of the 
 pavilion. Sardius sends a detachment of his guards in search of 
 Meles. Egla and her parents are brought before the King, to answer 
 for the murder of Meles. Egla relates the manner of Meles' deatli, 
 is retained at the palace, and invited to banquet with Sardius and 
 his Princes. Sardius determines to espouse Egla, but delays hia 
 purpose, at the entreaty of Idaspes. Egla is commanded, on pain 
 of the death of her father, to receive, as bridegroom, whomever the 
 King may appoint. Alcestes, Ripheus, Philomars, and Rosanes, 
 seek her chamber, and die in succession. Sickness and death of 
 of Altheetor. Sorrow of Zophiel. Egla and her parents sent back 
 to their home.
 
 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR.* 
 
 I. 
 SOON over Meles' grave the wild flower dropt 
 
 Its brimming dew ; nor far, where Tigris' spray 
 Leaps to the beam, in life's sweet blossom cropt, 
 
 Four others, fair as he, were snatched from day. 
 
 Bridegrooms like him, they knew his fate ; yet, bent 
 On their desires, resolved that fate to brave ; 
 
 So, in succession, each a victim went, 
 Borne from the bridal chamber to the grave. 
 
 II. 
 
 Low liest thou, Meles ! and 'tis mine to know, 
 By light of song, the darkly-hidden power 
 
 That closed thy bland, but wily lip ; and show, 
 In flowing verse, what followed thy death-hour. 
 
 " This name is formed of the two Greek words Alethes and etor
 
 32 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 III. 
 Noon slept upon thy grave, and Media's king 
 
 Had sat him down, from court and harem far, 
 With a young boy who knew to touch the string 
 
 Of the sweet harp, and wage the ivory war* 
 
 On painted field. The fainting breezes played 
 Among the curling clusters of his hair; 
 
 Thro' myrtle blooms and berries, white and red, 
 O'er the cool space of a pavilion, fair 
 
 As fond Ionian artist might devise : 
 
 Twelve columns, ivory white, support a dome, 
 Painted to emulate the dark blue skies, 
 
 When seamen watch the stars, and sigh, and think of 
 home. 
 
 IV. 
 
 And, in the midst, Night's goddess (to the sight 
 More softly beauteous for a pictured moon 
 
 That mantles her, in pale mysterious light,) 
 Comes stealing to the arms of her Endymion. 
 
 * Chess was known at an early period. Queen Parysatis played 
 with Artaxerxes, her son, for the life of a person whom she wished 
 to destroy. Sir William Jones's article on the ancient game of 
 Chaturanga, or Indian chess, is well known.
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 
 
 On six fair pedestals, ranged two by two, 
 Like Leda's sons, the smiling pillars stood ; 
 
 As, each by cither's side, they rose to view, 
 
 Spotless from limpid bath,_in some deep dusky wood, 
 
 Draining their dripping locks. In either space 
 Between, three lattices, with blossoms bowered, 
 
 Alternate with three pictured scenes had place; 
 And all who saw, believed some god empowered 
 
 The gifted hand that spread their tints. In one, 
 Far from the Grecian camp, his rage profound 
 
 Soothing, with lyre in hand, sat Thetis' son ; 
 Beside the ocean wave that darkly dashed around. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Upon the next young Myrrha's form appears ; 
 
 Guilt, fear, repentance, blanch her cheek of love, 
 While, tender, beauteous, shuddering, drowned in tears, 
 
 She flies the day, and hides in Saba's deepest grove. 
 
 VII. 
 A peerless third the bride of Love displays, 
 
 Psyche, with lamp in hand ; blest, while unknown 
 The cause that gave her bliss ; now, daring rays 
 
 The mystery pierce, and all her pleasure's flown.
 
 54 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Beneath that dome, reclined the youthful king, 
 Upon a silver couch ;* and soothed to mood 
 
 As free and soft as perfumes from the wing 
 Of bird that shook the jasmines as it wooed, f 
 
 Its fitful song the mingling murmur meeting 
 
 Of marble founts of many a fair device ; 
 And bees that banquet, from the sun retreating, 
 
 In every full, deep flower, that crowns his paradise. (1) 
 
 IX. 
 
 While gemmy diadem thrown down beside, 
 
 And garment, at the neck plucked open, proved 
 
 His unconstraint, and scorn of regal pride, 
 
 When thus apart retired, he sat with those he loved. 
 
 One careless arm around the boy was flung, 
 Not undeserving of that free caress; 
 
 But warm and true, and of a heart and tongue 
 To heighten bliss or mitigate distress. 
 
 * Couches of gold and silver were not uncommon among the 
 Median and Persian princes. 
 
 . } The white and yellow jessamine is now found growing in 
 abundance about mount Casius, intermixed with laurels, myrtles, 
 and other delightful shrubs.
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 55 
 
 XI. 
 
 l^uick to perceive, in him no freedom rude 
 Reproved full confidence : friendship the meat 
 
 His soul had starved without, with gratitude 
 Was ta'en ; and her rich wine crowned high the ban- 
 quet sweet. 
 
 What sire Altheetor owned 'twere hard to trace; 
 
 A beautiful Ionian was his mother; 
 Some found to Sardius semblance, in his face, 
 
 Who never better could have loved a brother. 
 
 XII. 
 But now, the ivory battle at its close, 
 
 " Go to thy harp," said Sardius, " 'twere severe 
 To keep thee longer, thus;" then, as he rose, 
 
 " Where's our ambassador ? Call Meles here." 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Altheetor said : " Alas ! my prince, the chase 
 Detains him long ; and yet from peril sure 
 
 'Tis deemed he fares : nay, those there are who trace 
 His absence to some silvan paramour." 
 
 " Let him be sought," said Sardius.* No delay 
 
 Mocked that command; but vestige, glimpse, nor breath 
 
 Was gleaned, till, sadly, on the seventh day, 
 A band returned with tidings of his death. 
 * Sardius is the name of a precious stone.
 
 56 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Sardius was sad upon his audience-seat. 
 
 Then spoke old Philomars : " Remember well, 
 O king ! without the city, had retreat 
 
 Two of those captives of a race so fell, 
 
 " Thy father and my lord would rid the earth, 
 Root, branch, and bud, and gave the task to me ; 
 
 But two escaped the sword, and so had birth 
 Another serpent. This, O prince ! to thee 
 
 " Was told ; and to complete the work I craved ; 
 
 But thou didst check my zeal, with angry mood, 
 And saidst, ' If any trembling wretch be saved, 
 
 Let him live on ; there's been enough of blood.' 
 
 " We've traced Lord Meles to that serpent's den, 
 And seen him in the vile earth murdered lie ; 
 
 Yet wherefore grieves the greatest king of men ? 
 This only is the fruit of clemency." 
 
 XVI. 
 Then Sardius spoke, (as on the earth he cast, 
 
 While grief gave anger place, his full dark eye) : 
 " Whoe'er has done this deed has done his last ! 
 
 Soldier, priest, Jew, or Mede, by Belus he shall die.
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 57 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Then brought they Zoroh in, misfortune's pride, 
 His venerable locks with age were white; 
 
 He cheered his trembling partner, at his side, 
 Reposing on his God, befall him as it might. 
 
 XVIII. 
 Young Egla marked him stand so firm and pale; 
 
 Looked in her mother's face 'twas anguish there ; 
 Then gently threw aside her azure veil, 
 
 And in an upward glance sent forth to heaven a prayer. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Then prostrate thus : " Oh, monarch, seal my doom ! 
 
 Thy sorrow for Lord Meles' death I know ; 
 Take then thy victim, drag me to his tomb, 
 
 And to his manes let my life-blood flow ! (2) 
 
 XX. 
 
 " Oh ! by the God who made yon glowing sun, 
 And warmed cold dust to beauty with his breath ; 
 
 By all the good that e'er was caused or done, 
 
 Nor I, nor mine, have wrought thy subject's death. 
 
 XXI. 
 " Yet think not I would live; alas ! to me 
 
 No warrior of my country e'er shall come; 
 And forth with dance, and flowers, and minstrelsy, 
 
 I go to bid no brother welcome home.
 
 68 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 " Sad from my birth, nay, born upon that day 
 When perished all my race, my infant ears 
 
 Were opened first with groans ; and the first ray 
 I saw came dimly through my mother's tears. 
 
 " Pour forth my life, a guiltless offering 
 Most freely given ! But let me die alone ! 
 
 Destroy not those who gave me birth J oh, king! 
 I've blood enough : let it for all atone !" 
 
 XXIII. 
 She traced it on her hand, through the soft skin 
 
 Meandering seen. Without, that hand was white 
 As drops for infant lip ; the palm within 
 
 Faintly carnationed, as of Amphitrite, 
 
 The fond lonians fancied the pure shell 
 Chosen by that loved goddess for a car, 
 
 While o'er her feet dissolving foam-wreaths fell 
 In kisses j so they dreamed, in little bark afar. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Egla had ceased : her pure cheeks heightened glow ; 
 
 Her white hands clasped; blue veil, half fallen down; 
 Fair locks and gushing tears, stole o'er him so, 
 
 That Sardius had not harmed her for his crown.
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOK. 59 
 
 Yet, serious, thus fair justice' course pursued : 
 As if to hide what look and tone revealed ; 
 
 " What lured a Median to thy solitude ? 
 
 How came his death? and who his corse concealed?' 
 
 XXV. 
 
 'Twas thus she told her tale : " A truant dove 
 Had flown ; I strayed a little from the track 
 
 That winds in mazes to my lonely grove, 
 But heard a hunter's voice and hastened back. 
 
 XXVI. 
 " Lord Meles saw ; and with a slender dart, 
 
 Fastened the little flutterer to a tree 
 By the white wing, with such surpassing art, 
 
 'Twas scarcely wounded when returned to me.* 
 
 XXVII. 
 " Thankful I took ; but taught to be afraid 
 
 Of stranger's glance, retired : my mother sighed 
 And trembling saw ; yet soon our dwelling's shade 
 
 The Median sought, and claimed me for a bride. 
 
 * The Medes as well as the Persians were expert with the bow 
 and javelin.
 
 5 CANTO THE SECOND* 
 
 XXVIII. 
 " But when reluctant to my humble room 
 
 I had retired, was spread a fragrance there, 
 Like rose and lotus shaken in their bloom ; 
 
 And something came and spoke, and looked so fair, 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 " It seemed all fresh from heaven ; but soon the thought 
 Of things that tempt to sorcery in the night 
 
 Made me afraid. It fled ; and Meles sought 
 His bridal bed ; the moon was shining bright } 
 
 XXX. 
 
 " I saw his bracelets gleam, and knew him well ; 
 
 But, ere he spoke, was breathed a sound so dread, 
 That fear enchained my senses like a spell, 
 
 And when the morning came, my lord was dead, 
 
 XXXI, 
 
 " And then my mother, in her anxious care, 
 Concealed me in a cave, that long before 
 
 Saved her from massacre j and left me there, 
 To live in darkness, till the search was o'er 
 
 " Her fears foretold. So, in that cavern's gloom 
 Alone upon the damp bare rock I lay, 
 
 Like a deserted corse ; but that cold tomb 
 Soon filled with rosy mists, like dawn of day,
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 61 
 
 " Which, half dispersing, showed the same fair thing 
 I saw before ; and with it came another, 
 
 More gentle than the first, and helped it bring 
 
 Fresh flowers and fruits, in semblance like a brother. 
 
 " They spread, upon the rock, a flowery couch ; 
 
 And of a sparkling goblet bade me sip, 
 For that they saw me cold ; I dared not touch, 
 
 But, mid the sweet temptation, closed my lip ; 
 
 " And from their grateful warmth and looks so fair 
 I turned away and shrank. Of their intent, 
 
 I do not know to tell, or what they were 
 But feared and doubted both ; and when they went, 
 
 " Fled trembling to my home ; content to meet 
 The sternest death injustice might prepare, 
 
 Ere trust my weakness, in that dark retreat, 
 To such strange peril as assailed me there." 
 
 XXXIII. 
 She ceased : and now, in palace bade to stay, 
 
 Awaits the royal pleasure; but no more, 
 Though strictly watched and guarded, all the day. 
 
 To that stern warrior's threats was given o'er,
 
 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 Dark Philomars, strong in his country's cause ; 
 
 But harder than his battle-helm his heart ; 
 Born, while his father fought, and nurst in wars, 
 
 Pillage and fire his sports, to kill his only art. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 And, when he sacked a city, he could tear 
 The screaming infant from its mother's arms, 
 
 Dash it to earth ; and, while 'twas weltering there 
 With demon grasp, impress her shuddering charms : 
 
 Then, as she faints with shrieks and struggles vain, 
 
 Coolly recall her with the ruffian blow ; 
 And look, and pause, insatiate of her pain, 
 
 Then gash her tender throat, and see the life-blood flow. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Oh, Nature ! can it be ? the thought alone 
 Chills the quick pulse: Belief retires afar; 
 
 Reason grows angry ; Pity breathes a groan ; 
 
 And each distrusts the truth : yet, " such things are." (3) 
 
 Are ? Nay, in this late age ! God, canst thou view 
 Thine image so debased ? The bard in grief 
 
 Thinks o'er the creed of fiends ; sees what men do ; 
 And, wondering, scarce rejects the wild belief.
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 63 
 
 Night came ; and old Idaspes, all alone 
 With Sardius, had retired ; but why so late 
 
 He wakes, with his white hairs, may not be known, 
 And still the captives tremble for their fate. 
 
 But when the old man went, that gentle boy 
 Altheetor sat by his loved master's couch ; 
 
 And fervent pleadings for their lives employ 
 
 His lips that else had sung. The while his touch 
 
 Thrilled o'er his lyre, gay Meles' early blight 
 
 Past from the prince's thought ; the transient gloom 
 Was to his soul just as some bird of night 
 Had flitted cross the moon when full and bright, 
 
 She o'er his garden shone in the sweet month of bloom.' 
 
 XXXVII. 
 Of late his harem tired ; if suns were there 
 
 He did not burn, but sickened in their rays, 
 And snow-white Egla, mild, and chaste, and fair, 
 
 Came o'er his fancy ; as in sultry days, (4) 
 
 Soft clouds appear, when travellers bare the brow ; 
 
 And faint and panting, bless the timely shade, 
 And breathe the cool refreshment ; so e'en now 
 
 Refreshed his languid soul the softly-imaged maid. 
 
 * When the Persians celebrate their feast of roses.
 
 64 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Or, as some youth waked from the vine's excess, 
 Parched and impure forgets the joys it gave ; 
 
 And flies the fair Bacchante's wild caress, 
 
 For some lone Naiad's grot, and cools him in the wave. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Or as some graceful fawn, o'erspent with play, 
 Faints in the beam, and where deep shades invite ; 
 
 Flies, all impatient of the burning day, 
 
 And woos the lily's shade to hide him from its light. 
 
 So felt the king ; nor sleeping quite nor waking, 
 As wildering o'er his lids the zephyrs sweep, 
 
 Whole beds of purple hyacinths forsaking; 
 And when sweet reverie gave place to sleep, 
 
 He dreamed of baths, or beds of flowers and dew, 
 
 Or sculptured marbles, as at Cnidos seen ; 
 But still, with fair long locks and veil of blue, 
 Another form would blend with every view, 
 
 With visionary grace and heavenly eye and mien. 
 
 XLI. 
 The smile of morning woke Idaspes' care ; 
 
 And Egla, dubious if its light might bring 
 Or weal or woe to her, was bid prepare 
 
 To sit at evening banquet with the king.
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 65 
 
 XLII. 
 Then came an ancient dame, skilled in those arts, 
 
 Employed by beauty's daughters to enchain, 
 Or lightly touch, the soft voluptuous hearts 
 
 Of youths that seem, as they, of curl and eyebrow vain.* 
 
 XLIII. 
 And pouring perfumes in the bath, she told 
 
 Wild tales of a Chaldean princess, loved 
 By the fair sprite Eroziel, who, of old, 
 
 Taught all those trims to heighten beauty, proved 
 
 By Lydian, Median, Perse, and Greek ; with black (5) 
 To tip the eye-lid ; stain the finger ; deck 
 
 The cheek with hues that languor bids it lack ; 
 And how he taught to twine the arms and neck 
 
 With wreaths of gems, or made or found by him, (6) 
 Or his enamoured brothers, when they bore 
 
 Love for the like, and many a secret dim 
 That nature would conceal from charm'd recesses tore. 
 
 Many of the young men of Asia, and even those of Athens, 
 
 Many of the young men of Asia, and ever 
 used the same arts at their toilets as the women.
 
 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 This story o'er, the dainty maids were fain 
 To take the white rose of her hand, and tip 
 
 Each taper finger with a ruddy stain, 
 To make it like the coral of her lip. 
 
 XLV. 
 But Egla this refused them ; and forbore 
 
 The folded turban twined with many a string 
 Of gems ; and, as in tender memory, wore 
 
 Her country's simpler garb, to meet the youthful king. 
 
 Day o'er, the task was done ; the melting hues 
 
 Of twilight gone, and reigned the evening gloom 
 Gently o'er fount and tower; she could refuse 
 
 No more ; and, led by slaves, sought the fair banquet- 
 room. 
 
 XLVII. 
 With unassured yet graceful step advancing, 
 
 The light vermilion of her cheek more warm 
 For doubtful modesty ; while all were glancing 
 
 Over the strange attire that well became such form. 
 
 To lend her space the admiring band gave way ; 
 
 The sandals on her silvery feet were blue ; 
 Of saffron tint her robe, as when young day 
 
 Spreads softly o'er the heavens, and tints the trem- 
 bling dew.
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. G7 
 
 XLIX. 
 Light was that robe, as mist ; and not a gem 
 
 Or ornament impedes its wavy fold, 
 Long and profuse ; save that, above its hem, 
 
 'Twas 'broidered with pomegranate-wreath, in gold. 
 
 L. 
 And, by a silken cincture, broad aud blue, 
 
 In shapely guise about the waist confined, 
 Blent with the curls that, of a lighter hue, 
 
 Half floated, waving in their length behind ; 
 The other half, in braided tresses twined, 
 
 Was decked with rose of pearls, and sapphires azure too, 
 
 Arranged with curious skill to imitate 
 The sweet acacia's blossoms ; just as live 
 
 And droop those tender flowers in natural state ; 
 And so the trembling gems seemed sensitive ; 
 
 And pendant, sometimes, touch her neck ; and there 
 Seem shrinking from its softness as alive. 
 
 And round her arms flower-white, and round, and fair, 
 Slight bandelets were twined of colours five ; (7) 
 
 Like little rainbows seemly on those arms ; 
 
 None of that court had seen the like before; 
 Soft, fragrant, bright, so much like heaven her charms, 
 
 It scarce could seem idolatry t' adore.
 
 68 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 ' LI. 
 He who beheld her hand forgot her face ; 
 
 Yet in that face was all beside forgot ; 
 And he, who as she went, beheld her pace, 
 
 And locks profuse, had said, "nay, turn thee not." 
 
 Placed on a banquet-couch beside the king, 
 'Mid many a sparkling guest no eye forbore ; 
 
 But, like their darts, the warrior-princes fling 
 
 Such looks as seemed to pierce, and scan her o'er and 
 
 Nor met alone the glare of lip and eye 
 
 Charms, but not rare : the gazer stern and cool, 
 
 Who sought but faults, nor fault or spot could spy ; 
 In every limb, joint, vein, the maid was beautiful. 
 
 Save that her lip, like some bud-bursting flower, 
 Just scorned the bounds of symmetry, perchance, 
 
 But by its rashness gained an added power; 
 Heightening perfection to luxuriance.* 
 
 * This description is from the life ; and does not exceed in any 
 particular the face of a Canadian lady of Swiss descent. She was 
 called by the peasants of her neighbourhood " L'ange des bois."
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 69 
 
 L1V. 
 But that was only when she smiled, and when 
 
 Dissolved th* intense expression of her eye ; 
 And had her Spirit-love first seen her then 
 
 He had not doubted her mortality. 
 
 LV. 
 And could she smile, for that a stranger hung 
 
 O'er her fair form, and spoke to her of love ? 
 Where is the youth who scorned a court, and sprung 
 
 Amid Euphrates' waves, as told her in her grove ? 
 
 Haply she did, and for awhile forgot 
 
 Those dark acacias, where so oft was wept 
 
 Her lone, uncertain, visionary lot ; 
 
 Yet where an angel watched her as she slept. 
 
 LVI. 
 When light, love, music, beauty, all dispense 
 
 Their wild commingling charms, who shall controul 
 The gushing torrent of attracted sense, 
 
 And keep the forms of memory and of soul ? 
 
 LV1I. 
 
 Oh ! theme of rapture, honoured Constancy ! 
 
 Invoked, hoped, sworn, but rare ! have we per- 
 chance 
 
 To thank the generous breast that nurtures thee 
 For thy dear life, when saved ? or fate, or circum- 
 stance ?
 
 70 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 " Tiiy fragrant form, as the tall lily white, 
 Looks full and soft ; yet supple as the reed 
 
 Kissing its image in the fountain light, 
 
 Or ostrich' wavy plume." So speaks the Mede; 
 
 While bending o'er her banquet-couch, he breathes 
 Her breath, whose fragrance woos that near advance ; 
 
 Plays with her silken tresses' wandering wreaths, 
 And looks, and looks again with renovated glance. 
 
 LIX. 
 But, ever watchful, to his prince's side 
 
 Came old Idaspes ; he, alone, might dare 
 To check the rising transport, ere its tide 
 
 Arose too high to quell ; and thus, expressed his care, 
 
 Whispering in murmurs first : " At last, O king ! 
 
 Thy subjects breathe ; the cries of slaughter cease ; 
 And happy labourers bless thee, as they bring 
 
 Forth from thy smiling fields, the fruits of peace. 
 
 " Their wounds just healing over, wouldst thou rush 
 Upon thy doom and theirs ? What bitter tears 
 
 Must flow, if thou shouldst fall ! what blood must gush ! 
 Wait, till the cause of Meles' fate appears.
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 71 
 
 " And ere this dangerous beauty be thy bride, 
 
 Let him who loves thee best come forth and prove 
 
 The peril first." Alcestes rose beside, 
 
 And said, " Oh prince ! to prove my faith and love, 
 
 " I'll dare as many deaths as on the sod 
 
 Without, the falling rose of leaves has strown ! 
 
 And if bland Meles fell by rival god, 
 
 So let me fall ; and live the pride of Media's throned 
 
 LX. 
 Egla, o'erwhelmed with shame, distaste, and fear, 
 
 Could, of remonstrance, utter not a breath ; 
 Ere fixed Idaspes' whisper met her ear : 
 
 " One word impassive seals thy fathers detith" 
 
 LXI. 
 
 And while Alcestes' bolder glances stray 
 O'er the fair trembler to his monarch dear ; 
 
 Not one distrustful whispering came t' allay 
 The sudden joy with slightest shade of fear: 
 
 A dark-hair'd priestess, well he knew, of late 
 
 Had Meles loved ; and for the mystery 
 That hung so darkly o'er his early fate, 
 
 Looked for no deadlier cause than wounded jealousy.
 
 72 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 LXII. 
 And for the story of the cave, he deemed 
 
 That lone, and in the dark, the frighted maid 
 Had gained a respite from her tears, and dreamed ; 
 
 Or haply framed the tale, but to evade 
 
 Some fearM result. But, be it as it might, 
 The thoughtless King accedes ; and, ere the day 
 
 Again had dawned, dead, ghastly to the sight, 
 Before his bridal door the tall Alcestes lay. 
 
 LXIII. 
 So died the youth. But little might avail 
 
 His sacrifice ; for Sardius, who forbore 
 His purpose but awhile, contemn'd the tale, 
 
 And madly spoke thus, ere the day was o'er : 
 
 LXIV. 
 " Ask of Alcestes' manes, did he die * ! 
 
 By angry god or mortal's traitorous hand ? 
 Whoe'er will draw to light this mystery, 
 
 Shall live the captain of my choicest band." 
 
 * It is said by Pliny, that Appion raised up the soul of Homer, 
 in order to learn from him his country and his parents ; and Apol- 
 lonius Tyanasus is said to have raised the manes of Achilles.
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 73 
 
 LXV. 
 That promise claimed Ripheus ; he desired 
 
 No dearer boon ; yet haply panted, less 
 By maddening thought of love and beauty fired, 
 
 Than to a rival court to prove his fearlessness. 
 
 He had grasp'd the wily Parthian in the fight ; 
 
 Leapt on the wounded tiger in the chace : 
 And oft his mother, vain in her delight, (8) 
 
 Boasted she owed him to a god's embrace. 
 
 LXVII. 
 So he relied on that ; and fickle chance 
 
 Conspired with the deceit, until his doom 
 Was rush'd upon. But still his bold advance 
 
 Some caution guarded ; to the fatal room 
 
 He came; and first explored with trusty blade; 
 
 But soon as he approached the fatal bride, 
 Opened the terrace door, and, half in shade, 
 
 A form, as of a mortal, seein'd to glide; 
 
 LXVII I. 
 He flew to strike, but baffling still the blow, 
 
 And still, receding from the chamber far, 
 It lured him on ; and in the morning low 
 
 And bloody lay the form, which not a scar
 
 74 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 Before had e'er defaced. Dismay profound 
 
 Gave place to doubt ; for, as by mortal hand 
 And mortal weapon made, the wound was found, 
 
 And heard had been the clash that snapp'd his dinted 
 brand. 
 
 LXiX. 
 Then came, with rage renewed, rough Philomars, 
 
 (For gentle bridegroom's office most unmeet 
 Of all), and craved, in guerdon of his scars, 
 
 Permission to drag forth the deep deceit, 
 
 He charged upon the daughter of the Jew, 
 Whose life provoked his thirst ; and pledged him, rife 
 
 With ancient hate, to bring her fraud to view, 
 Or pay the bold aspersion with his life. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 Led from the bridal room a deep arcade, 
 
 And paths of flowers and fountains, often graced 
 
 With bathing beauty, now reflect the shade 
 
 Of warriors tall, and grim with helm and corselet braced. 
 
 They guard each pass, so that a bird in vain 
 An outlet to his airy rounds might seek; 
 
 And Philomars stalk'd o'er the floor, with pain 
 Stifling the rage which, yet, he dared not wreak.
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 75 
 
 And muttering 'twixtclench'd teeth, " Atlast, young witch, 
 
 Ends thy career ;" then he, with careful touch 
 Of his proved sword, examined every nich ; 
 
 Then, to the bride approach'd, and would have pierced 
 her couch. 
 
 LXXII. 
 Not Eva, lovelier than the tints of air, (9) 
 
 Crouching amid the leaves lest heaven should see 
 That form, all panting 'neath her yellow hair, (10) 
 
 E'er looked more fair, or trembled more than she. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 But the pale blaze of every fragrant lamp 
 
 That moment died, as if a sudden gust 
 Of thick cold air, had gush'd from cavern damp ; 
 
 And groping, in the darkness, vainly curst 
 
 And struggled Philomars. 'Twas his last breath 
 
 That Egla heard ; the suffocating noise 
 Of the one lengthen'd pang that gave him death : 
 
 She swooned upon her couch, but might not know the 
 cause. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 The young Rosanes came at early morn, 
 
 To view the corse, that lay in piteous case, 
 Grasping the sword its hand, at eve, had drawn ; 
 
 The last fierce frown still stiff upon its face.
 
 76 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 And thus the youth (in dress of horseman dight) : 
 " Art dead old wolf? If ever, since his reign, 
 
 Pluto was grateful, take his thanks to night ; 
 
 For who has sent down more to people his domain ? 
 
 " But prithee, soldier, when the nether coasts 
 Receive thy soul, less grim and angry be ; 
 
 Lest the fair sun be clouded o'er with ghosts 
 
 That rush again to earth to 'scape the sight of thee ! ' 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 Rosanes, of the painted eyebrow, vain, 
 To gain report for wit and valour strove ; 
 
 Rearing his Parthian courser on the plain, 
 And boasting, at the feast, of Naiad's love. 
 
 And round his neck an amulet he wore 
 Of many a gem in mystic mazes tied ; (11) 
 
 And mad for much applause, not long forbore 
 To name his wishes for the dangerous bride. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 Enough to tell, he shared the common fate 
 
 Of those whose rash adventurous zeal could dare 
 The spirit-guarded couch. But oh ! thy state, 
 
 Altheetor, generous boy ! best claims the minstrel's care.
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 77 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 When Media's last king died, a tumult rose, 
 And all Idaspes' prudence scarce procured 
 
 To keep the youthful Sardius from his foes ,- 
 And, ere his father's throne was yet secured, 
 
 Upon a terrace while Altheetor hung 
 About the prince, who carelessly carest, 
 
 A well-aimed arrow glanced ; the stripling sprung, 
 Stood like a shield, and let it pierce hia breast. 
 
 But sage Pithoes knew the healing good 
 Of every herb ; he pluck'd the dart away ; 
 
 And stopp'd the rich effusion of his blood 
 As at his monarch's feet the boy exulting lay ; 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 Drew forth from scrip, an antidotal balm ; 
 
 And ere the venom through life's streams could creep 
 Bestowed for death's convulsions dewy calm, 
 
 And steep'd each throbbing vein in salutary sleep. 
 
 But now Altheetor's sick. The kindly draught, 
 The bath of bruised herbs were vainly tried ; 
 
 While his young breath seem'd as it fain would waft 
 His soul away; so piteously he sighed.
 
 78 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 Above his couch were hung his sword and lyre, 
 His polish'd bow, and javelin often proved 
 
 In the far chace, where once in faith and fire 
 
 He fared beside to guard and watch the prince he loved. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 His fragrant locks, thrown backward from his brow, 
 Displayed its throbbing pulse : ah ! how rebell'd 
 
 That heart, the seat of truth ! ^Beside him now 
 One languid hand the good Pithoes held ; 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 And look'd, and thought, and bent his brow in vain ; 
 
 Then, in the sadness of his baffled skill, 
 Resign'd the boy to fate ; then thought again, 
 
 Was there no hidden cause for such consuming ill ? 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 Still o'er the couch he casts his gentle eyes, 
 
 And brought fresh balm; but all was unavailing. 
 Altheetor faintly breathes his thanks, and sighs, 
 
 As if his guiltless life that moment were exhaling. 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 'Twas long he had not spoke ; now heaved his breast, 
 
 And now, despite of shame, a tear was straying 
 From the closed, quivering lid. Some grief supprest, 
 
 Some secret care upon his life was preying.
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 79 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 So came a glimpse across Pithoes' thought ; 
 
 And, in obedience to the doubt, he said, 
 " 'Tis strange, Altheetor, thou hast never aught 
 
 Ask'd, or express'd, of the fair captive maid, 
 
 " For it was thou who forced the crowd to yield, 
 When she was rudely dragg'd, on audience day, 
 
 And gently loosed, from Philomars's shield, 
 A lock of her fair hair he else had torn away. 
 
 xc. 
 
 " Sardius believed and loved her, would hare wed, 
 But old Idaspes, doubtful 'twas some god 
 
 That, amorous of her charms, laid Mcles dead, 
 Awhile restrain'd the King, who saw, unawed, 
 
 " The gay Alcestes, from her chamber fair 
 
 Thrown dead and black. Ripheus, too, lies low; 
 
 Old Philomars spoke his last curses there; 
 And young Rosanes ne'er his silver bow 
 
 " Shall draw again ; and yet the King is fix'd 
 In his resolve to wed ; some power divine, 
 
 Envying our peace, impels ; or she has mix'd, 
 By magic skill, some philtre with his wine. (12)
 
 80 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 XCI. 
 " Or there's in her blue eye some wicked light, (13) 
 
 That steadily allures him to his doom : 
 She's bidden to the feast again to-night, 
 
 And good Idaspes' countenance in gloom 
 
 " Is fall'n : in vain he strives ; his silver hairs 
 Rise with the anguish at his heart's true core ; 
 
 While the impatient, reckless Sardius swears 
 By Baal, whate'er betides, to wait but three days more. 
 
 XCII. 
 
 " Nor soldier, prince, or satrap, more appear 
 Vaunting their fealty firm with flattering breath, 
 
 But each speak low, as if some god were near, 
 In silent anger singling him for death." 
 
 XCIII. 
 Now o'er Altheetor's face what changes glisten'd 
 
 As ear and open lip drank every word ; 
 He raised him from his couch, he looked, he listen'd, 
 
 Reviving renovating as he heard. 
 
 O'er cheek and brow a lively red was rushing, 
 While half he felt his dark eye could not tell ; 
 
 Then (spent the pang of hope) cold dews were gushing 
 From brow again turned pale. He droop'd he fell
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 81 
 
 Faint on his pillow. Unsurprised and calm 
 
 Soon to restore the good Pithoes knew ; 
 He saw what fever raged, and knew its balm ; 
 
 Spoke comfort to his charge ; and for awhile withdrew. 
 
 xcv. 
 What in his breast revolved, I cannot tell ; 
 
 To seek Idaspes' aid his steps were bent ; 
 And when 'twas midnight, as by sudden spell 
 
 Restored, to bridal room Altheetor went. 
 
 XCVI. 
 
 Touching his golden harp to prelude sweet 
 Entered the youth, so pensive, pale, and fair ; 
 
 Advanced respectful to the virgin's feet, 
 
 And, lowly bending down, made tuneful parlance there. 
 
 XCVII. 
 Like perfume soft his gentle accents rose, 
 
 And sweetly thrill'd the gilded roof along ; 
 His warm devoted soul no terror knows, 
 
 And truth and love lend fervour to his song. 
 
 She hides her face upon her couch, that there 
 She may not see him die. No groan, she springs 
 
 Frantic between a hope-beam and despair, 
 
 And twines her long hair round him as he sings. (14-)
 
 82 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 XCIX. 
 
 Then thus : " Oh ! Being ! who unseen but near 
 Art hovering now, behold and pity me ! 
 
 For love, hope, beauty, music, all that's dear, 
 Look, look on me, and spare my agony ! 
 
 C. 
 
 " Spirit ! in mercy, make me not the cause, 
 The hateful cause, of this kind being's death ! 
 
 In pity kill me first ! He lives he draws 
 
 Thou wilt not blast ? he draws his harmless breath. 
 
 CI. 
 
 Still lives Altheetor; still unguarded strays 
 One hand o'er his fall'n lyre ; but all his soul 
 
 Is lost, given up; he fain would turn to gaze, 
 But cannot turn, so twined. Now, all that stole 
 
 Through every vein, and thrilled each separate nerve, 
 Himself could not have told, all wound and elapsed 
 
 In her white arms and hair. Ah ! can they serve 
 
 To save him ? " What a sea of sweets ! " he gasped, 
 
 But 'twas delight : sound, fragrance, all were breathing. 
 
 Still swell'd the transport, " Let me look and thank :" 
 He sighed (celestial smiles his lip enwreathing), 
 
 " I die but ask no more," he said and sank ;
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 83 
 
 Still by her arms supported lower lower- 
 As by soft sleep oppress'd ; so calm, so fair 
 
 He rested on the purple tap'stried floor, 
 It seemed an angel lay reposing there. 
 
 CII. 
 Egla bent o'er him, all amazed ; awhile 
 
 Thank'd God, the Spirit, and her stars (so much 
 Like life his gently closing lids and smile); 
 
 Then felt upon his heart. Ah ! to that touch 
 
 Responds no quivering pulse : 'tis past. Then burst 
 Her grief thus from her inmost heart, that bleeds : 
 
 " Nay, finish ! fiend, unpitying and accurst ! 
 
 Finish, and rid me too, of life, and of thy deeds ! " 
 
 cm. 
 She hid her face in both her hands ; and when, 
 
 At length, look'd out, a form was bending o'er 
 The good, the beauteous boy. With piteous ken 
 
 It sought her eye, but still to speak forbore. 
 
 CIV. 
 A deep unutterable anguish kept 
 
 The silence long ; then from his inmost breast 
 The Spirit spoke, " Oh ! were I him so wept, 
 
 Daughter of earth, I tell thee I were blest:
 
 84 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 CV. 
 " Couldst thou conceive but half the pain I bear, 
 
 Or agent of what good I fain would be, 
 I had not added to my deep despair 
 
 And heavy curse, another curse from thee. 
 
 CVI. 
 
 " I've loved the youth ; since first to this vile court 
 I followed thee, from the deserted cave ; 
 
 I saw him in thy arms and did not hurt ; 
 What could 1 more ? alas 1 I could not save ! 
 
 CVII. 
 " He died of love ; or the o'erperfect joy (15) 
 
 Of being pitied, prayed for, prest by thee. 
 Oh ! for the fate of that devoted boy 
 
 I'd sell my birth-right to eternity. 
 
 CVIII. 
 " I am not the cause of this thy last distress. 
 
 Nay ! look upon thy Spirit ere he flies ! 
 Look on me, once, and learn to hate me less ! " 
 
 He said : and tears fell fast from his immortal eyes. 
 
 CIX. 
 Her looks were on the corse ; no more he said ; 
 
 Deeper the darkness grew : 'twas near the dawn ; 
 And chilled and sorrowing through the air he sped, 
 
 And in Hircania's deepest shades, ere morn,
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 85 
 
 Was hidden 'mid the leaves. Low moan'd the blast, 
 And chilly mists obscured the rising sun ; 
 
 So bitter were his tears, that, where he past, 
 Was blighted every flower they fell upon. 
 
 Wild was the place, but wilder his despair : 
 Low shaggy rocks that o'er deep caverns scowl 
 
 Echo his groans: the tigress, in her lair, 
 
 Starts at the sound, and answers with a growl. 
 
 CXI. 
 
 Theday wore on ; the tide of transport through 
 He listened to the forest's murmuring sound ; 
 
 Until his grief alleviation drew, 
 
 From the according horrors that surround. 
 
 And thus, at length his plaintive lip expressed 
 
 The mitigated pang; 'tis sometimes so 
 When grief meets genius in the mortal breast, 
 
 And words, most deeply sweet, betray subsided woe. 
 
 " Thou'rt gone, AUheetor; of thy gentle breath 
 Guiltless am I, but bear the penalty ! 
 
 Oh ! is there one to whom thine early death 
 Can cause the sorrow it has caused to me ?
 
 86 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 CXIV. 
 
 " Cold, cold, and hush'd, is that fond, faithful breast ; 
 
 Oh ! of the breath of God too much was there ! 
 It swelled, aspired, it could not be compressed 
 
 But gained a bliss frail nature could not bear. (16) 
 
 " Oh ! good and true beyond thy mortal birth ! 
 
 What high-soul'd angel helped in forming thee ' 
 Haply thou wert what I had been, if earth 
 
 Had been the element composing me. 
 
 " Banish'd from heaven so long, what there transpires, 
 
 This weary exiled ear may rarely meet. 
 But it is whispered that the unquelled desires 
 
 Another spirit for each forfeit seat, (17) 
 
 " Left vacant by our fall. That spirit placed 
 
 In mortal form, must every trial bear, 
 Midst all that can pollute ; and, if defaced 
 
 But by one stain, it may not enter there. 
 
 .jfl.v L.'jiji-uL'js vfc-iietl :L . 
 
 CXVII. 
 " Though all the earth is wing'd, from bound to bound ; 
 
 Though heaven desires, and angels watch, and pray 
 To see their ranks with fair completion crowned ; 
 So few to bless their utmost search are found, 
 
 That half in heaven have ceased to hope the day; 
 And pensive seraphs' sighs o'er heavenly harps resound.
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 87 
 
 CXVIII. 
 
 " And when, long wandering from his blissful height, 
 One like to thee some quick-eyed spirit views, 
 
 He springs to heaven, more radiant from delight, 
 
 And heaven's blue domes ring loud with rapture at the 
 
 " Yet oft the being, by all heaven beloved, 
 (So doubtful every good, in world like this ;) 
 
 Some fiend corrupts ere ripe to be removed : 
 
 And tears are seen in eyes made but to float in bliss. 
 
 " Thou'lt take perchance, Altheetor, (who so pure, 
 That may if thou mayst not ?) mid the bright throng, 
 
 My high, my forfeit place ; love would secure 
 Its prize; so kill'd thee, ere below too long. 
 
 CXXI. 
 " Decay shall ne'er thy perfect form defile, 
 
 Nor hungry flame consume. In dews I'll steep 
 Thy limbs ; and thou shall look upon the pile 
 
 As gentle as a maiden, fallen asleep 
 
 " 'Mid musings of ideal bliss ; and making 
 Of her wild hopes, lit up by fancy's beam, 
 
 A fairer lover than may woo her waking ; 
 
 Blest to her wish alone in soft ecstatic dream.
 
 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 CXX1I. 
 " And I will steal thee, when the perfumes rise* 
 
 Around the cassia wood in smoky wave ; 
 I'll shroud thee in a mist from mortal eyes, 
 
 And gently lay thee in some sparry cave 
 
 " Of Paros ; there, seek out some kindly Gnome 
 
 And see him ('mid his lamps of airy light), 
 By wonderous process, done in earth's dark womb, 
 
 Change thee, smile, lip, hair, all, to marble pure and 
 white. 
 
 CXXIII. 
 " Oh ! my loved Hyacinth ! when as a god 
 
 I hurled the disk ; and from thy hapless head 
 The pure sweet blood made flowers upon the sod ; (18) 
 
 'Twas thus I wept thee ! beautiful but dead, 
 
 " Like all I've loved. Oriel, false fiend, thy breathf 
 Guided my weapon : come ! most happy thou 
 
 If my pain please : I mourn another death : 
 
 Come, with thy insect wings, I'll hear thy mockery now. 
 
 * The Assyrians, Persians, and Medians, are said not to have 
 burned their dead ; but the mother of Altheetor was an Ionian ; the 
 only reason that can be assigned for Zophiel's supposing he would 
 be burnt after the Grecian manner. 
 
 j- See fable of Zephyr and Hyacinth. Oriel is supposed to shew 
 himself to mortals as Zephyrus, while Phraerion in reality nurses 
 and protects the flowers.
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 89 
 
 CXXIV. 
 
 ' Thou didst not change his blood to purple flowers : 
 Thy poisonous breath can blight but not create ! 
 
 Thou canst but hover o'er Phraerion's bowers, 
 And claim of men the honours of his state. 
 
 " Thou kill'st my Hyacinth ; but yet a beam 
 Of comfort still was mine : I saw preserved 
 
 His beauty all entire ; and gave a gleam 
 
 Of him to a young burning Greek ; so served 
 
 " Thy crime a worthy cause ; for long inspired, 
 
 With a consuming wish, that Grecian's heart, 
 Lost to repose, so caught what it desired ; 
 
 And soon the chiselled stone glowed with a wondrous 
 art."* 
 
 cxxvi. 
 While thus, the now half-solaced Zophiel brings 
 
 Food to his soul, past o'er his gloomier mood : 
 He shakes his ringlets, spreads his pinions, springs 
 
 From that rude seat, and leaves the mazy wood. 
 
 Zophiel, as may be perceived, since his first introduction, is 
 supposed to be that fallen angel who was adored by mortals as 
 the god Apollo. This manner of imparting to a young artist 
 excellence in sculpture, is not, therefore, out of character.
 
 90 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 CXXVII. 
 That morn o'er Ecbatane rose pale and slow ; 
 
 Thick lingering night-damps clog the morning's breath, 
 And veil'd the sun that rose with floody glow, 
 
 As if great nature's heart bled for the recent death. 
 
 CXXVII I. 
 White-haired Idaspes from the fatal room 
 
 Bade his own slaves love's loveliest victim bring, 
 Fresh, fair, but cold ; and in that lurid gloom 
 
 Set forth the funeral couch, and show'd him to the 
 king. 
 
 CXXIX. 
 And drew away the tunic from the scar 
 
 Seen on his cold white breast ; " And is it thou ?" 
 He said, " when treachery wings her darts afar, 
 What faithful heart will be presented now ! 
 
 cxxx. 
 
 " Alas ! alas ! that ever these old eyes 
 
 Should see Altheetor thus ! where is there one, 
 
 When lowly in the earth Idaspes lies, 
 
 Will love and guard his prince as thou hast done ?" 
 
 CXXXI. 
 
 Sardius believed he slept : but undeceived. 
 Soon as he found that faithful heart was cold, 
 
 He turned away his radiant brow and grieved, 
 And, at that moment, freely would have sold
 
 DEATH OF ALTHEETOR. 91 
 
 CXXXII. 
 The diadem, that from his locks he tore, 
 
 For that one life. Idaspes watched his mood, 
 And (ere the first fierce burst of grief was o'er 
 
 While lost Altheetor's every pulse) pursued 
 
 With guardian skill, the kindly deep design, 
 He probed the king's light changeful heart ; and gained 
 
 A promise that the maid of Palestine, 
 
 Until twelve moons had o'er his garden waned, 
 
 Should live in banishment from court. So sent 
 To muse, in peace, upon her unknown love 
 
 (So long announced) dejected Egla went 
 With all her house; and seeks her own acacia 
 grove. (19) 
 
 Cuba. Pueblo Nuevo. June 1327.
 
 NOTES 
 
 TO 
 
 CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 (1) " In every full deep flower that crowned his paradise." 
 
 THE Medes and Persians were accustomed to retire to delicious 
 gardens, which were called paradises. 
 
 Josephus, speaking of a powerful Babylonian king-, says : " He 
 erected elevated places, for walking, of stone, and made them 
 resemble mountains ; and built them so that they might be planted 
 with all sorts of trees. He also erected what was called a pensile 
 paradise, because his wife was desirous to have things like her own 
 country, she having been bred up in the palaces of Media." 
 
 The same custom is still continued in the east, where people of 
 distinction pass their most pleasant hours in the pavilions or kiosks 
 of their gardens. 
 
 (2) And to kis manes let my life-blood /ow." 
 Elga might have heard of the gods manes from some wander- 
 ing Ionian. The Greeks attributed four distinct parts to man ; 
 the body which is resolved tc dust ; the soul which, as they ima- 
 gined, passed to Tartarus or the Elysian fields, according to its 
 merits ; the image which inhabited the Infernal vestibule ; and 
 the shade which wandered about the sepulchre : this last they were 
 accustomed to invoke three times? and libations were poured out to
 
 94 NOTES TO CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 tliis as well as to the gods manes, who were the genii of the dead, 
 and had the care of their sepulchres and wandering shades. See 
 Travels ofAwtenar. 
 
 The Jews, besides, at the time this scene is supposed to have 
 transpired, began to be imbued with the Chaldaic superstitions or 
 belief. " The modern Jews," says Father Augustin Calmet, 
 " hold the souls of men to be spiritual and immortal, but that thej T 
 sometimes appear again, as well as good and evil daemons ; that 
 the souls of the Hebrews are never visible either in hell or para- 
 dise, except their bodies are buried; that even after they are 
 buried, the soul makes frequent excursions from its destined resi- 
 dence to visit its former body and enquire into its condition ; that 
 it wanders about for a full year after its first separation from the 
 body ; and that it was before the expiration of this year that the 
 Witch of Endor called up the soul of SamueL" 
 
 Origen and Theophylact say also that the Jews and Heathens 
 believed the soul to continue near the body for some time after the 
 death of the person. Calmet. 
 
 Origen, in his second book against Celsus, (continues the reve- 
 rend Father Dom Augustin Calmet) relates and subscribes to the 
 opinion of Plato, who says " that the shadows and images of the 
 dead, which are seen near sepulchres, are nothing but the soul 
 disengaged from its gross body, but not yet entirely freed from 
 matter." From the same old book, which is probably read by few, 
 I cannot forbear transcribing the following curious account, which, 
 however impossible, appears to have been, at one time, generally 
 believed s 
 
 " If there is any truth in what we are told by the learned Digby, 
 Chancellor to Henrietta Queen of England, by Father Kircher, a 
 celebrated Jesuit, by Father Schott of the same order, and by 
 Gafferell and Vallemont, concerning the wonderful mystery of the 
 Palingenesis, or resurrection of plants, it will help to account for 
 the shades and phantoms which many will confidently assert they 
 have seen in church-yards."
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE SECOND. 1)5 
 
 The account which these curious naturalists give of their per- 
 forming the wonderful operation of the Palingenesis, is as follows; 
 
 " They take a flower and burn it to ashes, from which, being 
 collected with great care, they extract all the salts by calcination. 
 These salts they put into a glass vial, and having added to them a 
 certain compositon which has a property of putting the ashes in 
 motion upon the application of heat, the whole becomes a tine dust 
 of a bluish colour. From this dust, when agitated by a gentle heat, 
 there arises gradually a stalk, leaves, and then a flower ; in short, 
 there is seen the apparition of a plant rising out of the ashes. When 
 the heat ceases, the whole show disappears, and the dust falls into 
 its former chaos at the bottom of the vessel. The return of heat 
 always raises, out of its ashes, this vegetable phoenix, which 
 derives its life from the presence of this genial warmth, and dies 
 as soon as it is withdrawn." 
 
 Then follows the manner in which Father Kircher endeavours to 
 account for the wonderful phenomenon, and the author continues 
 with an assertion that the members of the Royal Society at Lon- 
 don had (as he was informed) made the same experiment upon a 
 sparrow, and were then hoping to make it succeed upon men. 
 
 (3) " yet, such things are." 
 
 In the whole catalogue of all the crimes and cruelties ever re- 
 corded since the invention of letters, there is nothing so horrid to 
 the imagination as the simple fact of the existence of desire in the 
 immediate presence of death and carnage. Peter the Great, Czar 
 of Muscovy, killed several of his soldiers with his own hand, at 
 the taking of Narva, to prevent the same atrocity related of Philo- 
 mars in the text. 
 
 " Jornandes reconte " (says Monsieur de Chateaubriand) " que 
 des sorcieres chassees loin des habitations, des hommes dans les 
 deserts de la Scythie, furent visitees par des demons et de cot 
 commerce sortir la nation des Huns." Deeds are still done which 
 might well serve to prove a similar origin.
 
 86 NOTES TO CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 (4) " And snow-white Egla, mild, and chaste, and fair, 
 
 Came o'er his fancy" 
 
 The love of Sardius for Egla resembles that of Cyrus for Aspasia 
 or Milto, of whom the Chevalier de Lentier gives the following 
 account: "Aspasia being brought to Sardis by one of the satraps 
 of Cyrus, was compelled to come into the presence of that prince 
 with many other women. While the rest, by every art, endea- 
 voured to attract his attention, Milto stood at a distance, with her 
 eyes fixed upon the earth ; and Cyrus was so charmed with the 
 singularity of her modesty (or, more probably, of her beauty) that 
 he dismissed all beside, and remained a long time attached to this 
 favourite." 
 
 (5) with black 
 
 To tip the eyelid, stain the finger, deck 
 The cheek with hues that languor bids it lack." 
 
 The arts practised by women to heighten their beauty, were 
 supposed to have been taught them by fallen angels. 
 
 " Dans le livre de la parure des femmes, chap. 2. Tertulien 
 explique, plus au long, pourquoi le demon et ses mauvais anges 
 apprirent, autre fois, aux femmes Tart de se farder et les moyens 
 d'embellir leurs corps. Us volurent, sans doute, dit il, les recom- 
 penser des faveurs qu'elles leurs avoient accordes : Tertulien 
 suppose done qu'il y avoit eu un mauvais commerce entre les mau- 
 vais anges et les femmes. 
 
 " Ce paradox n'est pas particulier a Tertulien que plusieurs 
 autres peres de 1'Eglise devant et apres lui ne 1'aient pas avance. 
 
 " Mais cette erreur a et solidement refutee par St Chrisostome, 
 St Augustin, St Epiphane, &c. 
 
 " A 1'occasion de cet etrange commerce, notre auteur fait une 
 reflection qui passe les bornes de la raillerie. Les demons, dit il 
 sont venu trouver les filles des hommes : tout demons qu'il sont, 
 ils en ont etc favorablement re^us ; il ne manquoit que cette 
 ignominie aux femmes, ut haec ignominia foeminae accedat. Nam
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE SECOND. 97 
 
 turn et materias qnasdatn bene occultas et artes plurasque non bene 
 revelatas, seculo, multo magis imperito prodidissent (siquidem et 
 tnetallorum opera nudaverant et herbarum ingenia traduxerant et 
 incantationum vires promulgaverant et omnem cnriositatem usque 
 ad stellarum interpretationem designaverant) proprie et qnasi 
 peculiariter foeminis instrumentum istud muliebris glorias contule- 
 runt : lumina lapillorum, quibus brachia arctantur ; et medicamenta 
 ex fiico, quibus lanae colorantur et ilium ipsum nigrem pulverem, 
 quo oculorum exordia producantur." 
 
 The above extract is from a French translation, or rather com- 
 pendiuni, of Tertullian, which was sent me by Monsieur Van 
 Prae't, from the Bibliotheque du Roi at Paris. But as many of the 
 most curious passages were entirely omitted, the same gentleman 
 was so obliging as to look for the Latin folio, containing that very 
 amusing article of Tertullian, entitled De Habitu Muliebri ; from 
 which I had intended to have given, in this note, a longer extract, 
 written out for me by Baron Joseph de Palm ; from whose very 
 beautiful German verses two inadequate translations will appear in 
 this volume. The extract, however, was accidentally left at Paris ; 
 and Zophiel being reviewed and arranged for the last time at 
 TCeswick (England) I fear it may not reach me soon enough to be 
 inserted. 
 
 (6) " With wreaths of gems, or made or found by Aim, 
 Or his enamoured brothers, ishen they bore 
 Love for the tike." 
 
 This passage, like the preceding one, is simply in pursuance of 
 the belief of Tertullian, that the custom of arraying themselves 
 with gold and gems was first taught to beautiful women by their 
 angel lovers, who understood chemistry, and imparted to them, 
 among other ornamental arts, that of preparing colours for dying 
 their garments and heightening the beauty of their complexions. 
 But the sage Comte de Gabalis says that gnomes are the guardians 
 of minerals and precious stones. I know not what origin he
 
 98 NOTES TO CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 ascribes to his " peuples des elemens," but he expressly affirms 
 that no sylphe or sylphide, gnome or gnomide, can be immortal, 
 unless united with a son or daughter of earth. Those who have 
 any curiosity to know more, must, I suppose, consult those learned 
 authors whom he names in the following passage : 
 
 " En croyez vous, dit il, plus a votre nourice qu'a la raison 
 naturelle qu'a Platon, Pythagore, Celse, Psellus, Procle, Porphyre, 
 Plotin, Trismegiste, Nolius, Dornee, Fludd ; qu'au grand Philippe 
 Aureole Theophraste Bombast Paracelse de Hohenheim, et qu'a 
 tous nos compagnons ? " 
 
 After describing the people of earth, air, fire, and water, the 
 sage continues " II y avoit beaucoup de proportion entre Adam 
 et ces creatures si parfaites ; parce qu'etant compos^ de se qu'il y 
 avoit de plus pur dans les quatre elemens il renfermoit les perfec- 
 tions de ces quatre especes de peuples, et etoit leur roi naturel. 
 Mais des-lors que son pech Feut precipite dans les particles les 
 plus viles des elemens, comme vouz verrez quelque fois, 1'harmonie 
 fut deconcertee, et il (Adam) n'eut plus de proportion, etant impur 
 et grosier avec ces substance si purs et si subtiles." 
 
 (7) " Slight bandelets were twined of colours Jive." 
 
 There is a German work by Hartmann, on the toilette of Hebrew 
 women, which those who are curious on the subject may do well to 
 consult. 
 
 The father Calmet has also written a dissertation on the dress 
 of the ancient Hebrews, which the French translator of Tertullian 
 says, " Ne prouve pas clairement sa proposition." M. de Chateau- 
 briand introduces his Cymodocee (when arrayed for a religious 
 ceremony, after her conversion to Christianity) in the same costume 
 chosen by Egla for the banquet of Sardius. 
 
 (8) "And oft his mother, vain in her delight, 
 
 Boasted she owed him to a God's embrace." 
 The Christian fathers did not in the least doubt that manv of the
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE SECOND. 99 
 
 heroes of antiquity were really so produced. They, however, 
 supposed that their fathers were some of the banished angels, who 
 assumed, at pleasure, the forms of those gods, under whose names 
 they caused themselves to be adored. 
 
 (9) "Not Eva, lovelier than the tints of air."" 
 
 The beauty which the antediluvian women must have possessed, 
 in order to be such a temptation to angels as the Christian fathers 
 supposed them to have been, agrees with the account of " Rabadan 
 the Morisco," whose poem is said, by Dr Southey, to contain " the 
 fullest Mahommedan Genesis." 
 
 The Creator, having formed the earth and adjusted his plan of 
 procedure, summoned his angels, and requested that one of them 
 might descend and bring him soil or clay wherewith to make a 
 man ; but the angels unanimously expressed a reluctance to what 
 they could but consider a loathsome and debasing office. Azarael, 
 however, an angel of extraordinary stature, flew down, and col- 
 lected the material required from the north, east, south, and west, 
 of the new-made earth. " Azarael," said the Creator, " thou 
 shalt, in reward of thine obedience, be him who separateth the 
 souls from the bodies of the creatures I am about to make : hence- 
 forth be called Azarael Malec el Mout, or Azarael, the angel of 
 death." 
 
 The Creator then caused the earth which Azarael had brought 
 to be washed and purified in the fountains of heaven, till it became 
 so resplendently clear, that it cast a more shining and beautiful 
 light than the sun in its utmost glory. Gabriel was then com- 
 manded to carry this lovely though as yet inanimate statue of clay 
 throughout the heavens, the earth, the centres, and the seas. 
 
 When the angels saw so beautiful an image, they said, " Lord, 
 if it be pleasing in thy sight, we will, in thy most high and mighty 
 name, prostrate ourselves before it." This proposal meeting the 
 approbation of the Creator, the angels all bowed, inclining their 
 celestial countenances at the feet of the inanimate Adam.
 
 100 NOTES TO CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 Eblis or Lucifer was the only one who refused, proudly valuing: 
 himself upon his heavenly composition; whereupon the Creator 
 said to him, with extreme sternness, " Prostrate thyself to Adam." 
 He made a show of doing so, but remained upon his knees, and 
 then rose up before he had performed what God had commanded 
 him. 
 
 The other "angels, seeing him so refractory, prostrated them- 
 selves a second time, in order to complete what he had left undone. 
 For this reason the Mahommedans, in all their prayers, at each 
 inclination of the body, made two prostrations, one immediately 
 after the other See Rabadan. 
 
 (10) " That farm, all panting 'neath her yellow hair" 
 Milton has described the hair of the first woman as of a 
 yellow or goMen tint. This colour appears to have been admired 
 from the most remote antiquity. Indeed, when fine eyes and sym- 
 metry of outline are united with a white transparent skin and hair 
 of this colour in profusion, the form so constructed and adorned 
 seems more than mortal. Persons of this complexion are generally 
 of tender, voluptuous dispositions, and not naturally addicted to the 
 passions of hatred and revenge. Such however are extremely rare ; 
 and unless by the race of artists, seem, at present, less appreciated 
 than beauties of a darker shade. Black hair and eyes embellish, 
 very much, a common face and person ; and could one look entirely 
 over the world, the aggregate of comeliness would, perhaps, be 
 found greater among the dark than among the fair-haired nations. 
 
 The Athenian ladies, so late as the time of Alcibiades, wore a 
 yellow powder in their hair to give it the appearance of gold. 
 
 Josephus writes that king Solomon caused many of the finest 
 horses, of those presented him by neighbouring princes, to be rid- - 
 den by young men, chosen at the most beautiful period of their 
 lives, and remarkable for stature aud symmetry of person. These, 
 dressed in the rich colours of Tyre, wore their hair long, and 
 sprinkled with dust. This king, so renowned for his wisdom, de-
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE SECOND. 101 
 
 serves to be still more so for his taste. The murder of his brother," 
 however, though so little mentioned, is a very dark blot on his 
 character. Pleasure is too generally selfish and cruel. 
 
 (11) "And round his neck an amulet he wore, 
 Of many a gem in mystic mazes tied." 
 
 Men of all countries and ages have put faith in these talismans ; 
 the Egyptians have left a great number : they wore them on the 
 neck, in the form of little cylinders, ornamented with figures and 
 hieroglyphics. 
 
 " Les Grecs faisoient aussi un grand usage des amulettes ; ils 
 attribuerent des propricts surnaturelles an laurier, au saule, aux 
 arbrisseux epineux, au jaspe, a presque tous les pierres pre- 
 cieuses." Voyages d'Antenor. 
 
 " The Arabs" (says Shaw) " hang about their children's necks 
 the figure of an open hand, which the Turks and Moors paint upon 
 their ships and houses, as an antidote and counter-charm to an evil 
 eye. Those who are grown up still carry about with them some 
 paragraph or other of their Koran, which, as the Jews did their 
 phylacteries, they place upon their breast, or sew under their caps, 
 to prevent fascination and witchcraft, and to secure themselves 
 from sickness and misfortune. The virtue of these charms and 
 scrolls is supposed, likewise, to be so far universal, that they sus- 
 pend them upon the necks of their cattle, horses, and other beasts 
 of burden." 
 
 The most wonderful properties were ascribed to precious stones, 
 some detected the presence of poison, others made ineffectual the 
 power of evil spirits and magicians. 
 
 " Giafar, the founder of the Barmecides, being obliged to fly 
 from Persia, his native country, took refuge at Damascus, and 
 implored the protection of the Caliph Soliman. When he was 
 presented to that prince, the Caliph suddenly changed colour, and 
 commanded him to retire, suspecting he had poison about him. 
 
 * As related by Josephus.
 
 102 NOTES TO CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 Soliman had discovered it by means of ten stones which he wore 
 upon his arm. They were fastened there like a bracelet, and never 
 failed to strike against each other and make a slight noise, when 
 any poison was near. Upon enquiry, it was found that Giafar 
 carried poison in his ring, for the purpose of self-destruction, in 
 case he had been taken by his enemies." Marigny. 
 
 Sir Walter Scott avails himself, very beautifully, of that power 
 of detecting poison attributed to the Opal. 
 
 Belief in the efficacy of amulets is too pleasing to be easily laid 
 aside ; and probably will, in some degree, exist as long as the pain 
 of fear or the pleasure of security. I was shown, last evening, in 
 company with a young Greek of Athens, an amulet which had 
 belonged to his deceased companion. It was a little square case, 
 of silver, suspended from a chain, in order to be worn about the 
 neck in the manner of a miniature. On the outside were three 
 small figures in relief; the Saviour, Mary, and Martha ; and the 
 case contained a thin slip of light-coloured wood, about an inch in 
 breadth, and an inch a half in length, delicately carved, and 
 representing a figure on horseback. This wood was supposed, by 
 its former possessor, to be a fragment of the real cross. The 
 Greek youth in whose presence it was shewn, has been educated 
 by a gentleman of the south of England, and now living at the foot 
 of Skiddaw with his enchanting lady. The protectors are all 
 generosity, the youth all gratitude ; and nothing can be more inte- 
 resting than their family circle. The latter recollected some of 
 the airs of his native country, which were wild and sweet, and, 
 accompanied by the pianoforte, had a fine effect ; and it was diffi- 
 cult to forbear thinking of those lyres which, once, might possibly 
 have thrilled to them. 
 
 Keswick, April 19, 1831.; 
 
 (12) " By magic skill, some philtre with his wine." 
 
 The ancients were much addicted to this practice, and sometimes 
 
 died in consequence of mixtures secretly thrown into their drink or
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE SECOND. 103 
 
 food, for the purpose of securing their love for particular persons. 
 A pretty incident of the kind is introduced into that very enter- 
 taining 1 work, " Les Voyages d'Antenor." According to Josephus, 
 the immediate cause of the execution of Mariarane was Herod's 
 fear of such experiments. Sending for this Queen, in a violent fit 
 of fondness, he met nothing hut coldness and reproaches in return; 
 and while stung to the soul at her behaviour, his mother and sister 
 took the opportunity to inform him that Mariamne had prepared for 
 him a love-potion. 
 
 (13) " Or there's in her blue eye some wicked light" 
 The fear of hurtful influences emanating from the eyes of persons 
 suspected of magic was common to most nations of antiquity ; and 
 perhaps, is not yet entirely laid aside in some parts of Europe. 
 
 " Les Thessaliens, les Illyriens, et les Triballes etoient clebre 
 par leurs enchantemens. Les derniers, selon Pline, pouvoient 
 faire perir des animaux et des enfans par leurs seule regards. 
 
 " Les anciens craignoient les regards des envieux autaut pour 
 euxmemes que pour leurs enfans ; c'est pourquoi ils attachoient 
 les memes amulettes au cou de leurs enfans : ils en mettoient aux 
 jambs des portes, de maniere qu'en les ouvraut on agitoit ces 
 phallus, et on ebranloit les clochettes." Voyages d'Antenor. 
 
 (14) " And twines her long hair round him as he sings." 
 
 This act was often resorted to as the most forcible manner of 
 imploring protection. When the young Prince Cyrus was brought 
 before his brother, Artaxerxes, whose throne he had attempted to 
 usurp, Parysates, his mother, entwined him with her hair, and by 
 tears and entreaties succeeded in saving him from death. 
 
 (15) " fie died of love ; or the o'erperfectjoy 
 
 Of being pitied, prayed for, prest by thee." 
 
 Zimmerman, in his admired work on Solitude, gives an instance 
 af two Italian lovers, who, after having been separated, sprang
 
 104 NOTES TO CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 into each other's embrace, and both died immediately. Joy is 
 seldom perfect enough to kill ; but could it exist as free from the 
 alloy of any other sensation as grief is sometimes felt, it would 
 probably destroy life much sooner from the circumstance of mortal 
 nerves being far less accustomed to it. " Many," says Dr Gold- 
 smith, "die of grief, but who was ever known to die of joy?" 
 Instances of the latter, though rare, are sometimes found. 
 
 I was told by a lady, whose word there was not the least reason 
 to doubt, of a person she had known who was passionately fond of 
 music. She had heard him say, while listening- to a concert of 
 sacred compositions, " I shall certainly die if I hear many more of 
 these strains." A few years afterwards, the same person actually 
 fell dead while assisting at a concert. This happened m a country 
 where education and every custom tends Father to the annihilation 
 than the culture of any deep or violent emotion. 
 
 (16) But gained a bliss frail nature could not bear." 
 Excessive joy, by preventing sleep (as it invariably does, in a 
 
 person capable of feeling it at all) very soon procures for itself a 
 mitigation proceeding from corporeal uneasiness; were this not 
 the case, it would -soon terminate in death or madness, even though 
 not felt in a very unusual degree* 
 
 Past joy is a thing so pleasant to speak upon, that raptures are 
 generally exaggerated in the telling. When really intense, as they 
 are sometimes described, their power to produce death can scarcely 
 be doubted. Every one has heard of Chile's death in the arms of 
 his son, who returned victorious from the Olympic Games. 
 
 (17) it is whispered that the, unquelled desires 
 
 Another spirit for each forfeit seat, 
 
 Left vacant by our fall" 
 
 It was an idea generally entertained by the fathers, that the 
 many vacancies caused by the different orders of angels who fell, 
 through love or ambition, were to be filled up by souls selected
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE SECOND. 105 
 
 from the human species. Another opinion afterwards arose, and 
 was favoured by one or more of the Popes, that it was only the 
 tenth order of the celestial hierarchy which supplied angels, who, 
 hy falling, assimilated themselves to the inhabitants of earth, and 
 that it is only to supply the deficiencies of that grade that the best 
 of mortals will be promoted." Much interesting speculation on 
 this subject may be found in the works of Dionysius, to which I 
 had free access while at Paris, but no time to make extracts or 
 translations. 
 
 (18) Oh ! my laved Hyacinth ! when as a god 
 
 I hurled the disk ; and, from thy hapless head, 
 The pure bright blood made flowers upon the sod." 
 
 This and other passages which serve to identify Zophiel with 
 Apollo, are perfectly conformable to a belief once acknowledged 
 by every Christian. 
 
 An able writer in the North American Review* appears to have 
 read a great deal on the subject ; the following is not irrelative : 
 " Some evil spirits, or fallen angels, whom the fathers had cast 
 out, were compelled by the fire of exorcism to confess that they 
 were the same who had inspired the heathen poets ; and these 
 with all the duties of ' gay religions full of pomp and gold,' were 
 confined to the doom of that infernal host described by Milton. 
 So far were the Christians from denying the existence of any of 
 the beings of Pagan Mythology, that they continually urged, as 
 an argument in favour of the superiority and divinity of their 
 faith, the power which it gave over them; and Eunapius (see 
 Eunapius' life of Porphyry in his Vita? Philosophorum) very 
 gravely mentions the story of Porphyry's expelling a demon." 
 
 M. de Fontenelle wrote his < Histoire des Oracles' expressly 
 to prove that heathen temples were not inhabited by demons or 
 
 The above extract is from an article entitled ' Ancient and Modern Poetry,' 
 which appeared sometime between the years twenty-one and four.
 
 106 NOTES TO CANTO THE SECOND. 
 
 fallen angels. In that work is found the following oracle ex- 
 tracted from the writings of Eusebius. " Unhappy priest (said 
 Apollo to one of his ministers,) ask me no more concerning the 
 divine Father ; nor of his only Son ; nor of that Spirit which is the 
 soul of all things : it is that spirit which expels me for ever from 
 these abodes." 
 
 (19) dejected Egla went 
 
 With all her house ; and seeks her own acacia grove." 
 
 The facility with which the young king of Media forgets his 
 beautiful captive, setting aside the effect produced by the pre- 
 mature death of Altheetor his preserver, agrees perfectly with 
 the following description. 
 
 u Nous rencoutrames une troupe a cheval leste et brillant, a la 
 tete de laquelle etoit le jeune Pharnabaze, 1'air serein et radieux, 
 faisant caracoler son cheval, et plaisantant avec ses camarades ; 
 j'en fas etourdis : je Tavois vue, la veille, desesper ; s'arrachant 
 les cheveux, se jettant sur le corps de la belle Statira ; invoquant 
 la mort, voulant se poignarder ; et, deja, la rire, le plaisir, avoit 
 succedes a ce grand desespoir." Voyages rf Anterior.
 
 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES.
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Midnight. Zophiel and Phraerion sit conversing together near a 
 ruin on the banks of the Tigris. Zophiel laments his former 
 crimes ; speaks of a change in his designs ; dwells on the purity of 
 his love for Egla ; and expresses a wish to preserve her life and 
 beauty beyond the period allotted to mortals. Phraerion is induced 
 to lead the way to the palace of Tahathyam. Palace and banquet of 
 Gnomes. Zophiel, by force of entreaty and promise, obtains from 
 Tahathyam a drop of the elixir of life.
 
 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 
 
 I. 
 'Tis now the hour of mirth, the hour of love, ] 
 
 The hour of melancholy : Night, as vain 
 Of her full beauty, seems to pause above, 
 
 That all may look upon her ere it wane. 
 
 II. 
 
 The heavenly angel watched his subject's star (1) 
 O'er all that's good and fair benignly smiling; 
 
 The sighs of wounded love he hears, from far ; 
 
 Weeps that he cannot heal, and wafts a hope beguiling. 
 
 III. 
 The nether earth looks beauteous as a gem ; 
 
 High o'er her groves in floods of moonlight laving, 
 The towering palm displays his silver stem,* 
 
 The while his plumy leaves scarce in the breeze are waving. 
 
 * The trunk of the palm-tree is of a light dove or ash-colour, 
 and assumes a silvery appearance by moonlight.
 
 110 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 The nightingale among his roses sleeps ; 
 
 The soft-eyed doe in thicket deep is sleeping ; 
 The dark green myrrh her tears of fragrance weeps, (2) 
 
 And, every odorous spike * in limpid dew is steeping. 
 
 Proud prickly cerea, now thy blossom 'scapes (3) 
 Its cell ; brief cup of light; and seems to say, 
 
 " I am not for gross mortals : blood of grapes 
 And sleep for them ! Come spirits, while ye may ! 
 
 A silent stream winds darkly through the shade, 
 And slowly gains the Tigris, where 'tis lost ; 
 
 By a forgotten prince, of old, 'twas made,-f- 
 And, in its course, full many a fragment crost 
 
 - * For an account of the "spikenard of the ancients," Sir Wil- 
 liam Jones maybe referred to with pleasure. One species of it 
 is said to have been discovered by the horses and elephants of the 
 vazir Afufaddaulah. " If the spikenard of India was a reed or 
 grass, we can never be able to discover it among the genera of 
 those natural orders which, here, form a wilderness of sweets, and 
 some of them have not only fragrant roots, but even spikes, to the 
 ancient and modern sense of that emphatical word." 
 
 ( The ancients throughout Syria (though ignorant of some use- 
 ful principles discovered by modern science) were very skilful in 
 hydraulics. Some of the earlier kings of that country had gardens 
 with fountains and artificial streams, without the walls of Jerusalem, 
 in a place which is now a parched and barren desert. See Josephus.
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. Ill 
 
 Of marble fairly carved ; and by its side 
 Her golden dust the flaunting lotos threw 
 
 O'er her white sisters, throned upon the tide, 
 
 And queen of every flower that loves perpetual dew. 
 
 Gold-sprinkling lotos, theme of many a song 
 
 By slender Indian warbled to his fair ! 
 Still tastes the stream thy rosy kiss, though long 
 
 Has been but dust the hand that placed thee there.* 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The little temple where its relics rest, 
 Long since has fallen ; its broken columns lie 
 
 Beneath the lucid stream, and give its breast 
 A whitened glimmer as 'tis stealing by. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Here, cerea, too, thy clasping mazes twine f 
 
 The only pillar time has left erect ; 
 Thy serpent arms embrace it, as 'twere thine, 
 
 And roughly mock the beam it should reflect. 
 
 * Of all the varieties of this celebrated flower, the red or rose- 
 coloured is the most admired for its fragrance ; the white and 
 yellow give a fainter odour ; and the azure-coloured lotos, which is 
 a native of Persia and Cashmir, is perhaps the most beautiful of all. 
 
 f* The night-blooming cereus is fond of clasping rocks, old walls, 
 or fallen trees. It grows in profusion where these verses were 
 written (Cuba) and produces a fruit not unpleasant to the taste.
 
 112 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 X. 
 
 An ancient prince, in happy madness blest, 
 Was wont to wander to this spot ; and deem'd 
 
 A water nymph came to him, and carest 
 
 And loved him well; haply he only dream'd ; 
 
 But on the spot a little dome arose, 
 
 And flowers were set that still in wildness bloom ; 
 And the cold ashes that were him, repose, 
 
 Carefully shrined in this lone ivory tomb. 
 
 XI. 
 
 It is a place so strangely wild and sweet, 
 That spirits love to come ; and now, upon 
 
 A moonlight fragment, Zophiel chose his seat, 
 In converse close with soft Phraerion; 
 
 XII. 
 Who, on the moss, beside him lies reclining, 
 
 O'erstrewn with leaves, from full-blown roses shaken, 
 By nightingales, that on their branches twining, 
 
 The live-long night to love and music waken. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Phraerion, gentle sprite ! nor force nor fire 
 He had to wake in others doubt or fear : 
 
 He'd hear a tale of bliss, and not aspire 
 
 To taste himself; 'twas meet for his compeer.
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 110 
 
 XIV. 
 No soul-creative in this being born, 
 
 Its restless, daring, fond, aspirings hid : 
 Within the vortex of rebellion drawn, 
 
 He joined the shining ranks as others did. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Success but little had advanced ; defeat, 
 
 He thought so little, scarce, to him, were worse; 
 
 And, as he'd held, in heaven, inferior seat, 
 Less was his bliss, and lighter was his curse. 
 
 XVI. 
 He form'd no plans for happiness : content 
 
 To curl the tendrel, fold the bud ; his pain 
 So light, he scarcely felt his banishment. 
 
 Zophiel, perchance, had held him in disdain; 
 
 But, form'd for friendship, from his o'erfraught soul 
 'Twas such relief his burning thoughts to pour 
 
 In other ears, that, oft the strong control 
 
 Of pride he felt them burst, and could restrain no 
 
 Zophiel was soft, but yet all flame ; by turns 
 Love, grief, remorse, shame, pity, jealousy, 
 
 Each boundless in his breast, impels or burns : 
 His joy was bliss, his pain was agony.
 
 114 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 And mild Phraerion was of heaven, and there, 
 Nothing imperfect in its kind can be : 
 
 There every form is fresh, soft, bright, and fair, 
 Yet differing each, with that variety, 
 
 Not least of miracles, which here we trace ; 
 
 And wonder and admire the cause that form'd 
 So like, and yet so different every face, 
 
 Though of the self-same clay by the same process warm'd. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 " Order is heaven's first law." But that obeyed, 
 The planets fixed, the Eternal mind at leisure ; 
 
 A vast profusion spread o'er all it made, 
 
 As if in endless change were found eternal pleasure. 
 
 XVIII. 
 Harmless Phraerion form'd to dwell on high, 
 
 Retain'd the looks that had been his above ; 
 And his harmonious lip and sweet blue eye 
 
 Sooth'd the fallen seraph's heart, and changed his scorn 
 to love, 
 
 Who, when he saw him in some garden pleasant, 
 Happy, because too little thought had he 
 
 To place, in contrast, past delight with present, 
 Had given his soul of fire for that inanity.
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 115 
 
 XIX. 
 
 But oh ! in him the Eternal had infused 
 The restless soul that doth itself devour, 
 
 Unless it can create ; and fallen, misused, 
 But forms the vast design to mourn the feeble power. 
 
 XX. 
 
 In plenitude of love, the Power benign 
 Nearer itself some beings fain would lift ; 
 
 To share its joys, assist its vast design 
 
 With high intelligence ; oh, dangerous gift ! (4) 
 
 XXI. 
 
 iyperior passion, knowledge, force, and fire, 
 The glorious creatures took ; but each the slave 
 
 Of his own strength, soon burnt with wild desire, 
 And basely turn'd it 'gainst the one that gave. 
 
 XXII. 
 But Zophiel, fallen sufferer, now no more 
 
 Thought of the past ; the aspiring voice was mute 
 That urged him on to meet his doom before, 
 . And all dissolved to love each varied attribute. 
 
 XXIII. 
 " Come, my Phraerion, give me an embrace," 
 
 He said. " I hope a respite of repose, 
 Like that respiring from thy sunny face ; 
 
 Even the peace thy guileless bosom knows.
 
 116 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " Rememberest thou that cave of Tigris, where 
 We went with fruits and flowers and meteor light, 
 
 And the fair creature, on the damp rock, there 
 Shining and trembling so ? Ah ! well she might ! 
 
 " False were my words, infernal my intent ; 
 
 Then, as I knelt before her feet and sued ; 
 Yet, still she blooms, uninjured, innocent, 
 
 Though now, for seven long months,* by Zophiel watched 
 and wooed. 
 
 XXV. 
 " Gentle Phraerion, 'tis for her I crave 
 
 Assistance : what I could have blighted then, 
 'Tis now my only care to guard and save ; 
 
 Companion then my airy flight again. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 " Conduct me to those hoards of sweets and dews, 
 Treasured in haunts to all but thee unknown, 
 
 For favorite sprites : teach me their power and use, 
 And whatsoe'er thou wilt, of Zophiel, be it done ! 
 
 * From the blooming of the roses at Ecbatana, to the coming i 
 of spices at Babylon.
 
 VALACE OF GNOMES. 117 
 
 XXVII. 
 *' Throughout fair Ecbatane the deeds I've wrought 
 
 Have cast such dread, that of all Sardius' train 
 I doubt if there be one, from tent or court, 
 
 Who'll try what 'tis to thwart a Spirit's love again. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 " My Egla, left in her acacia grove, 
 
 Has learnt to lay aside that piteous fear 
 That sorrow'd thee ; and I but live to prove 
 
 A love for her as harmless as sincere. 
 
 " Inspirer of the arts of Greece, I charm 
 'Her ear with songs she never heard before ; 
 
 And many an hour of thoughtfulness disarm 
 
 With stories cull'd from that vague, wondrous lore, (5) 
 
 " But seldom told to mortals ; arts on gems 
 Inscribed that still exist ; but hidden so 
 
 From fear of those who told that diadems 
 
 Have pass'd from brows that vainly ached to know : 
 
 " Nor glimpse had mortal, save that those fair things 
 
 Loved, ages past, like her I now adore, 
 Caught from their Angels some low whisperings, 
 
 Then told of them to such as dared not tell them more;
 
 118 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 " But toil'd in lonely nooks far from the eye 
 
 Of shuddering, longing men ; then, buried deep, 
 Till distant ages bade their secrets lie, 
 
 In hopes that time might tell what their dread oaths 
 must keep. 
 
 XXX. 
 " Egla looks on me doubtful but amused ; 
 
 Admires, but trembling, dares not bid me stay ; 
 Yet hour by hour her timid heart, more used, 
 
 Grows to my sight and words ; and when a day 
 
 " I leave her, for my needful cares, at leisure 
 
 To muse upon and feel her lonely state ; 
 At my returning, though restrain'd her pleasure, 
 
 There needs no Spirit's eye to see she does not hate. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 " Oft have I look'd in mortal hearts, to know 
 How love, by slow advances, knows to twine 
 
 Each fibre with his wreaths ; then overthrow 
 At once each stern resolve. The maiden's mine ! 
 
 " Yet have I never press'd her ermine hand, 
 
 Nor touch'd the living coral of her lip ; 
 Though listening to its tones, so sweet, so bland, 
 
 I've thought, oh, impious thought! who form'd 
 might sip !
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 119 
 
 XXXII. 
 " Most impious thought! Soul, I would rein thee in 
 
 E'en as the quick-eyed Parthian quells his steeds ; 
 But thou wilt start, and rise, and plunge in sin, 
 
 Till gratitude weeps out, and wounded reason bleeds ! 
 
 XXXIII. 
 Soul, what a mystery thou art I not one 
 
 Admires, or loves, or worships virtue more 
 Than I ; but passion hurls me on, till torn 
 
 By keen remorse, I cool, to curse me and deplore. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 " But to my theme. Now, in the stilly night, 
 
 I hover o'er her fragrant couch, and sprinkle 
 Sweet dews about her, as she slumbers light, 
 
 Dews sought, with toil, beneath the pale star's twinkle, 
 
 " From plants of secret virtue. All for lust 
 Too high and pure my bliss j her gentle breath 
 
 I hear, inhale, then weep ; (for oh ! she must : 
 That form is mortal, and must sleep in death.) 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 " And oft, when nature pants, and the thick air, 
 Charged with foul particles, weighs sluggish o'er, 
 
 I breathe them all ; that deep disgust I bear 
 To leave a fluid pure and sane for her.
 
 120 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 " How dear is this employ ! how innocent ! 
 
 My soul's wild elements forbear their strife ; 
 While, on these harmless cares, pleased and intent, 
 
 I hope to save her beauty and her life, 
 
 " For many a rapturous year. But mortal ne'er 
 Shall hold her to his heart ! to me confined, 
 
 Her soul must glow ; nor ever shall she bear 
 That mortal fruit for which her form's designed. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 " No grosser blood, commingling with her own, 
 Shall ever make her mother. Oh ! that mild 
 
 Sad glance I love that lip that melting tone 
 Shall ne'er be given to any mortal's child. 
 
 " But only for her Spirit shall she live ; 
 
 Unsoil'd by earth, fresh, chaste, and innocent! 
 And all a Spirit dares or can I'll give ; 
 
 And sure I thus can make her far more blest, 
 
 " Framed as she is, than mortal love could do ; 
 
 For more than mortal's to this creature given, 
 She's Spirit more than half; her beauty's hue 
 
 Is of the sky, and speaks my native heaven.
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 121 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 " But ! the night wanes ! while all is bright above," 
 He said, and round Phaerion, nearer drawn, 
 
 One beauteous arm he flung, "first to my love; 
 We'll see her safe ; then, to our task till dawn." 
 
 XL. 
 'Tis often thus with Spirits: when retired 
 
 Afar from haunts of men ; so they delight 
 To move in their own beauteous forms attired ; 
 
 Though like thin shades or air they mock dull mortals' 
 sight. (6) 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Well pleased Phraerion answered that embrace ; 
 All balmy he with thousand breathing sweets 
 From thousand dewy flowers. " But to what place," 
 He said, " will Zophiel go ? who danger greets 
 
 " As if 'twere peace. The Palace of the Gnome, (7) 
 Tahathyam, for our purpose most were meet ; 
 
 But then the wave, so cold and fierce, the gloom, 
 The whirlpools, rocks, that guard that deep retreat ! 
 
 " Yet, there are fountains which no sunny ray 
 E'er danced upon, and drops come there at last 
 
 Which for whole ages, filtering all the way, 
 
 Through all the veins of earth in winding maze have 
 past.
 
 122 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 These take from mortal beauty every stain, 
 And smooth the unseemly lines of age and pain, 
 
 With every wondrous efficacy rife ; 
 Nay once a spirit whispered of a draught, 
 Of which a drop, by any mortal quaft, 
 
 Would save for terms of years his feeble flickering life. 
 
 XLIII. 
 " A Spirit told thee it would save from death 
 
 The being who should taste that drop ? Is't so ? 
 Oh ! dear Phraerion, for another breath 
 
 We have not time ! come, follow me ! we'll go 
 
 " And take one look, then guide me to the track 
 Of the Gnome's palace ; there is not a blast 
 
 To stir the sea-fly ! we will go and back 
 Ere morn nay come ! the night is wasting fast. 
 
 XLIV. 
 " My friend, O Zophiel ! only once I went, 
 
 Then, though bold Antreon bore me, such the pain, 
 I came back to the air, so rack'd and spent, 
 
 That for a whole sweet moon I had no joy again. 
 
 " What sayst thou, back at morn ? the night, a day 
 And half the night that follows it, alas ! 
 
 Were time too little for that fearful way ; 
 
 And then such depths, such caverns we must pass '
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 123 
 
 XLVI. 
 " Nothing ! beloved Pfyraerion, I know how 
 
 To brave such risks ; and first, the path will break, 
 As oft I've done in water depths ; and thou 
 
 Need'st only follow through the way I make." 
 
 XLVII. 
 The soft Flower-Spirit shuddered ; look'd on high, 
 
 And from his bolder brother would have fled ; 
 But then the anger kindling in that eye 
 
 He could not bear. So to fair Egla's bed 
 Followed and looked ; then shuddering all with dread, 
 
 To wonderous realms unknown to men he led ; 
 
 Continuing long in sunset course his flight, 
 
 Until for flowery Sicily he bent ; 
 Then, where Italia smiled upon the night, 
 
 Between their nearest shores chose mid way his descent.* 
 
 XLVIII. 
 The sea was calm, and the reflected moon 
 
 Still trembled on its surface ; not a breath 
 Curl'd the broad mirror. Night had past her noon ; 
 
 How soft the air! how cold the depths beneath ! 
 
 * Not far from the scene of Vulcan's labours ; yet the regions 
 sought by these spirits must have been very much deeper.
 
 124 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 The spirits hover o'er that surface smooth, 
 
 ZophieTs white arm around Phraerion's twined 
 
 In fond caress, his tender fears to sooth, 
 While cither's nearer wing the other's crossed behind. 
 
 L. 
 Well pleased, Phraerion half forgot his dread ; 
 
 And first, with foot as white as lotus leaf, 
 The sleepy surface of the waves essayed ; 
 
 But then his smile of love gave place to drops of grief. 
 
 . LI. 
 How could he for that fluid dense and chill 
 
 Change the sweet floods of air they floated on ? 
 E'en at a touch his shrinking fibres thrill; 
 
 But ardent Zophiel, panting, hurries on ; 
 
 And (catching his mild brother's tears, with lip 
 That whisper'd courage 'twixt each glowing kiss) 
 
 Persuades to plunge : limbs, wings, and locks they dip ; 
 Whate'er the other's pains, the lover felt but bliss. 
 
 LII. 
 Rapid he draws Phraerion on ; his toil 
 
 Even lighter than he hoped : some power benign 
 Seems to restrain the surges, while they boil 
 
 Mid crags and caverns, as of his design
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 125 
 
 Respectful. That black, bitter element, 
 
 As if obedient to his wish, gave way; 
 So, comforting Phraerion, on he went 
 
 And a high craggy arch they reach, at dawn of day 
 
 Upon the upper world ; and forced them through 
 That arch the thick cold floods with such a roar 
 
 That the bold Sprite receded ; and would view 
 The cave before he ventured to explore. 
 
 Lin. 
 Then fearful lest his frighted guide might part 
 
 And not be miss'd, amid such strife and din, 
 He strain'd him closer to his burning heart, 
 
 And trusting to his strength rush'd fiercely in. 
 
 On, on, for many a weary mile they fare ; 
 
 Till thinner grew the floods, long dark and dense, 
 From nearness to earth's core ; and now a glare 
 
 Of grateful light, relieved their piercing sense; 
 
 As when, above, the sun his genial streams 
 
 Of warmth and light darts mingling with the waves 
 
 Whole fathoms down ; while amorous of his beams 
 Each scaly monstrous thing leaps from its slimy caves.
 
 126 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 LV. 
 And now Phraerion, with a tender cry, 
 
 Far sweeter than the land-birds note, afar 
 Heard through the azure arches of the sky, 
 
 By the long baffled storm-worn mariner : 
 
 " Hold, Zophiel ! rest thee now : our task is done, 
 Tahathyam's realms alone can give this light ! 
 
 Oh ! though 'tis not the life-awakening sun, 
 How sweet to see it break upon such fearful night !' 
 
 Clear grew the wave, and thin ; a substance white 
 The wide expanding cavern floors and flanks ; 
 
 Could one have look'd from high, how fair the sight ! 
 Like these the dolphin on Bahaman banks 
 
 Cleaves the warm fluid, in his rainbow tints, 
 While even his shadow on the sands below 
 
 Is seen ; as thro* the wave he glides and glints 
 Where lies the polished shell and branching corals grow. 
 
 LVII. 
 No massive gate impedes ; the wave in vain 
 
 Might strive against the air to break or fall ; 
 And, at the portal of that strange domain, 
 
 A clear bright curtain seem'd, or crystal wall.
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 127 
 
 LVIII. 
 The Spirits pass its bounds, but would not far 
 
 Tread the slant pavement, like unbidden guest ; 
 The while, on either side, a bower of spar 
 
 Gave invitation for a moment's rest. 
 
 LIX. 
 And, deep in either bower, a little throne 
 
 Look'd so fantastic, it were hard to know 
 If busy Nature fashion'd it alone, 
 
 Or found some curious artist here below. 
 
 Soon spoke Phraerion : " Come, Tahathyam, come, 
 Thou knows't me well ! I saw thee once to love ; 
 
 And bring a guest to view thy sparkling dome 
 Who comes full fraught with tidings from above." 
 
 Those gentle tones, angelically clear, 
 
 Past from his lips, in mazy depths retreating, 
 
 (As if that bower had been the cavern's ear), 
 Full many a stadia far ; and kept repeating, 
 
 As through the perforated rock they pass, 
 Echo to echo guiding them j their tone 
 
 (As just from the sweet spirit's lip) at last 
 
 Tahathyam heard t where, on a glittering throne
 
 128 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 He solitary sat. 'Twas many a year 
 
 Ere such delightful, grateful sound had blest 
 
 His pleasured sense; and with a starting tear, 
 Half joy, half grief, he rose to greet his guest. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 First sending through the rock an answering strain 
 To give both Spirits welcome, where they wait, 
 
 And bid them haste ; for he might strive in vain 
 Half mortal as he was, to reach that gate 
 
 For many a day. But in the bower they hear 
 His bidding ; and, from cumbrous matter free, 
 
 Arose; and to his princely home came near 
 With such spiritual strange velocity, 
 
 They met him, just as by his palace door 
 
 The Gnome appeared, with all his band, elate 
 
 In the display of his resplendent store, 
 To such as knew his father's high estate. 
 
 LXIII. 
 His sire, a Seraph, framed to dwell above, 
 
 Had lightly left his pure ar ' blissful home (8) 
 To taste the blandishments of mortal love ; 
 
 And from that lowly union sprang the Gnome,
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES, 129 
 
 Tahathyam, first of his compeers, and best, 
 He look'd like heaven, fair semi-earthly thing ! 
 
 The rest were born of .many a maid carest 
 After his birth, and chose him for their king. 
 
 He sat upon a car, (and the large pearl 
 Once cradled in it glimmered, now, without) 
 
 Bound midway on two serpents' backs, that curl 
 In silent swiftness as he glides about.* 
 
 A shell, 'twas first in liquid amber wet ; 
 
 Then, ere the fragrant cement harden'd round, 
 All o'er with large and precious stones 'twas set 
 
 By skilful Tsavaven/f- or made or found. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 The reins seem'd pliant crystal (but their strength 
 Had match'd his eprthly mother's silken band;);): 
 
 And, fleck'd with rubies, flow'd in ample length, 
 Like sparkles o'er Tahathyam's beauteous hand. 
 
 This manner of bearing the car is not inconsistent with the 
 known docility and strength of serpents in general. 
 
 + Tsavaven signifies tint-gem. 
 
 J It has been said that an art once existed of composing a sub- 
 stance which, together with a perfect pliancy, had the colour and 
 transparency of glass or crystal.
 
 130 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 LXVII. 
 The reptiles, in their fearful beauty, drew (9) 
 
 As if from love, like steeds of Araby ; 
 Like blood of lady's lip their scarlet hue ; 
 
 Their scales so bright and sleek, 'twas pleasure but to see. 
 
 With open mouths, as proud to show the bit, 
 
 They raise their heads, and arch their necks (with eye 
 
 As bright as if with meteor fire 'twere lit) ; 
 
 And dart their barbed tongues, 'twixt fangs of ivory. 
 
 These, when the quick-advancing Sprites they saw 
 Furl their swift wings, and tread with angel grace 
 
 The smooth fair pavement, check'd their speed in awe, 
 And glided far aside as if to give them space. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 Tahathyam, lighted with a pleasing pride, 
 And in like guise, to meet the strangers bent 
 
 His courteous steps ; the while on either side 
 Fierce Abhalat and Pshaamayim went. 
 
 LXXI. 
 Bright Ramaour followed on, in order meet; (10) 
 
 Then Nahalcoul and Zotzaraven, best 
 Beloved, save Rouamasak of perfume sweet; 
 
 Then Talhazak and Marmorak ; the rest
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 
 
 A crowd of various use and properties, 
 
 Arranged to meet their monarch's wishes, vie 
 
 In seemly show to please the stranger's eyes, 
 And show what could be wrought without or soil or sky. 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 And Zophiel, though a spirit, ne'er had seen 
 
 The like before ; and, for he had to ask 
 A boon, almost as dear as heaven, his mien 
 
 Was softness all ; but 'twas a painful task 
 
 To his impatience thus the time to wait 
 Due to such welcome: all his soul possest 
 
 With thoughts of her he'd left in lonely state, 
 Unguarded, how he burnt to proffer his request ! 
 
 LXXIII. 
 The fond Phraerion look'd on him, and knew 
 
 How much it pain'd him here below to stay j 
 So towards the princely Gnome he gently drew 
 
 To tell what purpose brought them down from day; 
 
 And said, " O ! king, this humble offering take; 
 
 How hard the task to bring I need not tell ; 
 Receive the poor, poor gift, for friendship's sake !" 
 
 Tahathyam took a yellow asphodel,
 
 132 CANTO THE THIRD, 
 
 A deep-blue lotus, and a full moss-rose, 
 
 And then spoke out, " My Talhazak, come hither, 
 
 Look at these flowers, cropt where the sun-beam glows ; ] 
 Crust them with diamond, never let them wither 1 " * 
 
 LXXIV. 
 Then, soon, Phraerion : " Monarch, if 'tis truth, 
 
 Thou hast (and that 'tis false sweet powers forfend !) 
 A draught whose power perpetuates life and youth, 
 
 Wilt thou bestow one drop upon my friend ? " 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 Then Zophiel could no more withhold, but knelt 
 And said, " Oh ! sovereign ! happier far than I J 
 
 Born as thou wert, and in earth's entrails pent, 
 Though once I shared thy father's bliss on high. 
 
 LXXVI. 
 One only draught ! and if its power I prove, 
 
 By thy sweet mother, to an Angel dear, 
 Whate'er thou wilt, of all the world above, 
 
 Down to these nether realms I'll bring thee every year. 
 
 * Diamond, it is said, is but crystal of carbon. Tahathyam, 
 however, might not have meant to have his flowers literally 
 covered or encrusted with diamond, but might only have used this 
 expression to impress on Talhazak a sense of the value he held 
 them in.
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 133 
 
 LXXVII. 
 Thy tributary slave, I'll scorn the pain, 
 
 Though storms and rocks my feeling substance tear! 
 Tahathyam, let me not implore in vain, 
 
 Give me the draught, and save me from despair ! 
 
 Tahathyam paused ; as if the bold request 
 He liked not to refuse, nor wish'd to grant; 
 
 Then (after much revolving in his breast), 
 " What of this cup can an Immortal want ? 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 " My Angel sire, for many a year, endured 
 The vilest toils, deep hidden in the ground, 
 
 To mix this drink ; nor was't at last procured 
 
 Till all he fear'd had happ'd : Death's sleep profound 
 
 " Seized my fair mother. I had shared her doom : 
 Mortal, like her he held than heaven more dear; 
 
 But, by his chymic arts, he robb'd the tomb 
 And fixed my solitary being here; 
 
 " As if to hide from the Life-giver's eye, 
 Of his presumptuous task, untried before 
 
 The prized success, bidding the secret lie , 
 For ever here ; I never saw him more,
 
 134 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 " When this was done. Yet what avails to live, 
 From age to age, thus hidden 'neath the wave ? 
 
 Nor life nor being have I power to give, -^ ,u ; 
 And here, alas ! are no more lives to save 1 
 
 " For my loved father's sight in vain I pine ! 
 
 Where is the bright Cephroniel ? Spirit tell (11) 
 But how he fares, and* what thou ask'st is thine!" 
 
 Fair hope from ZophieTs look that moment fell. 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 The anxious Gnome observed ; and soon bethought 
 
 How far his exile limited his will ; 
 And half divining why he so besought 
 
 Gift, worthless, save to man, continued still 
 
 His speech : " Thou askest much : should I impar 
 Spirit, to thee, what my great father fain 
 
 Would hide from heaven ? and what with all his ai , 
 Even the second power desires in vain ?* 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 " All long but cannot touch : a sword of flame 
 Guards the life-fruit once seen. Yet, Spirit, know 
 
 There is a service, do what I shall name, 
 And let the danger threaten, I'll bestow. 
 " Sathan, or evil.
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 135 
 
 ** But first partake our humble banquet, spread 
 Within these rude walls, and repose awhile ;" 
 
 He said, and to the sparry portal led 
 
 And usher'd his fair guests with hospitable smile. 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 High tower'd the palace and its massive pile, 
 
 Made dubious if of nature or of art, 
 So wild and so uncouth ; yet, all the while, 
 
 Shaped to strange grace in every varying part. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 And groves adorn'd it, green in hue, and bright 
 
 As icicles about a laurel-tree ; 
 And danced about their twigs a wonderous light ; 
 
 Whence came that light so far beneath the sea ? 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 Zophiel looked up to know, and to his view 
 
 The vault scarce seem'd less vast than that of day; 
 
 No rocky roof was seen ; a tender blue 
 
 Appear'd, as of the sky, and clouds about it play:* 
 
 * It was perfectly in the power of optics and chemistry, of 
 which sciences these beings were in possession, to produce the 
 effect described beneath the roof of so vast a cavern.
 
 136 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 And, in the midst, an orb look'd as 'twere meant 
 
 To shame the sun, it mimick'd him so well. 
 But ah ! no quickening, grateful warmth it sent; 
 
 Cold as the rock beneath, the paly radiance fell. 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 Within, from thousand lamps the lustre strays, 
 Reflected back from gems about the wall ; 
 
 And from twelve dolphin shapes a fountain plays, 
 Just in the centre of the spacious hall : 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 But whether in the sunbeam form'd to sport, 
 These shapes once lived in suppleness and pride, 
 
 And then, to decorate this wonderous court, 
 Were stolen from the waves and petrified, 
 
 Or, moulded by some imitative Gnome, 
 
 And scaled all o'er with gems, they were but stone, 
 Casting their showers and rainbows 'neath the dome, 
 
 To man or angel's eye might not be known. 
 
 No snowy fleece in these sad realms was found, 
 Nor silken ball, by maiden loved so well ; 
 
 But ranged in lightest garniture around, 
 In seemly folds, a shining tapestry fell.
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 137 
 
 XCI. 
 
 And fibres of asbestos, bleached in fire, ' 
 
 And all with pearls and sparkling gems o'er-fleck'd, 
 
 Of that strange court composed the rich attire, 
 
 And such the cold, fair form of sad Tahathyam deck'd. 
 
 Of marble white the table they surround, 
 And reddest coral deck'd each curious couch, 
 
 Which softly yielding to their forms was found, 
 And of a surface smooth and wooing to the touch. 
 
 XCIII. 
 Of sunny gold and silver, like the moon, 
 
 Here was no lack ; but if the veins of earth, 
 Torn open by man's weaker race, so soon 
 
 Supplied the alluring hoard, or here had birth 
 
 That baffling, maddening, fascinating art, (12) 
 Half told by Sprite most mischievous, that he 
 
 Might laugh to see men toil, then not impart, 
 The guests left unenquired : 'tis still a mystery. 
 
 XCIV. 
 
 Here were no flowers, but a sweet odour breathed, 
 Of amber pure ; a glistening coronal, 
 
 Of various-coloured gems, each brow enwreathed, 
 In form of garland, for the festival.
 
 138 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 XCV. 
 
 All that the shell contains most delicate, 
 Of vivid colours, ranged and drest with care, 
 
 Was spread for food, and still was in the state 
 Of its first freshness : if such creatures, rare 1 
 
 Among cold rocks, so far from upper air, 
 By force of art, might live and propagate, 
 
 Or were in hoards preserved, the muse cannot declare. 
 
 XCVI. 
 But here, so low from the life-wakening sun, 
 
 However humble, life was sought in vain ; 
 But when by chance, or gift, or peril won, 
 
 'Twas prized and guarded well in this domain. 
 
 Four dusky Spirits, by a secret art 
 
 Taught by a father, thoughtful of his wants, 
 
 Tahathyam kept, for menial toil apart, 
 But only deep in sea were their permitted haunts. 
 
 XCVIII. 
 
 The banquet-cups, of many a hue and shape, 
 Boss'd o'er with gems, were beautiful to view; 
 
 But, for the madness of the vaunted grape, 
 Their only draught was a pure limpid dew,
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 139 
 
 To Spirits sweet ; but these half-mortal lips 
 
 Long'd for the streams that once on earth they quaffed ; 
 
 And, half in shame, Tahathyam coldly sips 
 And craves excuses for the temperate draught. 
 
 XCIX. 
 "Man tastes" he said, "the grape's sweet blood that 
 
 streams 
 
 To steep his heart when pain'd ; when sorrowing he 
 In wild delirium drowns the sense, and dreams 
 Of bliss arise, to cheat his misery." 
 
 c. 
 
 Nor with their dews were any mingling sweets 
 Save those, to mortal lip, of poison fell ; 
 
 No murmuilng bee, was heard in these retreats, 
 The mineral clod alone supplied their hydromel. 
 
 Cl. 
 
 The Spirits while they sat, in social guise, 
 Pledging each goblet with an answering kiss, 
 
 Mark'd many a Gnome conceal his bursting sighs ; 
 And thought death happier than a life like this. 
 
 But they had music; at one ample side 
 Of the vast area of that sparkling hall, 
 
 Fringed round with gems, that all the rest outvied; 
 In form of canopy, was seen to fall (13)
 
 J40 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 The stony tapestry, over what, at first, 
 
 An altar to some deity appear'd ; 
 But it had cost full many a year to adjust 
 
 The limpid crystal tubes that 'neath uprear'd 
 
 Their different gleaming lengths ; and so complete 
 Their wondrous rangement, that a tuneful Gnome 
 
 Drew from them sounds more varied, clear, and sweet, 
 Than ever yet had rung in any earthly dome. 
 
 cm. 
 Loud, shrilly, liquid, soft ; at that quick touch 
 
 Such modulation woo'd his angel ears 
 That Zophiel wonder'd, started from his couch 
 
 And thought upon the music of the spheres. 
 
 Tahathyam mark'd ; and casting down the board 
 A wistful glance to one who shared his cheer, 
 
 " My Ragas/cheon,"* said he ; at his word 
 
 A Gnome arose, and knew what strains he fain would 
 hear. 
 
 * This name is compounded of a Hebraic and a Greek word, 
 and signifies to move or affect the soul.
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 141 
 
 More like the dawn of youth in form and face, 
 And than his many pheres more lightly drest, 
 
 Yet unsurpass'd in beauty and in grace, 
 Silken-haired Ragasycheon soon express'd 
 
 The feelings rising at his master's heart ; 
 
 Choosing such tones as when the breezes sigh 
 Through some lone portico ; or far apart,' 
 
 From ruder sounds of mirth in the deep forest die. 
 
 cvi. 
 Preluding low, in notes that faint and tremble, 
 
 Swelling, awakening, dying, plaining deep, 
 While such sensations in the soul assemble, 
 
 As make it pleasure to the eyes to weep. 
 
 CVI I. 
 Is there a heart that ever loved in vain, 
 
 Though years have thrown their veil o'er all most dear, 
 That lives not each sensation o'er again 
 
 In sympathy with sounds like those that mingle here ? 
 
 Still the fair Gnome's light hand the chime prolongs ; 
 
 And while his utmost art the strain employs, 
 Cephroniel's softened son in gushing songs, 
 
 Pour'd forth his sad, deep sense of long departed joys,
 
 142 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 CIX. 
 SONG. 
 
 Oh, my Phronema ! how thy yellow hair 
 Was fragrant, when, by looks alone carest, 
 
 I felt it, wafted by the pitying air, 
 
 Float o'er my lips and touch my fervid breast ! 
 
 How my least word lent colour to thy cheek ! 
 
 And how thy gentle form would heave and swell, 
 A s if the love thy heart contained would break 
 
 That warm pure shrine where nature bade it dwell. 
 
 We parted ; years are past, and thou art dead : 
 Never, Phronema, can I see thee more ! 
 
 One little ringlet of thy graceful head 
 Lies next my heart ; 'tis'all I may adore. 
 
 Torn from thy sight, to save a life of gloom, 
 Hopes unaccomplish'd, warmest wishes crost 
 
 How can I longer bear my weary doom ? 
 Alas ! what have I gain'd for all I lost ? 
 
 ex. 
 
 The music ceased ; and from Tahathyam pass'd 
 The mournful extacy that lent it zest ; 
 
 But tears adown his paly cheek fell fast, 
 And sprinkled the asbestos o'er his breast.
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 143 
 
 CXI. 
 
 Then thus : " If but a being half so dear 
 
 Could to these realms be brought, the slow distress 
 
 Of my long solitude were less severe, 
 And I might learn to bear my weariness. 
 
 " There's a nepenthic draught, which the warm breath 
 Of mortals, when they quaff, keeps in suspense ; 
 
 Giving the pale similitude of death, 
 
 While thus chain'd. up the quick perceptive sense. 
 
 " Haply 'twere possible. But to the shrine, 
 Where like a god I guard Cephroniel's gift!" 
 
 Soon through the rock they wind ; the draught divine 
 Was hidden by a veil the king alone might lift. 
 
 CXIII. 
 Cephroniel's son, with half-averted face 
 
 And faultering hand, that curtain drew, and show'd, 
 Of solid diamond formed, a lucid vase ; 
 
 And warm within the pure elixir glow'd; 
 
 cxiv. 
 Bright red, like flame and blood, (could they so meet) 
 
 Ascending, sparkling, dancing, whirling, ever 
 In quick perpetual movement; and of heat 
 
 So high, the rock was warm beneath their feet, 
 (Yet heat in its intenseuess hurtful never),
 
 144 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 Even to the entrance of the long arcade 
 
 Which led to that deep shrine, in the rock's breast 
 
 As far as if the half-angel were afraid 
 To know the secret he himself possessed. 
 
 Tahathyam filled a slip of spar with dread,' 
 As if stood by and frown'd some power divine j 
 
 Then trembling, as he turned to Zophiel said, 
 " But for one service shalt thou call it thine. 
 
 " Bring me a wife ; as I have named the way ; 
 (I will not risk destruction save for love!) 
 
 Fauvhaired and beauteous like my mother ; say- 
 Plight ine this pact ; so shalt thou bear above, 
 
 " For thine own purpose, what has here been kept 
 Since bloom'd the second age, to Angels dear. ; 
 
 Bursting from earth's dark wornb the fierce wave swept 
 Off every form that lived and loved, while here, 
 
 Deep hidden here, I still lived on and wept." 
 
 cxvu. 
 
 Then, Zophiel, pitying his emotion : " So 
 I promise; nay, unhappy prince, I swear 
 
 By what I dare not utter ; I will go 
 And search ; and one of all the loveliest bear
 
 PALACE OF GNOMES. 145 
 
 " Away, the while she sleeps, to be thy wife : 
 Give her nepenthic drink, and through the wave 
 
 Brave hell's worst pains to guard her gentle life. 
 Monarch ! 'tis said ; now, give me what I crave ! 
 
 CXVIII. 
 
 " Tahathyam Evanath,* son of a sire 
 
 Who knew how love burns in a breast divine, 
 
 If this thy gift sustain one vital fire, 
 
 Sigh not for things of earth, for all earth's best are thine. 
 
 He took the spar : the high-wrought hopes of both 
 
 Forbad delay. So to the palace back 
 The}- came ; Tahathyam faintly pressed ; nor loth 
 
 Saw his fair guests depart to wend their watery track. 
 
 * From eva, life ; and nathan, to give. 
 
 Cuba. Pueblo Nuevo, July 1828.
 
 NOTES 
 
 TO 
 
 CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 HAVING liberty, while at Paris, to take any books I might wish 
 from the Bibliotheque du Roi, and M. Van Prae't being very 
 obliging in looking for them, it was in my power to make much 
 more copious notes than will appear to this Canto, which, from 
 its subject, admits of a great variety. Many obstacles and en- 
 gagements occurred to prevent ; which I regret only, because many 
 passages of the old Christian writers and their Pagan contem- 
 poraries on the subject of angels and other spirits, are extremely 
 curious and entertaining. Sufficient poetical authoiity is, however, 
 given for the incidents of the story, and the text, perhaps, is suf- 
 ficiently explained. Copious notes extracted from the works of 
 others, indicate nothing but toil and patience in the writer. 
 
 (1) " The heavenly angel watched his subject star." 
 This line is in accordance with the belief that the stars are 
 guarded by celestial intelligences, to the prevalence of which 
 many passages in the sacred writings bear testimony, and from 
 which may be inferred a possibility that each inhabited and sepa- 
 rate planet may, in reality, be under the care of some delegate 
 spirit Saturninus of Antioch taught that " the -world and its first 
 inhabitants were created by seven angels, which presided over the 
 seven planets ;" and that " the work was carried t>n, without the
 
 148 NOTES TO CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 knowledge of the benevolent deity, and in opposition to the material 
 principle. The former, however, beheld it with approbation, and 
 honoured it with several marks of his beneficence." 
 
 Many singular systems of thfe kind are classed under the name 
 of heresies by Mosheim. 
 
 (2) " Myrrk her tears of fragrance weeps." 
 
 I had hoped to see the plant myrrh in the Jardin des Plantes at 
 Paris, but was disappointed. Its appearance, however, can be- 
 easily conceived by the following : " Mr Bruce, while in Abys 
 Miiiu, made some remarks on the myrrh tree, which are to be 
 found in the < Journal de Physique,' &c., tome xiii. 1778. He 
 (Bruce) says, that the naked troglodites brought him specimens 
 of myrrh, of which both the leaves and bark bore a great resem- 
 blance to the acacia fera." Among the leaves he observed some 
 straight prickles about two inches in length. He likewise mentions 
 seeing a saffa tree, which was a native of the myrrh country, 
 covered with beautiful crimson flowers. Drops of perfume distil 
 from this tree which probably harden into that substance called 
 myrrh, which is common in medicine. In one of the letters of 
 M. Demoustrer's delightful work on Mythology, the young Adonis 
 is represented as pointing to a myrrh tree,, and exclaiming, " Helas f 
 ces larmes precieuses sont les pleurs de ma mere !* who, according 
 to the fable, was metamorphosed by the gods in compassion to her 
 grief. 
 
 (3) " Proud prickly cerea, novi thy blossom 'scapes 
 
 Its celL" 
 
 Few persons have seen the blossom of this astonishing flower, 
 because it only opens at or after midnight, and is so evanescent, 
 that, unless constantly watched, it is difficult to know the exact 
 time of its perfection. It is large and of a yellowish white, and, 
 in its cup, or, rather, in the midst of its fragrant petals, there is an 
 appearance of lambent light or flame, resembling burning nitre*
 
 TSX5TES TO CANTO THE THIRD. 149 
 
 (4) " To share its joys, assist its vast design 
 
 With high intelligence ; oh, dangerous gift" 
 It is said that the angels who rebelled were among the most wise 
 and powerful of celestial creatures. None of them were more re- 
 splendent in beaut}' than Lucifer, who drew with him, when lie 
 'fell, a third part of the stars of heaven. 
 
 The sup|x>sitk>n that many beings, subordinate to the Supreme 
 will, were employed in that disposition of matter called " The 
 Creation," is not only according to every system of religion, but 
 agreeable to all-analogy. " God said let there be-tight, and light was." 
 The King of Persia commanded a temple to 'be 'built, and it rose. 
 There is little more reason to believe that the first was accomplished 
 without multiplied means and agency than the last. Everything 
 in natural history, and in natural philosophy favours the idea of an 
 infinity of beings to supply the gradations between man and the 
 Sovereign of creation. Indeed, after thinking a little on the sub- 
 ject, it seems almost Absurd to believe the contrary. This belief, 
 besides, is far more pleasing in itself tlian that of regarding the 
 Supreme giver of life only as an all-competent artizan. 
 
 M. 1'Abbe Poule, discoursing upon a future state of existence, 
 gives the following passage : 
 
 " II ne seront plus cache, pour nous, ces etres inuombrable, qui 
 echappent a nos connoisances par leur elaignement ou par leur 
 petitesse ; les diff^rentes parties qui compose le vaste ensemble de 
 I'univers ; leur structures, leur rapjwrt, leur harmonic ; ils ne seront 
 plus des enigmes, pour nous, ces jeux surprenans, ces secrets pro- 
 tbnds de la nature, ces ressorts admirable que la providence emplcie 
 pour la conservation et la propagation de tous les etres." 
 
 I translate from the French of M. de Chateaubriand, the follow- 
 ing delightful passage : " The sovereign happiness of the -elect is 
 a consciousness that their joys are never to be terminated. They 
 are incessantly in the same delicious state of mind, as a mortal who 
 has just performed a good or heroic action ; a man of genius who 
 has just given birth to a sublime conception ; of a person in the
 
 150 NOTES TO CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 first transports of an unforbidden love, or the charms of a friendship 
 made certain by a long series of adversity. The nobler passions 
 are not extinguished by death, in the hearts of the just; and when- 
 ever they are found, even on earth, respire something of the 
 grandeur and eternity of the supreme intelligence. 
 
 (5) " That vague wondrous lore 
 
 " But seldom told to mortals ; arts on gems 
 
 Inscribed that still exist ; but hidden so, 
 
 From fear of those ieho wrote, that diadems 
 
 Have passed from brows that vainly ached to know. 
 
 It is said to have been believed by the Egyptians that many 
 wonderful secrets were engraved by one of the Mercuries, on tablets 
 of emerald, which still remain hidden in some part of their 
 country. 
 
 Being assisted by a friend in looking over the first part of 
 Brucker's " Historia Critica Philosophee " for something concern- 
 ing these tablets of emerald, we were soon disappointed by the 
 following passage : 
 
 "Non detenibimus itaque lectorem fabularum de Mercurio 
 Graecanim atque Latinarum recitatione, quas qui legere vult, apud 
 Lilium Gyraldum (Lugd. Bat. 1698. 4.) vel Natalem Comitem 
 (Mvthol. L. V. c. 5. p. m. 439) aliosque mythologias veteris in- 
 terpretes abunde inveniet unde sitem extinguat." To those 
 authors, therefore, the reader is referred. 
 
 Some of the fathers (Tertullian in particular) supposed that all 
 impious and daring sciences, such as Magic and Alchemy, came to 
 the heathen nations through the medium of fallen angels, who, 
 during the violence of their love for particular women, would some- 
 times reveal to them doctrines and truths which could never other- 
 wise have besn conceived by their poets and philosophers. 
 
 Petrarch, in a letter to Robert, King of Naples, says " The 
 expectation which our faith presents was unknown to the heathen
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE THIRD. 151 
 
 philosophers ; but they felt that the soul was not to die." Pherecydes 
 was the first among them who openly maintained it. Pherecydes 
 most probably conceived his belief from old and vague traditions, 
 confirmed by his own feelings and experience. 
 
 " Epicurus," continues Petrarch, "was the only one who denied 
 it. From Pherecydes it passed to Pythagoras, from Pythagoras to 
 Socrates, from Socrates to Plato; and Cicero established this 
 doctrine in his discourses on friendship, old age, and other parts of 
 his works." 
 
 The lives of all these philosophers, that of Socrates in particular, 
 rather confirm than disprove the belief of the fathers respecting 
 communications from a higher order of beings. 
 
 (6) " Though, like thin shades or air, they mock dull mortals' sight." 
 The discoveries effected by chemistry and natural philosophy, 
 although they make apparent the fallacy of many superstitions, do 
 not in the least disprove the existence of spiritual creatures. After 
 hearing explained the nature of light and heat, and observing the 
 effects produced by many common experiments, it is not difficult to 
 conceive of beings, powerful, beautiful, and exquisitely organized ; 
 yet of a material so refined and subtle, as easily to elude the most 
 perfect animal perception. 
 
 (7) " The palace of the Gnome Tahathyam" 
 In respect to the birth of Tahathyam and his court, I have 
 followed the opinion of Tertullian and others. The beings, how- 
 ever, which are described in the text, can only be called Gnomes, 
 from their residence in the earth, and their knowledge of minera- 
 logy and gems. The 
 
 " Four dusky spirits, by a secret art, 
 Taught by a father thoughtful of his wants;" 
 
 which " Tahathyam kept" in his immediate service, might have 
 answered the description of the Comte de Gabalis.
 
 152 NOTES TO CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 " La terre est remplie presque jusqu' au centre de gnomes, gens 
 de petites statures, gardiens des tresors, des mineraux, et des 
 pierreries. Ceux ci sont ingenieux, amis de 1'homme et faciles a 
 commander. Les gnomides, leurs femmes, sont petites mais fort 
 agreables et leur habit et fort curieux." 
 
 " Les gnomes et les sylphes sont mortels, mais cessent d'etre 
 mortel du moment qu'ils epousent une de nos filles." 
 
 " De la naquit 1'erreur des premiers siecles, de Tertulien, du 
 martyr Justin, de Lactance, de Cyprien, de Clement d'Alexandrie, 
 d'Anathagore philosophe Chetien, et generalement de tons les 
 ecrivains de ce terns la. Us avoient apprisque ces demi-hommes 
 elementaires avoient recherche le commerce des filles ; et Us ont 
 imagine que la chute des anges n'ttoit venue que de Vamoiir dont 
 ils s'etoient laisses toucher pour les femmes. Quelques gnomes 
 desireux de devinir immortels avoient voulu gagner les bonnes 
 graces de nos filles, et leur avoient apportees des pierreries dont 
 ils sont gardiens naturels : et ces auteurs ont cru s'appuyans sur 
 le livre d'Enoch mal-entendu, que c'etoient des pieges qne les 
 anges amoureux avoient prepares pour mieux en assurer la con- 
 quite." Comte de Gabalis. 
 
 Though not immediately relative to the subject, I cannot forbear 
 inserting the following curious account of Sylphs : 
 
 " L'air est pleine d'une innombrable multitude de peuple de 
 figure humaine, un peu fiers en aparence ; mais dociles en effet : 
 officieux aux sages, et ennemies des sots et des ignorans. Leurs 
 femmes et leurs filles sont des beautes males telles qu'on depeint 
 les amazones." Le mime. 
 
 (8) Had lightly left his pure and blissful home, 
 
 To taste the blandishments of mortal love." 
 
 In the book of Enoch, two hundred or more of such angels as 
 
 Cephroniel are said to have descended on Mount Hermon, for the 
 
 purpose of visiting women of whose beauty they had become ena-
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE THIRD. 153 
 
 moured. Tertullian regards this book as of sacred authority, as 
 will be seen in the article, " De Habitu Muliebri ;" but some of the 
 other fathers are disinclined to believe it. 
 
 (9) " The reptiles, in their fearful beauty, drew 
 As if from love, like steeds of Araby ; 
 Like blood of lady's lip their scarlet hue." 
 
 The docility, and even affection of the serpent, is sufficiently 
 known and attested. Some chemical arts might have been used, 
 to give the scales of these their scarlet colour, surrounded as they 
 were by beings of such exquisite skill. Little serpents, however, 
 of a bright glossy scarlet, are not uncommon in America, and (if 
 the Count de Buifon, and his admirer and frequent translator, Dr 
 Goldsmith, are to be relied on) the snake, as long as it lives, con- 
 tinues to increase, having no fixed dimensions allotted to it, like 
 other animals. These most pleasing writers (if I am not much 
 mistaken) believe also that no particular bound is set to its vita- 
 lity ; and that it is capable of retaining life and youth so long as it 
 can be preserved from accidents. 
 
 The following account of the celebrated exploit of Prometheus, 
 which M. de Lentier puts into the mouth of an old Grecian or 
 Assyrian mariner, may not be unentertaining. 
 
 Prometheus having made a statue of clay, mixed with it levin of 
 gall, flesh of the aspic, and foam of the lion. But the figure was 
 still an insensible mass : Prometheus stole fire from the sun, and 
 man was animated. Scarcely had he drawn a breath ere he com- 
 plained to the gods of the fatal gift of life : pain was his first sen- 
 sation. Jupiter, to console him and mitigate his sufferings, gave 
 him a drug that had the virtue of restoring youth. The man was 
 delighted with the present, and placed it on an ass, for the purpose 
 of conveying it to his own abode. 
 
 The beast, tormented with thirst, stopped on his way at a foun- 
 tain guarded by a serpent. The wicked reptile would not suffer 
 him to drink, except on condition that the drug should, meanwhile, 
 be left in its care. The ass consented, and the serpent kept the
 
 154 NOTES TO CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 drug. From that time the serpent has had power to renew its 
 youth, while poor human beings grow old without remedj-. 
 
 (10) "Bright llamaour followed on, in order meet, 
 Then Nahalcoul aad Zotzaraven, best 
 Beloved, save Rouamasak, of perfume sweet ; 
 Then Talhazak and Marmorak." 
 
 These names are formed from Hebraic words, expressive of the 
 various qualities and employments of the beings who bear them. 
 
 Aishalat signifies fire-control ; Psaamayim, black-water ; Ra- 
 mab'ur, light-direct ; Nahalcoul, guide-sound ; Zotzaraven, shape- 
 spar; Rouamasak, mingle-air; Talhazak, dew-congeal; Marmorak, 
 (partly Greek) marble-stain. 
 
 Nothing can be more barbarous than Hebrew words, as they are 
 pronounced in English. They are, however, much softer on the lips 
 of Oriental speakers, or even those of the south of Europe. Some 
 of the dialects of the Aborigines of America, though they look so 
 repulsively, as we get them on paper, are soft as the murmur of 
 the forest, when spoken by forest orators. 
 
 (11) Where is the bright Cephroniel ? Spirit, tell 
 
 But how he fares" 
 
 Tahathyam has never seen his father since first established in 
 his submarine kingdom, and knows not whether he has been re- 
 ceived again into heaven, or remains still wandering about in a 
 state of punishment. The crimes of those angels made guilty only 
 by their intercourse with mortals, were supposed to have been 
 punished less severely, than those of the subordinates of the prince 
 of Ambition. 
 
 (12) " That baffling, maddening, fascinating art, 
 Half told by Sprite most mischievous, that he 
 Might laugh to see men toil, then not impart." 
 Some alchymists still exist, who have not laid aside the hope of 
 success in their labours.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE THIRD. 155 
 
 In Voltaire's Life of Charles XII," is related the following 
 circumstance : " A certain Livonian, who was an officer in the 
 Saxon army, and named Paikel, was made prisoner by the troops 
 of Charles, and condemned to be decapitated at Stockholm. Before 
 the execution of his sentence he found means to inform the senate 
 that he was in possession of the secret of making 1 gold, which, on 
 condition of pardon, he would communicate to the King 1 . The 
 experiment was made in prison, in presence of Colonel Hamilton 
 and the magistrates of the city ; the gold found in the crucible, 
 after the experiment, was carried to the mint at Stockholm, and a 
 judicial report made to the senate, which appeared so important, 
 that the Queen-mother ordered the execution to be suspended 
 until the King could be informed of so singular an event, and 
 transmit his orders to Stockholm. Charles answered, that he had 
 refused the pardon of the criminal to his relations, and that he 
 would never grant to interest what he had refused to friendship. 
 
 After viewing the fable of Midas, in connection with the belief of 
 the fathers, it is not difficult to imagine that the secret of alchymj 
 was actually imparted to that King by a fallen angel, who caused 
 himself to be adored as the god Bacchus ; and the disastrous con- 
 sequences that must necessarily ensue, provided such an art could 
 be obtained, are forcibly depicted in the sufferings of Midas. 
 
 Gold, like everything else not absolutely necessary to existence, 
 would cease to be valued as soon as it became plenty ; but nothing 
 would, perhaps, occasion more dreadful immediate misery, than a 
 possibility of procuring it easily. 
 
 The secret of alchymy, even if it could be discovered, would 
 bring with it nothing delightful ; but it is pleasant to imagine a 
 glimpse of possibility of discovering, sooner or later, the means of 
 preserving mortal life beyond its present imperfect term. 
 
 It has always seemed to me (whether any other person has 
 thought the same, I know not) that something in favour of this 
 possibility may be inferred from a passage in the Mosaic account 
 of the fall. The first pair are driven from the garden, lest, having
 
 156 NOTES TO CANTO THE THIRD. 
 
 tasted the tree of knowledge, they might pluck, also, of the tree of 
 life, and live for ever. Is this an allegory ; or to what does the 
 passage relate ? 
 
 " The animals (says Father Jerom Dandini, in his ' Voyage to 
 Mount Libanus,) eat a certain herb, which causes their teeth to 
 change to a golden colour." This herb Father Jerom thinks must 
 proceed from mines under Mount Ida. And Niebuhr mentions 
 that the Eastern alchymists fancy their success would be certain, 
 provided they could find out the herb which tinges the colour of 
 the flesh of the sheep that eat it. 
 
 (13) " Inform of canopy icos seen to fall 
 
 The stony tapestry" 
 
 There now exists, either in Virginia or some of the neighbouring 
 country (I have no reference and do not recollect this particular), 
 a singularly beautiful grotto, called, by those who live around it, 
 Wyer's Cave. It contains several apartments, in some of which 
 the concretions are said by those who have seen them to be spread 
 over the sides and roof in the form of curtains and festoons. One 
 of the chambers is extremely remarkable. It is commonly called 
 the " Lady's Drawing-room ;" and on one side of it a crystalline 
 projection is shown, which rings, at the touch, in such a manner 
 that the person whose description I saw, fancied a skilful hand 
 might draw music from it. Many curious and extensive caverns 
 are found in the island of Cuba. One near the bay of Matanzas is 
 often visited by strangers, but nobody has ventured to penetrate 
 far. I visited one twenty miles distant from this, and not far from 
 the estate San Patricio, which contained three apartments and a 
 reservoir of water ; being a great deal above the surface of the 
 earth, on the side of a pleasant hill, it would not, in that climate, 
 have been very uncomfortable as a residence. Some of the concre- 
 tions had attained the shape of large and perfect columns ; others 
 were in the form of two acute pyramids or obelisks, one depending 
 from the roof and the other rising from the floor. These were of
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE THIRD. 157 
 
 a whitish colour ; but though evening came on and we had two or 
 three tapers, I could see nothing transparent or sparkling. This 
 grotto is on either the Cafetal Teresa or the one adjoining it ; 
 the boundaries of both were covered with wood. There is another, 
 deeper in the earth, about six or seven English miles from Matan- 
 zas, on the estate of Octavius Mitchell, Esq. from which I was 
 shown specimens of spar of the size and shape of a common quill, 
 and clear like glass. Some beautiful concretions, or perhaps petri- 
 factions were also found there, which were said to bear some 
 resemblance to groups of sculpture. These I did not see, but one 
 was taken out and named the " Twins of Latona."
 
 CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 THE STORM.
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 The gloom that precedes a tempest near Carthage. Zophiel and 
 Phraerion returning from the palace of Gnomes. Zophiel loses the 
 piece of spar which contains his invaluable elixir, and narrowly 
 escapes being sucked down by a whirlpool. Zophiel and Phraerion 
 emerge from the sea, and rest a moment in the deserts nearest 
 Carthage ; they attempt to pursue their course toward Media. The 
 storm increases. Zophiel meets a spirit -who detains and reproaches 
 him. Phraerion seeks shelter. Zophiel and Phraerion return to 
 Media. 

 
 CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 THE STORM. 
 
 i. 
 OVER that coast whither wrong'd Dido fled 
 
 From brother's murderous hand, low vapours brood, 
 But all is hush'd ; and reigns a calm as dread 
 
 As that fell Roman's who, like wolf pursued,* 
 
 In aftertimes upon a fragment sate 
 
 Of ruined Carthage, his fierce eye at rest, 
 
 While hungry, cold, and spent, he mock'd at fate, 
 
 And fed on the revenge deep smouldering in his breast. (1) 
 
 But now, that city's turrets frown on high ; 
 
 And from her distant streets is heard the shriek 
 Of frantic mothers, utter'd as they fly 
 From where with children's blood their guilty altars 
 reek. (2) 
 
 * Caius Marius.
 
 162 CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 III. 
 But far, far off, upon the sea's expanse, 
 
 The very silence has a shriek of fear j (3) 
 And, 'cross the sight, thick shadows seem to glance ; 
 
 And sounds like laughter ring, yet leave the ear 
 
 In racking doubt if it has heard such peal, 
 
 Or if 'twas but affrighted fancy spoke : 
 Past that suspense, and, lesser pain to feel, 
 
 As giant rends his chains the bursting tempest woke. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Alas ! for the poor pilot at his prow, 
 
 Far from the haven ! Will his Neptune save ? 
 
 The muse no longer hears his frantic vow, 
 
 But follows her fair Sprites still deep beneath the wave. 
 
 V. 
 
 Soon through the cavern, the receding light 
 Refused its beam ; Zophiel, with toil severe, 
 
 But bliss in view, through the thrice murky night, 
 Sped swiftly on. A treasure now more dear 
 
 He had to guard than boldest hope had dared 
 
 To breathe for years ; but rougher grew the way ; 
 
 And soft Phraerion, shrinking back and scared 
 At ever}' whirling depth, wept for his flowers and 
 day.
 
 THE STORM. 163 
 
 Shivered, and pained, and shrieking, as the waves 
 Wildly impel them 'gainst the jutting rocks; 
 
 Not all the care and strength of Zophiel saves 
 His tender guide from half the wildering shocks 
 
 He bore. The calm, which favoured their descent, 
 And bade them look upon their task as o'er, 
 
 Was past ; and now the inmost earth seem'd rent 
 With such fierce storms as never raged before. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Of a long mortal life had the whole pain 
 
 Essenced in one consummate pang been borne, 
 
 Known, and survived ; it still would be in vain 
 
 To try to paint the pains felt by these Sprites forlorn. 
 
 The power that made, intending them for bliss, 
 
 And gave their thrilling organs but to bless, 
 Had they been form'd for such a world as this, 
 
 Had kindly dull'd their powers and made their tortures 
 less. 
 
 VIII. 
 The precious drop closed in its hollow spar, 
 
 Between his lips Zophiel in triumph bore. 
 Now, earth and sea seem shaken ! Dashed afar 
 
 He feels it part ; 'tis dropt j the waters roar.
 
 164 CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 He sees it in a sable vortex whirling, 
 Form'd by a cavern vast, that 'neath the sea, 
 
 Sucks the fierce torrent in ; and madly furling 
 His wings would plunge ; one moment more and he 
 
 Suck'd down, in earth's dark womb must wait eternity. 
 
 X. 
 
 " Pursue no farther ! stop ! alas ! for me, 
 If not thyself!" Phraerion's shrieks accost 
 
 Him thus " Who, Zophiel, shall protect for thee 
 The maid thou lov'st ? Hear ! stop ! or all are lost." 
 
 XI. 
 
 The verge, the verge is near. Must such a state, 
 Seraph, be thine ? No ! sank the spar within. 
 
 But the shrill warning reached him through the din 
 Of waves : back, back, he struggles, ere too late, 
 And the whole horror of the avoided fate 
 
 Shot through his soul. The wages of his sin 
 He felt, for once, were light, and clasp'd his shrieking 
 mate, 
 
 XII. 
 Who thus entreats, " Up ! to earth's pleasant fields ! 
 
 Oh, Zophiel, all this torture's for thy pleasure!" 
 Twined in his arms, the baffled Seraph yields, 
 And flies the hungry depth that gorged his dearest 
 treasure.
 
 THE STORM. 165 
 
 XIII. 
 What added torment gained ; then snatched away 
 
 Prest to his heart and then, to feel it riven 
 From heart and hand, while bearing it to day 
 
 With joy complete as if recalled to heaven ! 
 
 XIV. 
 
 That which, to own was perfect transport, lost ; 
 
 Yet still (to urge a dangerous course contending 
 And the fierce passions which his bosom crost 
 
 For pity, or some other hope, suspending;) 
 
 Resisting all, he forced a desperate way ; 
 
 His gentle phere, with plaints no longer vain, 
 Clung closer to his neck ; nor ceased to pray 
 
 To be restored to sun and flowers again. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Thus all entwined they rose again to air, 
 
 Near Lybia's coast. Black clouds, in mass deform, 
 
 Were frowning ; yet a moment's calm was there, 
 As it had stopp'd to breathe awhile the storm. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Their white feet pressed the desert sod ; they shook 
 From their bright locks the briny drops ; nor stayed 
 
 Zophiel on ills, present or past, to look ; 
 For, weary as he was, his lonely maid
 
 166 CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 Came to his ardent soul in all her charms ; 
 
 Unguarded she, what being might molest 
 Even now ? his chill'd and wounded substance warms 
 
 But at the thought ; the while he thus addrest 
 
 The shivering Sprite of flowers : li We must not stay ; (4) 
 
 All is but desolation here, and gloom : 
 Up ! let us through the air, nor more delay ; 
 Nay, droop not now ; a little more essay, 
 
 I'll bear thee forward to thy bower of bloom, 
 
 " And on thy roses lay thee down to rest. 
 
 Come through the desert ! banquet on thy store 
 Of dews and sweets. Come, warm thee at my breast ! 
 
 On ! through the air, nor think of danger more. 
 
 XVII. 
 " As grateful for the service thou hast done 
 
 I live, though lost the object of our task, 
 As if were still possessed the treasure won ; 
 
 And all thou wouldst of Zophiel, freely ask. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 " The Gnome, the secret path, the draught divine, 
 I know : Tahathyam sighs, beneath the wave, 
 
 For mortal bride ; valour and skill are mine ; 
 He may again bestow what once he gave."
 
 THE STORM. 167 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Thus, Zophiel, renovated, though the air 
 
 Was thick and dull, with just enough of hope 
 
 To save him from the stupor of despair, 
 
 Too much disdain'd the pains he felt, to droop. 
 
 XX. 
 
 But soft Phraerion, smarting from his toil, 
 
 To buffet not a tempest was in plight; 
 And Egla's lover saw him shrink, recoil, 
 
 And beg some nearer shelter for the night ; 
 
 For now the tempest, bursting in its might, 
 
 Raged fiercely round, and made him fain to rest 
 In cave or tomb. But Zophiel gently caught him, 
 
 Sustain'd him firmly at his fearless breast, 
 
 And twixt Euphrates and the Tigris brought him. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Then paused a moment o'er a desert drear, 
 Until the thunder clouds around him burst ; 
 
 His flights renewed, and wished for Media near ; 
 But stronger grows the gale : what Sprites accurst 
 
 Ride on the tempest ? Warring elements 
 Might not alone such ardent course impede ; 
 
 The wretched Spirit from his speed relents 
 
 With sense like mortal bosoms when they bleed.
 
 168 CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 XXII. 
 Loud and more loud the blast ; in mingled gyre, 
 
 Flew leaves and stones ; and with a deafening crash 
 Fell the uprooted trees ; heaven seemed on fire 
 
 Not, as 'tis wont, with intermitting flash, (5) 
 
 But, like an ocean all of liquid flame, 
 
 The whole broad arch gave one continuous glare, 
 While through the red light from their prowlings came, 
 
 The frighted beasts, and ran, but could not find a 
 lair. 
 
 XXIII. 
 " Rest, Zophiel, rest !" Phraerion cries: " the surge 
 
 Was lesser pain ; I cannot bear it more ! 
 Beaten in seas so long we but emerge 
 
 To meet a fiercer conflict on the shore ! " 
 
 XXIV. 
 Then Zophiel : " There's a little grot on high, 
 
 The wild doves nestle there : it is secure ; 
 To Ecbatane, but for an hour, I'll fly, 
 
 And come for thee at morn : no more endure. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 " Nay wilt not leave me ? then I'll bear thee through 
 As lately through the whirling floods I bore." 
 
 Still closer clinging, to his bosom grew 
 The tender sprite ; " then bear I can no more."
 
 THE STORM. 169 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 He said, and came a shock, as if the earth 
 
 Crash'd 'gainst some other planet; shivered brands 
 
 Whirl round their heads ; and (shame upon their birth !) 
 Both Sprites lay mazed and prostrate on the sands. 
 
 XXVII. 
 The delicate Phraerion sought a cave 
 
 Low browed ; and crouching down mid trailing snakes, 
 And slimy worms (things that would hide to save 
 
 Their loathsome lives) hearkens the roar and quakes. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 But Zophiel, stung with shame, and in a mood 
 
 Too fierce for fear, uprose; yet ere for flight 
 Served his torn wings, a form before him stood 
 
 In gloomy majesty. Like starless night 
 
 A sable mantle fell in cloudy fold (6) 
 From its stupendous breast ; and as it trod 
 
 The pale and lurid light, at distance rolled 
 Before its princely feet receding on the sod. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 'Tvvas still as death ; save that the thunder spoke 
 In mutterings low and far ; a look severe 
 
 Seemed as preluding speech ; but Zophiel broke 
 The silence first : " Why, Spirit, art thou here? 1
 
 170 CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 It waved its hand, and instantaneous came 
 A hissing bolt with new impetus back ; 
 
 Darts round a group of verdant palms the flame ; 
 That being pointed to them, blasted black. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 " Oh ! source of all my guilt ! at such an hour," 
 (The mortal-lover said) " thine answer there 
 
 I need not read : too well I know thy power 
 In all I've felt and feel. But has despair, 
 
 " Or grief, or torment, e'er made Zophiel bow ? 
 
 Declare me that, nor spend thine arts in vain 
 To torture more : if, like a miscreant, now 
 
 I bend to thee, 'tis not for dread of pain ; 
 
 " That I can bear : yet, bid thy legions cease 
 Their strife. Oh ! spare me this resistance rude 
 
 But for an hour ! let me but on in peace ; 
 So shall I taste the joy of gratitude, 
 
 " Even to thee." " The joy ? " then first with scorn 
 Replied that sombre being : " dream'st thou still 
 
 Of joy? a thing accursed, demean'd, forlorn, 
 
 As thou art ? Is't for joy thou mock'st my will ?
 
 THE STORM. 171 
 
 " Canst thou taste pleasure? banish'd, crush'd, debased.' 
 " I can, betrayer ! dost thou envy me ? 
 
 But leave me to my wrongs, and I can taste 
 Ev'n yet of heaven, spite of my fall and thee. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 " But that affects not thee : thine insults spare 
 But for an hour ; leave me to go at will 
 
 Only till morn, and I will back and bear 
 Whate'er thou wilt. What dost obstruct me still ? 
 
 " Thine armies dim, and shrouded in the storm 
 Then I must meet ; and weary thus, and torn, 
 
 Essay the force of an immortal arm, 
 Lone as I am, until another morn 
 
 " Shall shame both them and thee to thine abode. 
 
 There, on the steam of human heart-blood spilt (7) 
 By priest or murderer, make repast ; or brood 
 
 Over the vile creations of thy guilt. (8) 
 
 " Waste thy life-giving power on reptiles foul ; (9) 
 
 Slow, slimy worms, and poisonous snakes; then watch, 
 
 Like the poor brutes that, here, for hunger prowl, 
 To mar the beauty that thou canst not match ! "
 
 172 CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Thus he : the other folded o'er its breast 
 
 Its arms, and stood as cold and firm the while. 
 
 As if no passion stirr'd ; save that express'd 
 Its pale, pale lip, a faint ferocious smile. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 While, blent with winds, ten thousand agents wage (10) 
 
 Anew the strife, and Zophiel, fain to fly, 
 But foil'd, gave up to unavailing rage, 
 
 And strove, and toil'd, and strove, but could not mount 
 on high. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 Then thus the torturer: " Hie thee to the bed 
 
 Of her thou lov'st ; pursue thy dear design ; 
 Go dew the golden ringlets of her head ! 
 
 Thou wait'st not, sure, for any power of mine. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 " Yet better were the duties, Spirit dull, 
 Of thine allegiance ! Win her o'er to me, 
 
 Take all thou canst, a pleasure brief but full. 
 Vain dreamer, if not mine, she's lost to thee." 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 " Wilt thou then hurt her ? Why am I detain'd ? 
 
 Oh, strength ! once serving 'gainst the powers above, 
 Where art thou now ? " Thus Zophiel ; and he strain'd 
 
 His wounded wings to mount, but could not move.
 
 THE STORM. 173 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Then thus the scornpr : " Nay, be calm ! I'll still 
 The storm for thee : hear ! it recedes 'tis ended. 
 
 Yet, if thou dream'st success awaits thee, ill 
 Dost thou conceive of boundless power offended. 
 
 XL. 
 
 " Zophiel, bland sprite, sublime intelligence, 
 Once chosen for my friend and worthy me ; 
 
 Not so wouldst thou have labour* d to be hence, 
 Had my emprise been crowned with victory. 
 
 " When I was bright in heaven, thy seraph eyes 
 Sought only mine. But he who every power 
 
 Beside, while hope allured him, could despise, 
 Changed and forsook me, in misfortune's hour." 
 
 XLII. 
 
 " Changed and forsook thee ? this from thee to me ? 
 
 Once noble Spirit ! Oh ! had not too much 
 My o'erfond heart adored thy fallacy, 
 
 I had not, now, been here to bear thy keen reproach ;' : 
 
 XLIII. 
 Zophiel replied : " Fallen, wretched, and debased, 
 
 E'en to thy scornful words extent, my doom 
 Too well I know, and for what cause displaced ; 
 
 But not from thee should the remembrance come.
 
 174 CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 XL IV. 
 " Forsook thee in misfortune ? at thy side 
 
 I closer fought as peril thicken'd round, 
 Watched o'er thee fallen : the light of heaven denied, 
 
 But proved my love more fervent and profound. 
 
 XLV. 
 " Prone as thou wert, had I been mortal-born, 
 
 And own'd as many lives as leaves there be, 
 From all Hyrcania by this tempest torn 
 
 I had lost them, one by one, and given the last for thee. 
 
 XL VI. 
 " Pain had a joy, for suffering could but wring 
 
 Love from my soul, to gild the murky air 
 Of our first rude retreat ; while I, fond thing ! 
 
 Still thought thee true and smiled upon despair. 
 
 XL VI I. 
 " Oh ! had thy plighted pact of faith been kept, 
 
 Still unaccomplish'd were the curse of sin j 
 Mid all the woes thy ruin'd followers wept, 
 
 Had friendship lingered, hell could not have been. 
 
 XLVIll. 
 " But when, to make me thy first minister 
 
 Came the proposal ; when the purpose burst 
 Forth from its treacherous den disclosed and bare, 
 
 Then first I felt alone, and knew myself accurst.
 
 THE STORM. 175 
 
 " Though the first seraph form'd, how could I tell (11) 
 The ways of guile ? What marvel I believed, 
 
 When cold ambition mimick'd love so well, 
 
 That half the sons of heaven looked on deceived ? 
 
 XLIX. 
 " Ambition thine ; to me the Eternal gave 
 
 So much of love his kind design was crost : 
 Held to thy heart I thought thee good as brave, 
 
 Nor realized my guilt till all was lost. 
 
 "^Now, writhing at my utmost need, how vain 
 
 Are ZophieTs tears and prayers ! Alas ! heaven-born, 
 
 Of all heaven's virtues, doth not one remain ? 
 Pity me once, and let me now begone !" 
 
 LI. 
 " Go ! " said the cold detainer, with a smile 
 
 That heighten'd cruelty : " yet know, from me, 
 Thy foolish hopes but lure thee on awhile 
 
 To wake thy sense to keener misery." 
 
 LII. 
 " Oh ! skill'd to torment ! spare me, spare me, now I" 
 
 Chill'd by a dread foreboding, Zophiel said : 
 " But little time doth waning night allow." 
 
 He knelt ; he wept ; calm grew the winds ; he fled.
 
 176 CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 The clouds disperse ; his heavenly voice he sent 
 In whispers through the caves ; Phraerion there, 
 
 In covert loathed, to that low music lent 
 
 His soft quick ear and sprang to join his phere. 
 
 Soon through the desert, on their airy way, 
 Mantled in dewy mists the Spirits prest, 
 
 And reached fair Media, ere the twilight grey 
 Recall'd the rose's lover to his nest., 
 
 But on the Tygris' winding banks, though night 
 Still lingers round, two early mortals greet 
 
 The first faint gleam with prayer; and bathed and dight 
 As travellers came forth. The morn rose sweet, 
 
 And rushing by them as the Spirits past, 
 In tinted vapours while the pale star sets ; 
 
 The younger asked , " Whence are these odours cast, 
 The breeze has waked from beds of violets ?" 
 
 Cuba. Pueblo Nuevo, Avgust 1828.
 
 NOTES 
 
 TO 
 
 CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 (1) "And fed on the revenge deep smouldering in his breast.'' 
 CAIUS MARIUS, musing over the ruins of Carthage, has been made 
 the subject of a very good picture ; and the author of that not very 
 old Italian work, entitled ' Notti Roraane,' has entered with great 
 effect into those feelings which the successor of Sylla probably 
 acted under. If the characters of those who commit crimes could 
 be analyzed, it would be found, perhaps invariably, that such persons 
 are either too stupid to be sensible of what they do, or under some 
 illusion of feeling or imagination which entirely conceals from them 
 its atrocity. 
 
 " Nodrito dalla sola vendetta m' inoltrai sulla spiaggia pere- 
 grinando verso Minturno : ivi mi abbattei immantininte ne' guerrieri 
 Sillani miei indefessi persecutori. Mi gettai fra le onde a nuoto, e 
 mi rivolei a due navi, non remote, per ricoverarmi in esse. Le 
 gravi, provette, vaste, oppresse, mie membra faceano a stento quell' 
 offizio, cosi che il sommergermi era imminente, lo udiva intanto 
 que' sicarj dal lido far voti crudeli a Nettuno, ed a Nereo, perche 
 mi traessero negli abbissi loro, et invocare i mostri voraci del mare ; 
 e srhernire con ribalde parole quella mia trista ansieta. 
 
 " A me sospinto da continue sciagure, scacciato da ogni lido, era 
 omai divenuto ogni terra inospitale, ogni mare tempestoso ; e stetti 
 
 N
 
 178 NOTES TO CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 muto contemplando le ruine della spenta Cartagine, come specchio 
 della fortuna." Notti Romane. 
 
 Marius, soon after the scene depicted in this extract, returned to 
 Rome, and (as he is made to express it in the same work) purged 
 the city of its horrid ingratitude. 
 
 (2) "From where with children's blood their guilty altars reek." 
 
 The Carthaginians retained the custom of offering human 
 sacrifices to their gods, till the destruction of their city. When 
 Gelon of Syracuse gained a victory over them in Sicily, one of the 
 articles of stipulation was that no more human lives should be 
 sacrified to Saturn. " For (says Rollin) during the whole engage- 
 ment, which lasted from morn till night, Hamilcar, the son of Hanno, 
 was continually offering to the gods sacrifices of living men, who 
 were thrown on a flaming pile." Seeing his troops put to flight, 
 Hamilcar threw himself upon the same pile, and received, after his 
 death, divine honours. Mothers (according to Plutarch and 
 Tertullian), threw their children into the sacrificial flames ; and 
 the least indication of pity or sorrow, would have been punished 
 in them as impious. 
 
 According to the belief of the fathers, it must have been the 
 princely instigator of the rebellion in heaven who caused himself to 
 be adored as the god Belus or Saturn, whose altars were continually 
 glowing with the blood and flames of human sacrifices. Those 
 angels who fell from the thirst of power must have been the authors 
 of all cruelty. The seraphic offenders were only voluptuous. The 
 angel presiding over licentious love is sometimes forcibly alluded 
 to in " Les Martyrs " of M. de Chateaubriand. 
 
 (3) " But far, far off upon the sea's expanse, 
 The very silence has a shriek of fear." 
 
 In the suspense and stillness which precedes a storm on or near 
 the ocean, or any other vast extent of water, there is an effect pro- 
 duced on the feelings of some persons, as if a shriek were really
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE FOURTH. 170 
 
 uttered in the distance. This effect was probably attributed, by 
 such of the ancients as observed it, to their sea-gods or nymphs. 
 Christian fathers or Jewish rabbins must have supposed it to pro- 
 ceed from those angels which, according to the books of the latter, 
 preside over the elements. 
 
 (4) " The shivering Sprite of flowers" 
 
 According to the Hebraic writings, nothing animate or inani- 
 mate exists throughout all nature, without a particular angel to 
 protect and take care of it. 
 
 " Archangelos et angelos, quibus cura committitur Regnorum, 
 provinciarum, Nationum, principum, et paiticularium personarum ; 
 quaeritur igitur, num etiam animalia bruta, et res insensibiles, id 
 est lapides, et elementa atque etiam vegetabilia habeant proprios 
 Angelos ad sui custodiam destinatos ?" Bibliotheca Magnet Rabbi- 
 nica ; Bartoloccii. 
 
 This, whether true or false, is much more delightful than the 
 belief or knowledge that everything depends on material laws. 
 The Greeks had a nymph for every tree ; and their religion was a 
 mere alteration of those of the more oriental and ancient nations. 
 The idea of the Elysian fields was, it has been supposed, conceived 
 by Orpheus after a glance at the vast subterranean abodes of the 
 priests of Egypt, who, as is usual, converted those sublime truths 
 conveyed to them, according to the faith of the fathers, by erring 
 but celestial intelligences, to purposes of the grossest fraud and 
 cruelty. 
 
 (5) "Not, as 'tis wont, with intermitting flash, 
 
 But, like an ocean, all of liquid flame," 
 
 This is but a simple description of the appearance of the sky for 
 several minutes during a storm which happened (on the island where 
 the verses of the text were written) either in the year. 1823 or 
 1824. I lay under a transparent mosquito net, listening to the
 
 180 NOTES TO CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 pleasing noise made by the trees and shrubs around the principal 
 dwelling of the Cafetal San Patricio, and watching the flashes of 
 lightning that darted through the green blinds of an unglazed 
 window. It was about midnight when the loudness of the' thunder- 
 peals increased, and the flashes became more continued than any I 
 had ever seen. A crash was soon heard from without, and the 
 whole room seemed deluged, as it were, with flame. 
 
 Thinking the building on fire I arose, and succeeded in waking 
 a negress, who still slept soundly by the door of my apartment. 
 Going into the hall, and getting a window opened which looked 
 into a broad piazza, I was surprised to see it occnpied by those 
 fierce dogs which were accustomed to be let loose at ten or eleven 
 o'clock at night, in order that they might prowl about till sunrise 
 and guard the plantation. They had sought shelter from the ele- 
 ments, and as they ran in a distressed manner from one side of 
 the piazza to the other, it seemed as if they moved in fire ; for 
 the whole firmament continued to be, at long intervals, like a vast 
 sea of light. Some glazed windows on the slant roof of the build- 
 ing were torn from their hinges and whirled over the secaderos,* 
 and the rain then descended in cataracts. 
 
 The sun rose brightly the next morning, and the scene, though 
 rather sad, was delightful. The Bermuda-grass plats were strown 
 with leaves, twigs, and broken flowers ; and numbers of those 
 black birds which the Spanish inhabitants of the island call 
 judeos, were hovering over a dark clump of bamboos which had 
 been torn up by the roots, and uttering the most piteous cries ; 
 for many of them were unable to find again their nests constructed 
 amidst the almost impervious foliage of those vast and beautiful 
 reeds which now lay prostrate. 
 
 The palm thatching was torn from some of the outhouses of 
 
 * Secaderos are made of plaster, in the manner of broad platforms, rising a 
 little, however, in the centre, and formed with many divisions and conduits for 
 the rain which is retained in cisterns beneath them. On these, the red and sweet- 
 smelling coffee berries are dried.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE FOURTH. 181 
 
 San Patricio. One mansion and a neighbouring estate (belonging 
 to Don Jos6 Martinez) was taken by the tempest from an insecure 
 foundation and set in another place ; one estate, several leagues 
 distant and near a river, was deluged, but no human lives, that I 
 heard of, were lost. 
 
 (6) A sable mantle fell in cloudy fold 
 From it stupendous breast." 
 
 That many of the angels were of a larger stature than that of 
 men, appears to have been believed by the oriental nations. 
 Asrael, or Azarael, who assisted in forming the first man, was, 
 according to Rabadan the Morisco, noticed particularly by the 
 Creator on account of his uncommon stature. 
 
 Herodotus relates that Xerxes while yet undecided upon carrying 
 the war into Greece, was warmly dissuaded from his design by his 
 brother Artabanes ; falling asleep, soon after, he saw, in a dream, 
 a man of uncommon stature and beauty, who urged him on to the 
 undertaking. This, Calmet supposes, must have been some angel or 
 spirit who sought his destruction. 
 
 It is said of Apollonius Tyaneus, that, coming to the tomb of 
 Achilles, he raised his manes, and begged that the figure of the 
 hero might appear to him ; whereupon a phantom appeared like a 
 young man, seven feet and a half high ; which soon increased to 
 twelve cubits, and assumed an extraordinary beauty. The whole, 
 however, proved to be the work of a daemon which Apollonius had 
 power over. This incident is introduced by Byron in ' The 
 Deformed Transformed.' 
 
 (7) " There, on the steam of human heart-blood spilt 
 
 By priest or murderer make repast." 
 
 Those evil spirits or angels who caused themselves to be adored 
 as deities, were said to subsist (accordiug to M. de Fontenelle, 
 who gives authority for all that he asserts,*) on the smoke of 
 
 * ' Leurs corps acriens se nourissent de fumigations de sang rep&ndu et de U 
 Kraisse de sacrifice*.' Hittmre des Oracles.
 
 182 NOTES TO CANTO THE FOURTH. 
 
 sacrifices. One is almost induced to believe, with the earlier 
 Christians, that daemons really inhabited those temples where so 
 much human blood was spilt. It is far more shocking to suppose 
 that so horrid an expedient could have been invented by one's 
 fellow-mortals for the purposes of deception or interest 
 
 (8) Over the vile creations of thy guilt," 
 It is not impossible that some of the angels who assisted at the 
 creation (as is believed by all very ancient nations) might after the 
 fall have amused themselves with making those noisome and 
 disgusting reptiles and animalcule which can but startle one's 
 belief in the beneficence of the being who formed them. 
 
 (9) " Waste thy life-giving power on reptiles fouL" 
 Life, it is supposed, may exist without the slightest mixture of 
 soul, as is the case with many marine animals. Some chemists, in 
 the enthusiasm of their successes, have imagined that even human 
 life was kept up by a mechanical process carried on in the lungs. 
 This, granting it for a moment to be true, does not in the least 
 detract from the power or bounty of the great Creator and fountain 
 of soul, for of what value is any animated form unless ennobled by 
 a breath or emanation from him ? 
 
 After receiving it as a truth that such beings as good and evil 
 angels exist, one may reasonably suppose them in possession of 
 many arts and much science, which men, from the shortness of 
 their lives, have been unable to attain. 
 
 (10) " While, blent with winds, ten thousand agents wage 
 Anew the strife," 
 
 Many passages in the writings of both Jews and Christians 
 occur to justify this. It must, however, have been some inferior 
 angel, who (according to the continually quoted belief of the fathers) 
 was worshipped as the god ^Eolus. The " prince of the powers of 
 the air" himself must have been sufficiently employed in feasting on 
 the exhalations of the blood of his numerous sacrifices. The god
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE FOURTH. 185) 
 
 Mars, to preserve the same system entire, must have been also 
 one of his subordinates. The field of battle, therefore, together 
 with the hearts that quivered on altars both in the old and new 
 world, must have made his banquets long and frequent. 
 
 (11) Though thefirst seraph formed, how could I tell 
 The ways of guile?" 
 
 The angels are supposed to have been created at different 
 periods ; they were endowed with different capacities, and had 
 different employments assigned to them. 
 
 " Cum enim soli Angeli supremae hierarchies immediate illumi- 
 nentur a Deo, illi soli dicuntur assistere Deo; caeteri aliarnm 
 hierarchiarum, ministrantes Angeli nominantur. Itaque tarn illi, 
 quam isti sunt fere infiniti.' Bibliotheca Magna Hebraica., 
 Bartoloccii.
 
 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 ZAMBIA.
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Morning. Helon and Hariph travelling along the banks of the 
 Tigris. Helon is sorrowful, in consequence of a dream of the 
 preceding night ; receives a box from Hariph. Helon and Hariph 
 see the Princess Zameia. Neantes relates the story of Zameia ; 
 her appearance in the temple of Mylitta ; her love for Meles ; the 
 falsehood and dereliction of Meles ; her sufferings ; her escape from 
 the garden of Imlec.
 
 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 ZAMBIA. 
 
 How beauteous art thou, O thou morning sun ! 
 The old man, feebly tottering forth, admires 
 
 As much thy beauty, now life's dream is done, 
 As when he moved exulting in his fires. 
 
 II. 
 The infant strains his little arms to catch 
 
 The rays that glance about his silken hair ; 
 And Luxury hangs her amber lamps, to match 
 
 Thy face, when turned away from bower and palace 
 fair. 
 
 III. 
 Sweet to the lip, the draught, the blushing fruit ; 
 
 Music and perfumes mingle with the soul ; 
 How thrills the kiss, when feeling's voice is mute ! 
 And light and beauty's tints enhance the whole.
 
 188 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 IV. 
 Yet each keen sense were dullness but for thee : 
 
 Thy ray to joy, love, virtue, genius, warms ; 
 Thou never weariest : no inconstancy 
 
 But comes to pay new homage to thy charms. 
 
 How many lips have sung thy praise, how long ! 
 
 Yet, when his slumbering harp he feels thee woo, 
 The pleasured bard pours forth another song, 
 
 And finds in thee, like love, a theme for ever new. 
 
 VI. 
 Thy dark-eyed daughters come in beauty forth 
 
 In thy near realms ; and, like their snow-wreaths fair, 
 The bright-hair'd youths and maidens of the North 
 
 Smile in thy colours when thou art not there. 
 
 VII. 
 'Tis there thou bid'st a deeper ardour glow, (1) 
 
 And higher, purer reveries completes!; 
 As drops that farthest from the ocean flow, 
 
 Refining all the way, from springs the sweetest. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Haply, sometimes, spent with the sleepless night, 
 
 Some wretch impassioned, from sweet morning's breath, 
 
 Turns his hot brow and sickens at thy light ; 
 
 But Nature, ever kind, soon heals or gives him death.
 
 ZAMBIA. 
 
 Fair sun, no goodlier shape thy smiles this morn 
 Caress'd than Helon's, as he came from far; 
 
 A broidered scarf for girdle, closely drawn, 
 
 And sandals on his feet, like Parthian messenger. 
 
 X. 
 
 The youth's brown ringlets in the loving beam 
 
 Hung changeful, bright, and crisp ; his neck and bust 
 
 Have thousand beauties, all their own, and seem 
 Not only moulded to proportion just, 
 
 But all his form, slightly attenuate, 
 
 As best bespeaks activity, exprest 
 Something unseen ; as if might emanate, 
 
 Excess of soul through the material breast, (2) 
 
 That heaved and panted 'neath his garment blue, 
 (Which fell but to the knee) and, all about, 
 
 A warmth a mystic charm seemed breathing through 
 Each viewless pore, and circling him without. (3) 
 
 XI. 
 His youthful cheek was bronzed ; and though his eye 
 
 Was of no vaunted hue, successive came 
 Of war and chase the quick variety ; 
 
 But oftener tenderness lent there her gentlest flame.
 
 190 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 XII. 
 His sinewy arms were bare, and at his back 
 
 A bow and quiver held their airy place ; 
 Like some young hunter in the tiger's track 
 
 He moved, with dart in hand, all symmetry and grace. 
 
 XIII. 
 But though (as rosy mists dispersed around 
 
 And birds sang sweet, and thousand insects humm'd ;) 
 He met with passing joy the sight and sound, 
 
 Yet sadness o'er his face full soon her reign resumed. 
 
 Nor this escaped an old man at his side, 
 
 Whose looks told tales of many years ; but fair 
 
 He was, and for a youth beseeming guide ; 
 Not Casius'* peaks were whiter than his hair. 
 
 XV. 
 
 On hair or robe nor spot nor stain was seen, 
 
 Though earth had been his bed, and dust his path : 
 
 Cool look'd he in the sun, and pure and clean, 
 As if in marble hall and fresh from recent bath. 
 
 * For the origin of the name of this mountain or ridge, see an 
 article on Mount Caucasus in ' Asiatic Researches.'
 
 ZAMBIA. 191 
 
 XVI. 
 
 And so, he spoke : " Why, Helon, art thou thus 
 Silent and sad ? the desert way we've past, 
 
 Has been a path of founts and flowers to us ; 
 Yet, at our wandering's close, I view thy brow o'ercast." 
 
 XVII. 
 Then Helon said: " What cause for joy have I, 
 
 E'en were th' uncertain dross we seek for found ? 
 Who now regards my gentle mother's sigh 
 
 While I am far ? and what reward has crowned 
 
 " My father's worth and truth ? Alas ! our God, 
 
 Who sits rejoicing in his mystery 
 And boundless power, I fear may not accord 
 
 The least of his regards to them or me. 
 
 " Forsake but him, and palaces unfold 
 Their hospitable gates to me and mine; 
 
 Now, for a beggar's hoard, a little gold, 
 
 I go a wanderer forth, the last of all my line. 
 
 " I gave up every youthful hope, nay more, 
 Would give up life as freely as a sigh; 
 
 For, if old Zoroh live, and should restore 
 The treasure sought, our dwindled line must die.
 
 192 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 XX. 
 
 " Why beats this heart ? why is this arm so strong ? 
 
 Soon, to a little earth dissolved again, 
 Shall ever pen of scribe or harper's song 
 
 Declare that one like Helon ere has been ? 
 
 XXI. 
 
 " My sire and mother dead, around their tombs 
 
 I, like a ghost, must linger, loving nought : 
 Oh ! if to this our God his faithful dooms, 
 
 Cast cast me to the flames, and save me from the 
 thought!" (4) 
 
 XXII. 
 The old man look'd upon him, mark'd his pain, 
 
 And love and pity mingled with that look ; 
 For on his youthful brow was swoln the vein, 
 
 And like the fevered sick his pulses shook. 
 
 Yet on he spoke : " Still might I, warm with life, 
 Back to the queen of cities ; take my place ; 
 
 Choose from the bowers of Babylon a wife; 
 And bless my mother's eyes with a new-blooming race. 
 
 " That else is lost. What, though the fair I take 
 E'en from Mylitta's fanes ? Women may be 
 
 Enthrall'd by love, and often will forsake 
 All other gods for love's idolatry." (5)
 
 ZAMBIA. 193 
 
 XXIII. 
 The old man turned and uttered, " Do 1 hear 
 
 From Helon this ? some evil thing some Sprite, 
 While darkness reigned, has whispered in thine ear, 
 
 And tempted thee, in visions of the night." 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 " Some evil thing?" returned the youth in mood 
 
 More vehement : " If evil things can give 
 Dreams such as mine, let me turn foe to good, 
 
 And make a God of Evil while I live !" 
 
 XXV. 
 
 " Make thee a God of Evil ?" Hariph said ; 
 
 " Too daring boy, the ambient viewless air 
 Teems with a race that hovers o'er thy head; 
 
 Woe to thy heart and thee if some find entrance there! " 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 "From childhood nurtured 'neath the Baalic willow, 
 
 Where every breeze respires Idolatry, 
 Thy soul, even as thy lip Euphrates billow, 
 
 Has drank pollution, spite of heaven and me." 
 
 " Pollution ! Hariph, could such being beam 
 (So Helon spoke) as from a fearful death 
 
 I saved last night (Ah ! why was't but a dream ?) 
 She would not be unworthy tho' her breath
 
 194 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 " Had been derived from Pagan sorcerer, 
 Priest of the Cnidian fanes, or priest of fire; 
 
 The signet of high heaven, impress' d on her, 
 
 Gives to oblivion these, and stamps her heavenly sire!' 
 
 The old man turn'd, and cast upon the boy, 
 (Who for his fervour spoke in impious guise), 
 
 An anxious glance ; but yet a secret joy 
 
 The while he thus reproved seem'd hidden in his eyes. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 "Thy doubts and words are guilty! 'Tis not given 
 To son of mortal (though he even may be 
 
 O'erwatch'd and well-beloved by those of heaven) 
 To know what Beings sway his destiny ; 
 
 " Thy dream was good ; but, lest thyself undo 
 All that is done, I tell thee, youth, beware ! 
 
 Curb thine impatience ; keep thy God in view, 
 And drink obediently whate'er he may prepare. 
 
 " Nor deed, nor prayer, nor suffering of the just 
 Is ever lost : (He said; his clear eye flash'd.) 
 
 Tempt not the powers that love thee more !" then first 
 The youth felt awe and dropt his lids abash'd.
 
 ZAMBIA. 195 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Still Hariph spoke : " If ever thou shouldst live 
 
 To be in danger from a potent sprite, 
 Recall me to thy mind ; take what I give, 
 
 And burn whate'er it holds, with perfume in his sight." 
 
 XXXIII. 
 Helon received a little box composed 
 
 Of carneol* ; and the sun-beams as they rush'd 
 Through the transparent hollow gem, disclosed 
 
 What seem'd a serpent's heart, but dried and crushed. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Then bent they near a thicket, side by side, 
 
 Their friendly way; nor more in words exprest; 
 
 But often Helon looked upon his guide, 
 And seem'd communing with his inmost breast. 
 
 Warm grew the day; and now, as if to mock 
 Their sight, with sudden wind the river swept ; 
 
 They turn a mossy dark, projecting rock, 
 
 And start, for 'neath its crags, a woman slept, 
 
 * The carneol is a gem of carnation tint, which for hardness 
 ranks little below the ruby and amethyst.
 
 196 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 Pallid and worn, but beautiful and young, 
 
 Tho' mark'd her charms by wildest passions trace ; 
 
 Her long round arms, over a fragment flung, 
 From pillow all too rude protect a face, 
 
 Whose dark and high arch'd brows gave to the thought 
 To deem what radiance once they towered above ; 
 
 But all its proudly beauteous outline taught 
 
 That anger, there, had shared the throne of love. 
 
 Rich are her robes, but torn, and soil'dj and gleams 
 Above her belt a dagger set with gems. 
 
 Her long thick hair, 'scaped from its braiding, streams 
 Black as a serpent, to her garments' hems. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Black as a serpent ; Daughters of the woods, 
 You see him 'mid Mechaceba's roses ; while 
 
 Your bright canoes upon the vernal floods, 
 
 Are thrown to bear you to some floating isle : (6) 
 
 Where sleeping bisons sail upon the tide ; 
 There, while thro' golden blossomed nenuphar, 
 
 Your arrows pierce some tall flamingo's side, 
 
 He rears his white-ringed neck and watches you from 
 far. (7)
 
 197 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Her sandall'd feet were scarr'd, and drops of blood 
 Still rested fresh on them, by tooth of thorn 
 
 Express'd; and let day's eye look where it would, 
 'Twere hard to find such beauty so forlorn. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Near on the moss lay one who seem'd her guide; 
 
 A mule among the herbs his pittance took; 
 A little slave of Ethiope, at her side, 
 
 Sat watching o'er them all with many a sorrowing look. 
 
 Helon drew back, but only half suppress'd 
 
 The cry surprise propell'd. " What strange mischance 
 Brings to the desert these ? "While so address'd 
 
 Hariph, the one on earth awoke beneath their glance ; 
 
 And laid his finger on his lip, in fear, 
 
 And on the sleeper gazed ; she did not stir: 
 
 Then throwing from his sunken eye a tear, 
 He fell before their feet a suppliant for her. 
 
 XLI. 
 Then Helon thus : " Distrust us not, but tell 
 
 "Why thou art here, and who is that soft dame ? 
 Thyself, thine accent, and her garb speak well 
 
 That from the City of the Dove ye came. (8)
 
 198 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 XLII. 
 " I'm one, (he said) by cruel man designed 
 
 The doubtful faith, in absence, to protect 
 Of hearts as wayward as the desert wind ; 
 
 And which, despite of all, love only can subject. 
 
 XLIJI. 
 " To care of women, nurtured from a boy, 
 
 Stranger, in me a suffering wretch you see 
 Ripen'd to age, but in that soft employ, 
 
 A princess' only guard, but frail and weak as she. 
 
 XLIV. 
 " Our silken limbs by biting brambles torn, 
 
 Have felt the noontide heat and drenching rain ; 
 And that bright maid, for love and pleasure born. 
 
 Breathes to the desert blast her burning sighs in vain. 
 
 " Yet have we lived adorers of that power 
 
 Which to the death-reap'd world a race supplies 
 As numerous as the stars of midnight skies, 
 Or desert sands, or dust from every flower* 
 That blossoms by the stream that flow'd from paradise. 
 
 "Phrah: the original name, the Euphrates, is thought by Jose- 
 phus to signify flower or dispersion.
 
 ZAMBIA. 190 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 " Divine Mylitta ! child of light and that 
 
 Which from dark nothing forra'd the teeming earth, (9) 
 Of that which on the circling waters sat ; 
 
 Andwarm'd, andcharm'd and ranged, till Nature sprang 
 to birth. 
 
 XLVI I. 
 " Divine Mylitta ! kindler of the flames 
 
 That light life's lamp, in duteousness, to thee, 
 I brought this gem, this sun of Syrian dames, 
 
 But, now thy slave and Love's, thou mock'st her 
 misery." 
 
 XLVIII. 
 Then Helon spoke : " Has any wretch, more fell 
 
 Than he who first his hurtful arts essay'd 
 On her of Paradise, done this ? nay, tell 
 
 Thy tale ; and take, if we can lend thee, aid." 
 
 XLIX. 
 " Then listen, stranger, but for Belus' sake 
 
 Let her sleep on who hath such need of rest," 
 Zameia's guardian said ; for when awake, 
 
 The flames of Tartarus are in her breast. 
 
 L. 
 
 " She sat and raved last eve, in the pale light, 
 Till the fair moon she looked on seem'd to shrink 
 
 From her distress : fearing some spell or blight, 
 I drew her to this grot, and drugg'd her drink."
 
 200 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 Then softly near to her wild couch he drew, 
 Twining the tendrils o'er her, as he can, 
 
 To save from sun as they had saved from dew, 
 Then sat him on the rock, and thus his story ran 
 
 LJI. 
 " The warrior Imlec by Euphrates' side 
 
 Received his birth ; there still, belike, he thrives ; 
 And when he took Zameia for a bride, 
 
 His beard was white, and he had many wives. 
 
 " Now, when I tell thee her inconstancy, 
 Let thoughts of pity mingle with the blame 
 
 'Tis just to cast upon adultery, 
 And scorn and coldness to the nuptial flame. 
 
 LIV. 
 " There's oft which, were it known, might wash away 
 
 Full half the stain of guilt : fame will not heed 
 The train of lesser truths ; but drags to-day, 
 
 And shows the shuddering world, all bare and black, 
 the deed. 
 
 LV. 
 " There were who said that Imlec's life was vile, 
 
 Ev'n when possess'd of all her blooming charms ; 
 How could she else than loathe who knew the while 
 He came exhausted from an Ethiop's arms ?
 
 ZAMBIA. 201 
 
 LVI. 
 
 " Whate'er the cause, she ever would rebel : 
 
 Yet when increased, her loathing pleased him best ; 
 
 And, for caprice or love, it so befel, 
 He built for her, apart from all the rest, 
 
 LVII. 
 " A precious palace, and a garden fair, 
 
 And gave to me the charge, from every ill 
 To keep and guard her well ; nor ever dare, 
 
 Unless it wrong'd his love, to cross in aught her will. 
 
 LVIII. 
 " So she had founts and birds, and gems, and gold, 
 
 And care of these and her was given to me ; 
 And Imlec (in his youth a warrior bold) 
 
 Beyond the Indus went on embassy. 
 
 LIX. 
 " Do all I could, she sullen grew and sad ; 
 
 And very oft the public streets would see, 
 And oft (alas ! what days of fear I had !) 
 
 Her deep disgust for Imlec, spoke to me. 
 
 " I knew his jealousy, and was afraid ; 
 
 For, if there fell upon her fame a breath, 
 (While treating with the Indian king he stay'd) 
 
 I had been charged to answer it with death.
 
 202 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 LXI. 
 " What could I ? bland Mylitta, patroness 
 
 Of rich Assyria and her glowing fair 
 I sought ; but no propitious sign might bless 
 
 The inilk-white cloves and flowers of beauty rare 
 
 LXII. 
 " I daily brought : the goddess scorn'd my pains, 
 
 And turn'd from all my gifts her heavenly eyes ; 
 For yet, the princess never at her fanes 
 
 Of her young charms had made the sacrifice 
 
 " Required of every Babylonian dame, 
 
 Whoe'er her lord or sire : this was my care ; 
 
 And when the opening of the roses came, 
 
 With many a native wreath I led Zameia there. 
 
 LXIII. 
 " Oh ! it was sweet to see in marble pure 
 
 The semblance of the goddess while she smiled, 
 As in her own eternal power secure, 
 
 She watch'd the movements of her light-winged child. 
 
 " Nor e'er had icy marble took such charm ; 
 
 Save that the deity once, in a dream, 
 Came to her sculptor all alive and warm, 
 
 And gave him power to catch each glow and gleam.
 
 ZAMEIA. 203 
 
 " And seem'd her lip to deeper pleasure changing, 
 While to her temple rush'd th' adoring crowd, 
 
 And groups, almost as fair as she, arranging 
 
 Their offerings at her feet, in soft submission bow'd ; 
 
 " The tender breeze that, sighing all about, 
 Their musky locks with roses woven greets, 
 
 Now whispering through the myrtle groves without, 
 Now fainting with variety of sweets. 
 
 LXVII. 
 " A fairer scene warm Syria never shall (10) 
 
 Behold, nor ever had beheld before ; 
 Full many a stranger throngM the festival ; 
 
 And here, whate'er their god, how could they but adore ? 
 
 " But of the gentle votarists, some in tears, 
 And lips amidst their adoration quivering, 
 
 While a soft horror in their look appears, 
 Do all they could, with fear and doubt were shivering. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 " Some, form'd for faith and tenderest constancy, 
 But to avert heaven's anger sought the place; 
 
 And breathe for absent lord the blameless sigh, 
 And shudder at the stranger's rude embrace.
 
 204 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 " Some, in whose panting hearts the natural void 
 Had never yet been fill'd, all in a glow 
 
 Of dubious hope, their fervid thoughts employed 
 In picturing all they wish'd a moment might bestow. 
 
 LXXI. 
 " Pull in the midst, and taller than the rest, 
 
 Zame'ia stood distinct ; and not a sigh 
 Disturb'd the gem that sparkled on her breast ; 
 
 Her oval cheek was heighten'd to a die, 
 
 " That shamed the mellow vermil of the wreath,* 
 Which in her jetty locks became her well, 
 
 And mingled fragrance with her sweeter breath ; 
 The while her haughty lips more beautifully swell 
 
 " With consciousness of every charm's excess ; 
 
 While with becoming scorn she turn'd her face 
 From every eye that darted its caress, 
 
 As if some god alone might hope for her embrace. 
 
 * This might have been of the pomegranate flower, the bright 
 scarlet of which is very becoming to a dark complexion : it how- 
 ever respires but a faint odour. There is also a species of mimosa, 
 which produces a splendid scarlet flower, much esteemed by the 
 women of those climates where it is found.
 
 ZAMEIA. 205 
 
 LXXII. 
 Soon one, in dress of noble Median, came 
 
 Fresh from repose and from the bath ; and he, 
 Even by less proud and less expectant dame, 
 
 Might well, as then he look'd, be deem'd a deity. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 " The tall Zameia seen from all apart, 
 
 Fix'd his black eye, and, as its glance she caught, 
 The opening lip, the involuntary start, 
 
 Spoke more than words. The stranger saw and sought. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 " And, when the priest restored her to my hands, 
 
 Goddess, in thy propitiated power, 
 Let holy love now close her nuptial bands ! 
 
 So prayed I as we went ; but evil was the hour 
 
 " When from her home I led her ! some fell star, 
 That while the sorcerer culls his herbs malign 
 
 Favours his spell, with secret power afar 
 
 Reign'd o'er that wretched princess' birth and mine. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 " Through all the live-long night no sleep for her; 
 
 She call'd me to her couch at day's first beam ; 
 But not on lord or palace to confer : 
 
 Stranger and festival she would no other theme.
 
 206 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 " I lent her bath of perfume every art ; 
 
 I spread her banquet of the choicest store ; 
 I bade her women touch their lutes apart, 
 
 And told her tales she never heard before. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 " Warbled her birds, her bubbling fountains play'd : 
 But bath and banquet all untouch'd remain ; 
 
 And to her maidens trilling in the shade, 
 She called impatiently to close the strain. 
 
 LXXVII I. 
 
 " And all in her neglected charms she lay; 
 
 Fever was in her veins ; her pulse beat high ; 
 And, on the morning of the second day, 
 
 She said, * Neantes, wilt thou see me die ? ' 
 
 LXXIX. 
 " ' Die ! (so I spoke) Venus forfend such sight !' 
 
 ' Then, if thou wilt not, O, my friend (she said) 
 Go find the lovely Median, ere 'tis night ; 
 
 Nay, dear Neantes, here upon this bed 
 
 " ' Else will I spill my blood. The wall is low 
 Nearest Euphrates, where pomegranates bloom 
 
 Among the orange trees ; nay, wilt not go ? 
 Look upon this ! and who shall tell my doom
 
 ZAME1A. 207 
 
 " ' To Imlec ?' Then that dagger, keen and bright, 
 She drew from 'neath her robe and bade me be 
 
 Content to go and find the Mede ere night. 
 Lord Imlec, this was treachery to thee ! 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 " But well I knew Zame'ia ; was afraid, 
 
 And bow'd me to the earth, and said, ' then be, 
 
 Thou dearest wife of him I serve, obey'd, 
 Though to destruction both of thee and me ! ' 
 
 " She took the ruby from her neck, give this, 
 Tis red, like my life-blood, and he will know, 
 
 (She said, and gave the jewel many a kiss) 
 Upon whose bosom he beheld it glow.' 
 
 " Then as a beggar all in humble guise 
 I sat me on the palace steps, and thence 
 
 Beheld the stranger of the sparkling eyes 
 Late as he came from kingly audience. 
 
 " Then I approach'd and touch'd the broider'd tie 
 That bound his sandal on ; he turn'd and knew 
 
 The crimson token ; took it silently, 
 
 And, quickly mingling with the crowd, withdrew.
 
 208 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 " But when all past and I sat down alone. 
 
 He came again ; but, for he knew his life 
 For slightest wrong to Imlec must atone, 
 
 Against the hope of bliss some doubt and fear made 
 strife. 
 
 LXXXV. 
 " ' Jewels, he said, are dim to her dark eyes 
 
 What precious gift shall match this token dear ?' 
 ' One ringlet of thy black hair she will prize, 
 
 I said, beyond the gems of all Ophir.' (ll)j 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 " Then I depicted how she wept and burn'd 
 And panted on her couch ; nor, haply, more 
 
 Would rise again to life, when I return'd 
 If any poorer gift than love and hope I bore. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 " Great was the meed (I said) the danger small ; 
 
 The moon at midnight down ; nor very high, 
 Beside the river's brink her garden wall ; 
 
 And safe the path from every hand and eye. " 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 " So, ere he could depart, the hour of love 
 
 Was named ; and this, my little Ethiop, hung 
 A curious chain, of silken girdles wove/) 
 Down from the wall where light from bended date he 
 sprung.
 
 209 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 " Holy Euphrates lowly tnurmurming swept (12) 
 As if he moan'd our treachery ; sadlier sang 
 
 The nightingale : her watch Zameia kept 
 
 Until, upon the flowers, some being gently sprang. 
 
 xc. 
 " It was the Mede ; and thrice returning night 
 
 With friendly veil of darkness hid their loves ; 
 But soon again the crescent's silver light 
 
 Must shine upon the deeds of Imlec's weeping groves. 
 
 XCI. 
 
 " A light repast was set forth in a bower ; 
 
 There sat Zamela by her lover's side, 
 With heart of bliss so full, it had not power 
 
 Or space for even a thought of all that might betide. 
 
 XCII. 
 " But Meles said : ' Should I return no more, 
 
 Wouldst thou this love's excess, so dear to me, 
 For white-hair'd Imlec's coming keep in store? 
 
 Or should some other brave the peril scorn'd for thee ? 
 
 xciir. 
 
 " ' Were it not better, if my soul could tear 
 It from thy sight, that Meles went his way 
 
 In peace to seek some other humbler fair ? 
 
 Princess, my life and thine are forfeit if I stay.' 
 
 p
 
 210 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 XCIV. 
 " Zame'ia, paler than the ivory white (13) 
 
 That formed the pillars of her couch, exclaim'd: 
 ' Do I not love thee more than life or light ? 
 
 And have I lived to hear another named ? 
 
 xcv. 
 
 " ' Imlec to thee is nought ! and all in vain 
 
 His love for me : 'tis Meles I adore. 
 If danger come, be mine the care and pain ! 
 
 Another ! let me die or hear that word no more.' 
 
 XCVI. 
 " ' My own, my bright Zameia's truth,' he said, 
 
 ' 'Twas spoken but to prove ;' and then he smiled, 
 And her, all trembling, to the banquet led ; 
 
 And love and hope are twins ; and so she was beguiled. 
 
 XCVII. 
 " Another midnight saw them as before ; 
 
 With banquet spread and wine the lip to woo ; 
 Zame'ia, 'neath her robe's adornment, wore 
 
 A steel half hid in gems; he saw it sparkle through. 
 
 XCVIII. 
 " But well he knew (with all the tenderness 
 
 Meet for a heart whose fires so fiercely burn) 
 To hush her doubts. With many a false caress 
 
 He went, and many an oath and promise of return.
 
 211 
 
 XCIX. 
 " The bower is lit; the banquet waits; and wake 
 
 Love's votaress and her trembling slave ; but where 
 The lover wont to come and scarce partake 
 
 E'en of the grape's sweet blood for gazing on his fair i" 
 
 " Lone past the night. My beauteous mistress faints 
 Upon her couch ; or fills the frighted ears 
 
 Of every slave with passionate complaints ; 
 
 For, darkly to her soul her boding fate appears. 
 
 C. 
 
 " Another midnight still he had not come 
 
 And thus she me reproach'd : ' All had been bliss, 
 
 Neantes, but for thee. Is this my doom ? 
 And was I made an offering but for this ? ' 
 
 CI. 
 " Alas ! I answered, I am but a slave, 
 
 Princess, and thine : destroy me if thou wilt. 
 Shall I go look for him the goddess gave ? 
 
 Or for thy pleasure shall my blood be spilt. 
 
 CII. 
 " The frailest hope is better than despair, 
 
 And many a life a timely word has saved. 
 She bade me to the palace ; but not there 
 
 To find her Median more : the stream that laved
 
 212 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 " The garden where they met, at early morn, 
 To his own land had seen him on his way ; 
 
 Nor word nor token left he, to be borne 
 
 To her who, for his sake, sicken'd at light of day, 
 
 cm. 
 
 " But that it had been death to tell her then : 
 What means to save, alas, could I employ? 
 
 That moment came beneath a column's shade, 
 To rest him there awhile, a dusky Arab boy. 
 
 CIV. 
 " Quick came the thought : I gave him gold and craved 
 
 A cluster of his locks; he gave me one; 
 And black as earth-hid ebony it waved 
 
 Like those of Meles, thanks to thee,' O sun ! 
 
 CV. 
 " In childhood, once, slave to a scribe, I sought 
 
 To trace the character and shape the reed ; 
 And sometimes when my lord beheld, he taught 
 
 A little of his art, and now it served my need. 
 
 CVI. 
 " The choicest of the Arab's locks I dipt, 
 
 And framed a letter as from Meles' hand ; 
 Then, a black ringlet first in perfumes dipt, 
 
 Laid in the midst : nor words more sweet and bland
 
 213 
 
 " Could Meles of the honey'd lip indite ; 
 
 'Twas written on papyrus of the Nile, 
 Fragrant with rose ; as opening lotos white ; 
 
 And gold and silver dust in sprinkles o'er it smile. (14) 
 
 " ' Neath the pomegranates in the orange shade, 
 Where linger'd last the Median ; (such my plan) 
 
 Among the falling blossoms it was laid 
 
 In secret, ere I came ; and thus, in promise, ran. 
 
 cviir. 
 " ' Radiant Zameia, think upon the pain 
 
 I bear in telling thee, how many a night 
 Must pass, ere back to Babylon again 
 
 I come to yield my life to thy delight. 
 
 " My soul is sick with absence ! while the will 
 Of an unpitying sov'reign bids me wait. 
 
 Preserve a little of love's balm to heal 
 
 Thy Meles, who returns at gathering of the date. 
 
 CIX. 
 
 " So, when among the flowers the scrolls was flung, 
 Sadly I came at having found him not ; 
 
 And near that wall where silken chain was hung, 
 I drew Zaineia. On the very spot,
 
 214 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 " Where her loved Meles spoke his last farewell, 
 That princess kissed a camel-driver's hair, 
 
 And tears of joy (ah ! too fallacious !) fell 
 
 On what a slave's poor hand had placed in pity there. 
 
 ex. 
 
 " Yet, though 'twas sad to see her so deceived, 
 
 I could but bless the tears her cheek was drinking ; 
 For pity framed the falsehood hope believed, 
 
 And so by this slight reed her soul was saved from 
 sinking. 
 
 CXI. 
 " The gathering of the sweet and savoury date 
 
 Approach'd, and Imlec still was far away- 
 Zame'ia learn'd to wait, and hope, and wait, 
 
 And bless'd the powerful Belus for his stay, 
 
 CXII. 
 
 " But as the date-tree sees her blossoms die, (15) 
 And blasted on the earth her fruit's soft germ, 
 
 Unless her vegetable love come nigh, 
 With genial power, while yet endures her term ; 
 
 " So poor Zameia's hopes, like date-buds, down 
 Must fall to earth unblest and immature : 
 
 Alas ! unless her Meles come to crown 
 
 W T ith fruit, hope's blossoms cannot long endure !
 
 ZAMBIA. 215 
 
 CXIV. 
 
 " The date was ripe and pluck'd ; but still there came 
 No beauteous Mede. Zameia raged and pined, 
 
 And pined and hoped and wept ; what could I frame? 
 With what new bland deceit bedew her withering mind. 
 
 cxv. 
 
 " Night after night, she waked and waked ; consumed 
 
 Her full round arms ; no tulip hue upon 
 Her sunny cheek in changeful beauty bloom'd ; 
 
 She felt a dearth, a blight, and all was cold and wan. 
 
 " I trembled for her life ; and on a day 
 
 When, 'neath the full pomegranates walk she must 
 Among the flowers, another letter lay ; 
 
 And thus it flow'd as kindly as the first. 
 
 CXVI. 
 
 " ' Adored Zameia ! if thou still dost bear 
 Enough of love to feel a moment's pain 
 
 That Meles, still detain'd by toil and care, 
 Comes not to thee and Babylon again, 
 
 " ' Though dates be pluck'd, I prithee wait a span, 
 For when rich spices from Arabia's hills 
 
 Load for thy happy streets the caravan, 
 
 I come to keep the word my panting soul fulfils.'
 
 216 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 CXVII. 
 " I need not tell who placed the letter there ; 
 
 And though her reason made some little strife, 
 By sending doubt 'gainst hope, yet from despair 
 
 Awhile her heart emerged ; and so was saved her life. 
 
 CXVIII. 
 " Again she bathed her limbs, and eat her food, 
 
 And bound her streaming hair, and clasped her zone. 
 Like the wild courser, by his wants subdued, 
 
 So stoop'd her soul to feed on this poor hope alone. 
 
 CXIX. 
 
 " The Median had but lightly loved j while she 
 Inhaled a flame that never ceased to prey 
 
 Upon her victim heart ; she ceased to be, 
 And, sever'd from herself, became, that day, 
 
 " Appendage to another. Not the string 
 
 Of Meles' sandal, scarf about his waist, 
 Or feather for his arrows, was a thing 
 
 More wholly his than she, so proud ere love de- 
 based ! (16) 
 
 cxx. 
 
 " Euphrates' floods are swoln with timely rain ; 
 
 Cassia and myrrh perfume the crowded streets ; 
 The burthen from the camel's back is ta'en ; 
 
 But Meles' footsteps press no flower in our retreats.
 
 ZAMBIA. 217 
 
 CXXI. 
 
 " Most wretched princess ! who her state can show ? 
 
 Panting with haste a messenger arrives 
 To tell (Oh ! full completion of her woe !) 
 
 That Imlec's on his way, and bids prepare his wives. 
 
 CXXI I. 
 
 " ' Hide me,' she said, ' in some dark desert cave! 
 
 Till I can look a moment on my love ! 
 Cast me, Neantes, to Euphrates' wave 
 
 Ere Imlec come ! Oh, Venus ! can I prove 
 
 " ' For Meles' ardour, frenzy of the grape, 
 The poppy's fetid juice for Meles' breath ? 
 
 Save me, Neantes, aid me to escape ! 
 If Imlec clasp at all, he clasps me cold in death.' " 
 
 CXXI 1 1. 
 
 " Her forceful words were true : her pale, pale cheek 
 And tearless eye too strong concurrence gave ; 
 
 And o'erwrought passion left her form so weak, 
 But little more had laid it in the grave. 
 
 cxxiv. 
 " A curious cincture by her mother wrought, 
 
 Twined with a tress of her black hair was thrown 
 To the full stream, to baffle those who sought : 
 
 But by no vestige might our course be known.
 
 218 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 CXXV. 
 
 " Enough to tell, upon a fearful night, 
 By the same silken chain that Meles prest, 
 
 The garden wall was scaled : our piteous plight, 
 This place, O stranger ! must declare the rest. 
 
 Cuba. Pueblo Nuevo, September 1829.
 
 NOTES 
 
 CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 (1) '7V there thou bidst a deeper ardour &>." 
 IT has been generally believed that the cold in clime are cold in 
 blood,' but this on examination would, I am convinced, be found 
 physically untrue ; at least, in those climates near the equator. 
 It is here that most cold-blooded animals, such as the tortoise, the 
 serpent, and various tribes of beautiful insects, are found in the 
 greatest perfection. 
 
 Fewer instances of delirium or suicide, occasioned by the passion 
 of love, would, perhaps, be found within the tropics than in the 
 other divisions of the earth. Nature, in the colder regions, appears 
 to have given an innate warmth and energy proportionate to those 
 efforts, which the severity of the elements and the numerous wants 
 which they create, keep continually in demand. 
 
 Those who live, as it were, under the immediate protection of 
 the sun, have little need of internal fires. Their blood is cool and 
 thin ; and living where everything is soft and flattering to the 
 senses, it is not surprising that their thoughts seldom wander far 
 beyond what their bright eyes can look upon. 
 
 Though sometimes subject to violent fits of jealousy, these 
 generally pass off without leaving much regret or nnhappiness 
 behind, and any other object falling in their way (for they would 
 not go far to seek it) would very soon become just as valuable to 
 them as the one lost. Such of them as are constant are rather so
 
 220 NOTES TO CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 from indolence, than from any depth of sentiment or conviction of 
 excellence. " The man who reflects (says Rousseau) is a monster 
 out of the order of nature." The natives of all tropical regions 
 might be brought forward in proof of his assertion : they never 
 look at remote results, or enter into refined speculations ; and yet, 
 are, undoubtedly, less unhappy than any other of the inhabitants of 
 earth. 
 
 (2) " Excess of soid through, the material blast." 
 I have never observed this effect except in very few instances, 
 and those were of persons neither brilliant for their attainments 
 nor (with one exception) remarkable for external beauty. They 
 were, however, possessed of most excellent dispositions, and it was 
 impossible to converse with them without being sensible of some- 
 thing which could be felt and almost seen a sort of emanation. 
 
 (3) " A warmth a mystic charm seemed breathing through 
 
 Each viewless pore, and circling him without." 
 This is but a copy from the life ; and the original of it was so 
 uneducated as to be scarcely tolerable ; he had made, however, the 
 most generous sacrifices for his friends and relatives ; and it was 
 impossible to be near and look at him, while speaking, without 
 perceiving all attempted to be described in the text. 
 
 (4) " Cast me to the flames, and save me from the thought ! " 
 
 Human victims were sometimes thrown into fires burning in 
 
 honour of the god Baal. It appears from some passages in the 
 Mosaic writings that the same custom prevailed even among the 
 Hebrews. 
 
 (5) Forsake 
 
 AU other gods for love's idolatry." 
 
 It appears that the Hebrews were not averse to intermarrying 
 with those of other nations, provided such would embrace their
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE FIFTH. 221 
 
 religion. " Pharaoh's daughter became, it is supposed, a proselyte ; 
 a marriage with her was not, therefore, considered a fault in their 
 wise but voluptuous king. See notes to Joaephus. 
 
 (6) " Are thrown to bear you to some floating t'sfe." 
 For an account of those flowery islets which once floated about 
 the Mississipi, from whose mud and vegetation they were formed, 
 one has only to look at the beginning of Atala. There M. de 
 Chateaubriand has given a description surpassed only by the exqui- 
 site story which follows. 
 
 The Mexicans, before the conquest of their city by Cortez, were 
 accustomed to sail about its lakes on floating islets ; these, how. 
 ever, must have been constructed by art. 
 
 (7) " He rears his white-ringed neck, and watches you from far" 
 
 The ring-necked serpent is still sometimes seen in North Ame- 
 rica ; it is of a shining black, with a white circle about its neck, as 
 exact as if drawn with a pencil. From the extreme swiftness of its 
 movement, it received from the English settlers the name of horse- 
 racer. It lifts its head, from time to time, above the grass, through 
 which it glides, and is said to have the power of destroying even 
 men, by twining itself about them. If death, however, has ever 
 happened from that cause, the cases of it must have been very 
 unfrequent. I saw, when a child, a very young snakelet of this 
 kind, which had been found in a cellar, and was kept in spirits of 
 wine by the woman of the house ; it was of the length of a common 
 pen, and very smooth and delicate. 
 
 (8) That from the City of the Dove ye came." 
 The dove was, in ancient times, the device of the Assyrian em- 
 pire, as the eagle was that of the Roman ; and was adopted from a 
 belief that the Indian god, Maha-deva, and his goddess, Parvate, 
 once assumed the appearance of doves, in order to benefit the 
 inhabitants.
 
 222 NOTES TO CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 The worship of the dove was peculiar to India, Arabia, Syria, 
 and Assyria. Semiramis, the Queen and beautifier of Babylon, is 
 said to have been fed by doves in the desert, and to have vanished 
 at last from the sight of mortals in the shape of a dove. 
 
 Semiramis was supposed to have been an incarnation of Parvate, 
 consort of Maha-deva, or Nature, which goddess was called Sami- 
 rama, from a circumstance (related in one of the Puranas) of her 
 having chosen to reside in a Sami-tree, whither she had fled from 
 the god, her husband, in a fit of jealousy. 
 
 It is from the Sami-tree that the Indians cut the Arani, a cubic 
 piece of wood, from which they obtain fire by drawing a cord 
 through a perforation in the centre. 
 
 According to the fable, a fire issued from Sami-rama while per- 
 forming austere devotion, which spread over the whole range of 
 mountains near her retirement. This fire she confined to the Sami- 
 tree, in pity to the neighbouring people. 
 
 The Arani is still called by the Indians the " daughter of the 
 Sami-tree and mother of fire." 
 
 See an extract from the Hindu Sacred Books, contained in 
 the Asiatic Researches. 
 
 (9) Divine Mylitta ! child of light, and that 
 
 Which from dark nothing formed the teeming earth." 
 The earnest and apparently pure adoration of Neantes for this 
 goddess may proceed from some glimpses of Oriental and Grecian 
 cosmogony caught from the scribe, his former master. One of th 
 Venuses is said to have been the daughter of Coelus and Light. 
 This personification of the soul or active principle of creation, 
 by a form of perfect beauty, was an idea sublime, perhaps, as 
 delightful ; but, like everything else of excessive refinement, was 
 incapable of being generally understood in the manner first de- 
 signed ; and soon became perverted to the sanction of a pernicious 
 licentiousness. The following is extracted from Enfield's ' Com- 
 pendium of Brucker ' :
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE FIFTH. 223 
 
 " There were different opinions among the ancients concerning 
 the first cause of nature. Some might, possibly, ascribe the origin 
 of all things to a generating force, destitute of thought, which they 
 conceived to be inherent in matter, without looking to any higher 
 principle. But it is probable that the general opinion among them 
 was that which had prevailed among the Egyptians and in the 
 East, and was communicated by traditions to the Greeks that 
 matter or chaos existed eternally with God ; that by the divine 
 energy of emanation material forms went forth from him, and the 
 visible world arose into existence. This principle being admitted, 
 a satisfactory explanation may be given of most of the Grecian 
 fables. Upon this supposition, their doctrines of the Creation, 
 divested of all allegory and fable, will be as follows : the first 
 matter, containing the seeds of all future beings, existed from eter- 
 nity with God. At length the divine energy, acting upon matter, 
 produced a motion among its parts, by which those of the same 
 kind were brought together, and those of a different kind separated ; 
 and by which, according to certain wise laws, the various forms of 
 the material world were produced. The same energy of emanation 
 gave existence to animals and men, and to Gods who inhabit the, 
 heavenly bodies and various other parts of nature. Among men, 
 those who possess a larger portion of the divine nature than others, 
 are hereby impelled to great and beneficent actions, and afford 
 illustrious proofs of their divine original, on account of which they 
 are, after death, raised to a place among the gods, and so become 
 objects of religious worship." * 
 
 (10) A fairer scene warm Syria never shall 
 
 Behold," 
 
 Of the festivals given in honour of Mylitta, Herodotus has given 
 an account ; and a very full and amusing one is to be found in 
 
 This is perfectly in accordance with the Christian belief, that the placet left 
 vacant by the fallen angels are to be supplied by human souls ; and some of the 
 fathers suppose that such secrets could only have been communicated to th 
 beathen by means of angels.
 
 224 NOTES TO CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 " Les Voyages d'Antenor." No blood flowed upon the altars of 
 this goddess ; roses, apple-blossoms, fruits, incense, and perfumes, 
 were thought more acceptable offerings. Mylitta is but one of the 
 names of Venus. 
 
 (11) Thegems of all Ophir." 
 
 Ophir, or Aurea Chersonesus. This pronunciation of the word 
 is agreeable to the accent of all modern Oriental languages, which, 
 as they are generally founded on the Hebraic, are, of course, more 
 conformable to the ancient sweetness of a language supposed to 
 have been that of angels and spirits, than those harsh sounds to 
 which it is now perverted by English and North American 
 Theologists. The present Spanish pronunciation of scriptural 
 names is very soft and delightful. 
 
 The language in which the Koran is written, and which is 
 universally studied and spoken by learned Mahometans, is said to 
 be a dialect of the Hebrew. The guttural sounds of the modern 
 Castilian have probably been remotely derived from the same 
 source. 
 
 (12) " Holy Euphrates lowly murmuring swept." 
 Rivers were in general held sacred by the nations of antiquity, 
 
 and to wash the hands, spit, or throw anything of an impure 
 nature into the Euphrates, was punished by the Babylonians as an 
 act of the greatest impiety. Peleus vowed to make an offering of 
 the hair of Achilles to the stream Sperchius, in case he returned 
 victor from Troy. 
 
 (13) "Zame'ia, paler than the ivory white 
 
 That formed the pillars of her couch." 
 
 Ivory, it is said, was not much heard of till the reign of Solo- 
 mon, who caused it to be brought from India to Palestine, where 
 it was considered more precious than gold ; but, afterwards, ivory 
 beds and ivory palaces are frequently mentioned. The'beautiful 
 statue carved by Pvgmalion of Cyprus, is said to have been of
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE FIFTH. 225 
 
 ivory; marble, however, when white and pure, was, it appears, 
 also called ivory. 
 
 (14) "'Twos written on papyrus of the Nile, 
 
 Fragrant with, rose ; as opening lotos white, 
 And gold and silver dust in sprinkles o'er it smile." 
 
 This might have been : the Greeks, however, at a later period, 
 wrote their letters on thin smooth tablets of wood, neatly covered 
 with wax ; these were wrapped in linen, and sealed with the wax 
 of Asia. 
 
 According to Sir William Jones and others, the manuscripts of 
 the modern Persians are sprinkled with dust of gold and silver. 
 These, as well as those of the Arabians, are so very beautiful that 
 those accustomed to them dislike to look on printed copies. 
 
 As there are many lovers of poetry who are not profound scholars, 
 the following extract from an entertaining work may not be un- 
 acceptable : 
 
 " Les tablettes des Grecs etaient des tables de bois, et enduites 
 de cire : on y ecrivait avec un petit stylet de cuivre, de fer, ou 
 d'or, pointu d'un cote et plat de 1'autre ; ce dernier bout servait a 
 effacer. Les Grecs portaient a la ceinture un etui nomme graph i- 
 arium ou etaient renferm^s ce stylet et ces tablettes. 
 
 " Les lettres que les particuliers s'ecrivaient etaient sur des 
 tables de bois mince, deliees, et enduites de cire, que Ton en- 
 veloppait de lin, et que Ton cachetait de craie, ou de cire d'Asie. 
 A latete deleurs lettres ils mettaient, ces mots 'Joie et prosperite :' 
 a leur fin cette autre formale ' Portez vous bien, soyez heurenx.* 
 Les Atheniens mettaient, apres leurs noms, dans leur signature, 
 celui de leurs peres, et les pays de leur naissanee ; par example : 
 ' Demosthene de Peanee fils deDemosthene.' " Voyagesd'Antenor. 
 
 (15) " But as the date tree sees her blossoms die." 
 The palm tree is said, by a learned writer, to be " the most 
 curious and interesting subject which the science of natural history 
 
 a
 
 226 NOTES TO CANTO THE FIFTH. 
 
 involves." However that may be, the most eminent naturalist-. 
 ancient and modern, have apparently taken pleasure in describing 
 ft. A very full and satisfactory account of this surprising vegetable 
 is to be found in the < Amoenitates Exoticae ' of Kaempfer. 
 
 (16) . Not the string 
 
 Of Metes' sandal scarf about his waist 
 Or feather for his arrows tea* a thing 
 
 More wholly his than she." 
 
 The old Neanthes appears to suppose this destructive passion to 
 be no fault of his mistress ; but thinks her inspired with it by their 
 goddess, as a punishment for former neglect. Racine, in his tra- 
 gedy of Phedre, extenuates the crimes of that Queen by a similar 
 supposition.
 
 CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
 BRIDAL OF HELON.
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Twilight. Egla alone in her grove of acacias. Zophiel returns 
 wounded and dejected, and sits watching her invisibly. A being, 
 who wishes to preserve Egla, perceives that she is beset with 
 dangers. Zameia dies in attempting the life of Egla. Egla i 
 reproached by a slave : faints and is supported by Helon ; Helon 
 and Hariph bear her home. Egla, about to destroy herself, is saved 
 by Helon, who receives her in marriage, and puts Zophiel to flight, 
 by means of a caraeol box. Hariph discovers himself to be the 
 angel Raphael ; seeks Zophiel in the deserts of Ethiopia, and speaks 
 to him of hope and comfort.
 
 CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
 BRIDAL OF HELON. 
 
 SWEET is the evening twilight ; but, alas ! 
 
 There's sadness in it : day's light tasks are done, 
 And leisure sighs to think how soon must pass 
 
 Those tints that melt o'er heaven, O setting sun, 
 
 And look like heaven dissolved. A tender flush 
 
 Of blended rose and purple light, o'er all 
 The luscious landscape spreads, like pleasure's blush, 
 
 And glows o'er wave, sky, flower, cottage, and palm- 
 tree tall. 
 
 II. 
 'Tis now that solitude has most of pain : 
 
 Vague apprehensions of approaching night 
 Whisper the soul, attuned to bliss, and fain 
 
 To find in love equivalent for light.
 
 230 CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
 The bard has sung, God never formed a soul 
 Without its own peculiar mate, to meet (1) 
 
 Its wandering half, when ripe to crown the whole 
 Bright plan of bliss, most heavenly, most complete ! 
 
 IV. 
 But thousand evil things there are that hate 
 
 To look on happiness ; these hurt, impede, 
 And leagued with time, space, circumstance, and fate, 
 
 Keepkindred heart from heart to pine and pantancl bleed. 
 
 And as the dove to far Palmyra flying 
 
 From where her native founts of Antioch beam, 
 
 Weary, exhausted, longing, panting, sighing, 
 Lights sadly at the desert's bitter stream, 
 
 So many a soul o'er life's drear desert faring, 
 Love's pure congenial spring unfbund unquaff'd 
 
 Suffers recoils then, thirsty and despairing 
 
 Of what it would, descends and sips the nearest draught. 
 
 'Tis twilight in fair Egla's grove, her eye 
 Is sad and wistful ; while the hues that glint 
 
 In soft profusion o'er the molten sky, 
 
 O'er all her beauty spread a mellower tint.
 
 BRIDAL OF HELON. 
 
 And form'd, in every fibre, for such love 
 
 As heaven not yet had given her to share, (2) 
 
 Through the deep shadowy vistas of her grove 
 Sent looks of wistfulness ; no Spirit there 
 
 Appears as wont ; for many a month so long 
 He had not left her ; what could so detain ? 
 
 She took her lute and tuned it for a song, 
 
 The while spontaneous words accord them to a strain, 
 
 Taught by enamoured Zophiel ; softly heaving 
 The while her heart, thus from its inmost core 
 
 Such feelings gush'd, to Lydian numbers weaving, 
 As never had her lip express'd before. 
 
 VII. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Day, in melting purple dying, 
 Blossoms, all around me sighing, 
 Fragrance, from the lilies straying, 
 Zephyr, with my ringlets playing, 
 
 Ye but waken my distress ; 
 
 I am sick of loneliness.
 
 232 CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
 Thou to whom I love to hearken, 
 Come, ere night around me darken ; 
 Though thy softness but deceive me, 
 Say thou'rt true and I'll believe thee ; 
 Veil, if ill, thy soul's intent, 
 Let me think it innocent ! 
 
 Save thy toiling, spare thy treasure : 
 All I ask is friendship's pleasure : 
 Let the shining ore lie darkling, 
 Bring no gem in lustre sparkling ; 
 
 Gifts and gold are nought to me : 
 I would only look on thee ! 
 
 Tell to thee the high-wrought feeling, 
 
 Ecstacy but in revealing ; 
 
 Paint to thee the deep sensation, 
 
 Rapture in participation, 
 
 Yet but torture, if comprest 
 In a lone unfriended breast. 
 
 Absent still ? Ah ! come and bless me ! 
 
 Let these eyes again caress thee ; 
 
 Once, in caution, I could fly thee ; 
 
 Now, I nothing could deny thee: 
 
 In a look if death there be, 
 Come and I will gaze on tbee !
 
 BRIDAL OF HELON. 233 
 
 VIII. 
 An unknown spirit, who for many a year 
 
 Had mark'd, in Helon, passing excellence, 
 And loved to watch o'er Egla too, came near 
 
 This eve ; but other cares had long time kept him hence. 
 
 IX. 
 
 A lute-chord sounds : hark ! for a tender hymn 
 To bear to heaven, he pauses in his flight ; 
 
 Alas ! it is not heaven that lends her theme ! 
 Nay, if he leave her she is lost to night. 
 
 X. 
 
 He starts ; he looks through the light trembling shade 
 And fears his coming, even now, too late : 
 
 What varied perils have beset the maid ! 
 She verges to the crisis of her fate. 
 
 He gazes on her guileless face and grieves ; 
 
 There's treachery even in her own lute's sound ; 
 And things his heavenly sense alone perceives, 
 
 Unseen amidst the flowers are lurking all around. 
 
 XII. 
 And Zophiel too, late from the deep return'd 
 
 In such a state 'twas piteous but to see, 
 Watch'd near the maid whose love he fain had earn'd, 
 
 By fiercer torments still, invisibly.
 
 234 CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 His wings were folded o'er his eyes ; severe 
 
 As was the pain he'd borne from wave and wind, 
 
 The dubious warning of that Being drear, 
 Who met him in the lightning, to his mind 
 
 Was torture worse : a dark presentiment 
 Came o'er his soul with paralyzing chill, 
 
 As when fate vaguely whispers her intent 
 
 To poison mortal joy with sense of pending ill. 
 
 He search'd about the grove with all the care 
 Of trembling jealousy, as if to trace 
 
 By track or wounded flower some rival there ; 
 And scarcely dared to look upon the face 
 
 Of her he loved, lest it some tale might tell 
 To make the only hope that sooth'd him vain 
 
 He hears her notes in numbers die and swell, 
 But almost fears to listen to the strain 
 
 Himself had taught her; lest some hated name 
 Had been with that dear, gentle air enwreathed, 
 
 While he was far; she sigh'd, he nearer came ; 
 Oh, transport ! Zophiel was the name she breathed.
 
 BRIDAL OF HELON. 23o 
 
 XV. 
 
 He saw but her ; and thought her all alone ; 
 His name was on her lip, in hour like this ; 
 
 And dealing drinking every look and tone 
 Paused, ere he would advance, for very bliss. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 The joy of a whole mortal life he felt 
 In that one moment. Now, too long unseen, 
 
 He fain had shown his beauteous form and knelt, 
 But, while he still delayed, a mortal rushed between. 
 
 Tall was her form ; her quivering lip was pale ; 
 
 Long streamed her hair, and glared her wild dark eye ; 
 And grasping Egla's arm : ' no arts avail 
 
 Thee now : vile murderess of my Meles, die !' 
 
 She said ; her dagger at soft Egla's breast 
 Touch'd the white folded robe but strength and breath 
 
 Failing at once, that frenzied arm arrest 
 
 And falling to the earth, Zamei'a groaned in death. 
 
 This Orpha saw, a slave, a sullen maid, 
 
 But beautiful, whose glance Rosanes caught, 
 
 While yet the captives at the palace stayed, 
 And, secretly carest, until he taught
 
 CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
 The haughty girl, impatient of her fate, 
 
 A hope that gave her, in her lowliness, 
 The wild ambition of a higher state ; 
 
 But who can paint the depth of her distress, 
 
 When he had gone to seek the dangerous bride ; 
 
 And when the following morn his death reveal'd ? 
 Hate, envy, love, sorrow, hopes crush'd all vied 
 
 To nurture the revenge her withering heart conceal'd. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 'Twas she who told Zamei'a of the doom 
 
 Of her loved Mede, and led her to the breast 
 
 She burn'd to pierce ; now from her heart of gloom 
 Burst the deep smouldering rage, thus bitterly express'd : 
 
 XX. 
 
 " Another murder ! sorceress to me 
 
 Tell not a spirit did it : I know, well, 
 What wanton thing thou art ; was't not by thee, 
 
 Rosanes, Meles, young Altheetor fell ? 
 
 " Lured by thine arts to glut a love as dread 
 
 As that fell queen's,* who every morning spilt 
 The separate life that warm'd her nightly bed; 
 
 Closing, with death's cold seal, lips that might tell her 
 guilt." 
 
 * Semiramis.
 
 BRIDAL OF HELON. 237 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Then came Neantes, knelt, and bathed with tears, 
 The lost Zameia's form ; 'twas dim and cold, 
 
 But the strong cast of beauty still appears, 
 
 Though o'er her brow the last chill dews had roll'd. 
 
 And, as he held the taper hand in his 
 
 Of his loved mistress (with a piteous look 
 
 On Egla cast), his sole reproach was this : 
 
 Half check'd by rising sobs that burst forth as he spoke 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 " Oh ! warm with health and beauty as Uiou art 
 Couldst thou have seen her as I have, then reft 
 
 Of all ; and known the torments of her heart, 
 Thou hadst not ta'en what little life was left." 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 The attempted deed ; the scene ; the bitter word ; 
 Like knot of serpents, each with separate sting, 
 
 Pierced, each and all, more keenly than a sword, 
 Through Egla's heart that bled while answering : 
 
 " Cease ! cease ! I kill'd her not ! nor knew such one 
 There lived on earth. Alas ! her purpose rough, 
 
 Would to high heaven, ere she had died, were done ! 
 Oh ! power that forra'd me, was it not enough
 
 238 CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
 " To bear perpetual solitude and gloom ? 
 Must I too live a theme of foul reproach 
 
 To stanger and to slave ! the tomb, the tomb, 
 Is all I ask oh ! do I ask too much ?" 
 
 XXV. 
 
 She said and swoon'd : so Helen, not in vain, 
 
 Search'd wandering for his guide (he knew not whither), 
 
 To lead him to the gates of Ecbatane ; 
 
 And haply, though unseen, his guide had led him hither. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 He saw Zamei'a on the earth laid low ; 
 
 And Egla faint, but fresh in all her charms, 
 Had sunk beside the corse for weight of woe, 
 
 But for the timely aid of his receiving arms. 
 
 The groupe the dead the form his arms sustain 
 The trembling leaves the twilight's fading gleam 
 
 Confuse ; the youth distrusts both eye and brain, 
 For, 'gainst his heart, he sees the image of his dream. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 But faithful Hariph soon was at his side, 
 
 In search of whom had Helon chanced to roam ; 
 " Ask nothing, youth, but haste with me;" he cried, 
 
 " Life has not left the maiden : bear her home."
 
 BRIDAL OF HELON. 
 
 They laid her on her couch ; and in her sire 
 
 Found him they sought, and in her dwelling stayed. 
 
 Sephora sat her by the perfume fire, 
 
 All night, and watch'd her child ; yet sore afraid 
 
 Of her enamoured Spirit ; well she knew 
 The presence of a mortal vex'd his will, 
 
 And mused on Helen's youth ; and could but view, 
 In thought, another scene of death and ill. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Egla lay drown'd in grief, and could not speak, 
 But calm'd at morn the tumult of her breast, 
 
 And kiss'd her mother thrice ; then bade her seek, 
 And warn, and save from death, the stranger guest. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 And through her window when the deepening glows 
 
 Of pensive twilight told another day 
 Was spent, to bathe that fatal form, she rose, 
 
 Bound cincture o'er her robe, and sent her maids away. 
 
 Alone she thought how Helon had sustain'd 
 
 And saved, for his own doom, her fatal breath; 
 
 Zamei'a Orpha too why still remain'd 
 Her own scorn'd life the cause of so much death ?
 
 240 CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 She could not pray ; and to her aching eye 
 
 Would come no sweet relief, no wonted tear ; 
 For one of those dark things that lurk'd, was by, 
 
 And whispered thoughts of horror in her ear. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Then on his sad unguarded victim fix'd ; 
 
 And coldly, to her wounded bosom's core, 
 Infused him like some fell disease, and mix'd 
 
 His being with her blood ; all hope was o'er 
 
 All fear all nature all was bitterness ; 
 
 She felt her heart within her like a clod ; 
 And when, at length, the sullen deep distress 
 
 Found utterance, thus she spoke ungrateful to her God. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 " Was but my infant life for tortures worse 
 
 Than flame or sword preserved ? on me on me 
 
 Falls the whole burthen of my nation's curse ? 
 Of all offence I bear the misery. 
 
 XXXVI . 
 
 " Oh ! power that made, thou'st been profuse of pain 
 And I have borne but now is past the hour ; 
 
 1 ask no mitigation that were vain : 
 Wreak, wreak on me thy whole avenging power !
 
 BRIDAL OF MELON. 241 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 " Yet, wherefore more the doom I wish delay ? 
 
 Dissolve me ! oh ! as earth I was before, 
 Change this fair-coloured form to silent grey, 
 
 And let my weary organs feel no more." 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 She paused " 'Tis written thus: ' Thou shall not kill.' 
 
 Yet deeper were the crime to keep a life 
 Torture to me, to others death and ill ; 
 
 So in thy presence, God, I end my nature's strife !" 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 Then from her waist she took the girdle blue, 
 
 Look'd on the world without, but breathed no sigh ; 
 Then calmly o'er the window's carving threw 
 
 That scarf, and round her neck wound thrice the silken 
 tie. 
 
 XL. 
 Where, in that hour, was Zophiel ? All in vain 
 
 He burns with love and jealous rage impell'd : 
 With the dark Being of the storm again 
 
 He strives and struggles in the grove, withheld 
 
 From her he loves. He'd seen her borne away, 
 Even before his eyes ; and now, perforce, 
 
 Could only look where, newly-murdered, Iny 
 The lost Zamei'a's pale and breathless corse. 
 
 R
 
 242 CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Whichever spirit conquers in the strife, 
 Alas for Egla ! now her hands entwine 
 
 The guilty knot she springs. " Hold, hold ! thy life, 
 Maiden, is not thine own, but God's and mine! " 
 
 XLII. 
 
 'Twas Helen's voice ; but still the legate fiend, 
 Reluctant to resign her, would not part ; 
 
 But by his secret, subtle nature screen'd, 
 
 Even from Spirits, through her brain and heart 
 
 Darted like pain. The youth, with firm embrace, 
 
 Holds and protects ; but, writhing, vex'd, and thrown, 
 
 She could not even look upon his face, 
 And answer'd all he said but with a moan. 
 
 XL1II. 
 Helon bent o'er and murmur'd, " Calm those fears : 
 
 To be my bride already art thou given ! 
 And I am he who, in thy childish years, 
 
 Was in thy grove announced to thee by heaven." 
 
 XLIV. 
 She seem'd to listen : soon her moans were hush'dj 
 
 She caught his words thus suffering and possest ; 
 From her torn heart a grateful torrent gush'd, 
 
 And love expelled the Demon from her breast.
 
 BRIDAL OF MELON. 24:$ 
 
 XLV. 
 Still Ilelon held, and sooth'd, and timely drew 
 
 Near to the vase of perfumes nightly burning, 
 And, from his open box of carneol, threw 
 
 All it contain'd. 'Twas well : Zophiel returning 
 
 That moment 'scaped from him whose malice held, 
 Rush'd fiercely anxious to a scene of love 
 
 Approved by heaven oh ! torture ! he beheld 
 A stranger's arms entwine ! Eager to prove 
 
 That power to mortal rival late so fell : 
 Enough had been a moment for his ire ; 
 
 But a strange force he vainly strove to quell, 
 Insufferable, from the perfume fire, 
 
 Rush'd forth, resistless as his maker's breath : 
 And when he fain would place him by the bed 
 
 Which, but to touch, had been gay Meles' death, 
 He felt him hurl'd away, uttered a shriek, and fled. 
 
 XLVI. 
 But Ilelon lives, supporting still the maid 
 
 O'crwhelmed with hopes and fears, and all o'erspent 
 With recent pain ; " Didst hear that shriek ?" he said, 
 
 " The Sprite has left us : kneel with me I" They knelt
 
 244 CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
 Them both to earth, the bridegroom and his bride, 
 So fill'd with present joy, the past was dim ; 
 
 'Twas rapture now, whatever might betide, 
 
 And pain to her were bliss, so it were shared with him, 
 
 LXVII. 
 Then prayed he : " Heaven, if either have offended 
 
 Punish us now ! avenge ! but with one breath 
 Let our so-late-united lives be ended I 
 
 Let her be mine and give me life or death!" 
 
 XLVIII. 
 Then she : " If now I die, I die his wife, 
 
 And fully blest, O heaven ! await my doom ! 
 Nor would exchange for thousand rears of life 
 
 The dearer privilege to share his tomb. 
 
 XLIX. 
 " Yet, if we die not, Maker, to him give 
 
 Light from thy source so shall my sin be less 
 In thine account for oh ! I ne'er can live 
 
 Other, with him, than his idolatress." 
 
 " Let me adore thy image as I gaze 
 
 On her fair eyes now raised with mine to thee ; 
 And let her find, while flow our years and days, 
 
 To feed her love some spark of thee in me,"
 
 BRIDAL OF HELON. '24.J 
 
 LI. 
 
 (He said): "Thus, as we kneel, no wild desire 
 Blends with our voices in unhallowed sighs : 
 
 Spirit, to thee we quench the nuptial fire 
 Look down propitious on the sacrifice ! 
 
 DM 
 
 ft Receive it as a token that our love 
 
 Is of the soul ; and if our lives endure, 
 Spirit, who sit'st diffusing life above, 
 
 Look on our union, and pronounce it pure!" 
 
 LIII. 
 While thus they prayed, Hariph her kindred brought 
 
 To listen to them ; thus, as, one by one, 
 Rose their heart-offerings, sense subued by thought ; 
 
 " This borne to heaven," he said, " my task is done. 
 
 L1V. 
 
 *' Call me no longer Hariph : I but took, 
 
 For love of that young pair, this mortal guise ; 
 
 And often have I stood, beside Heaven's book, 
 And given in record, there, their deeds and sighs. 
 
 LV. 
 *' From infancy I've watched them, far apart, 
 
 Oppress'd by men and fiends ; yet, form'd to dwell 
 -*' oul blent with soul, and beating heart 'gainst heart ; 
 
 'Tis done. Behold the angel Raphael.
 
 24( CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
 LVI. 
 " That blest commission, friend of men, I bear, 
 
 To comfort those who undeservedly mourn ; 
 And every good resolve, kind tear, heart-prayer, 
 
 'Tis mine to show before the Eternal's throne. 
 
 " And oft I haste, and when the good and true 
 Are headlong urged to deep pollution, save; 
 
 Just as my wings receive some drops of dew, 
 Which else must join Asphaltites' black wave," 
 
 LVIII. 
 He said ; all o'er to radiant beauty warming, 
 
 While they, in doubt of what they looked upon, 
 Beheld a form dissolving dazzling charming 
 
 But, ere their lips found utterance, it was gone. (3) 
 
 LIX. 
 Afar that pitying angel bent his flight, 
 
 In anxious search, revolving in his breast 
 Of a once-heavenly brother*s wretched plight ; 
 
 Torn from his last dear hope, where could he rest r 
 
 LX. 
 Hurl'd, 'gainst his will, the suffering Zophiel went 
 
 To the remotest of Egyptia's bounds ; 
 Demons pursued to view his punishment, 
 
 And with his shrieks the desert blast resounds.
 
 BRIDAL OF HELON. 247 
 
 LXI. 
 
 Dark shadowy fiends, invidious that he joy'd 
 In love and beauty still, less deeply curst 
 
 Than they, of late had leagued them ; and employed 
 All arts to crush and foil. Now, as when first 
 
 Expell'd from heaven they saw him writhe; and while 
 He groans and clasps the earth, sit them beside, 
 
 Ask questions of his bliss, and then with smile 
 Recount his baffled schemes, and linger to deride. 
 
 LXII. 
 And, when they fled, he hid him in a cave, 
 
 Strewn with the bones of some sad wretch, who there, 
 Apart from men, had sought a desert grave, 
 
 And yielded to the demon of despair. 
 
 LXIIl. 
 There, beauteous Zophiel, shrinking from the ray, 
 
 Envying the wretch that so his life had ended, 
 Wailed his eternity. He fain would pray, 
 
 But could not pray to one he had offended. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 The fiercest pains of death had been relief, 
 And yet his quenchless being might not end. 
 
 Hark ! Raphael's voice breaks sweetly on his grief: 
 " Hope, Zophiel ! hope ! hope ! hope ! thou hast a 
 friend!" (4) 
 
 Cuba, Cafftal San Andres, January 1829.
 
 NOTES 
 
 TO 
 
 CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
 (1) The. bard has sung, God never formed a soul 
 
 Without its own peculiar mate." 
 
 THE gods (says Plato, in his Banquet) formed man, at first, of a 
 round figure, with two bodies and two sexes ; the variety of his 
 powers rendered him so audacious that he made war against his 
 creators. Jupiter was about to destroy him, but, reflecting that 
 with him the whole human race must perish, the god contented 
 himself with merely reducing his strength. The androgyne was 
 accordingly separated in two parts, and Apollo received the order 
 of perfecting them. From that time each part, though become a 
 separate being, seeks, desires, and feels a continual impulse to 
 meet the other See Voyages d'Antenor, tome i, chap. 22. 
 
 Some of the Jewish Rabbins have entertained a similar opinion : 
 according to their accounts, Adam was created male and female, 
 man on one side, woman on the other, and God, afterwards, 
 separated the two forms that were before united. 
 
 " Les androgynes avoit deux sexes, deux tetes, quatre bras, 
 quatre pieds." Voyages d'Antenor, see Note to voL 1. 
 
 It was evidently from such opinions, as well as his own feelings, 
 that Dr Watts conceived the idea of that popular little poem, 
 which he has called the " Indian Philosopher." 
 
 The different accounts of creation are sufficiently amusing. It 
 is said, in the Talmud, that God did not wish to create woman, 
 because he foresaw that her husband would very soon have to com-
 
 250 NOTES TO CANTO THE SIXTH. 
 
 plain of her perversity ; he therefore waited till Adam asked her 
 of him, and then took every precaution to make her as good as 
 possible. He would not take her from the head, lest she should 
 have sufficient wit and spirit to become a coquette ; nor from the 
 eyes, lest she should cast mischievous glances; nor from the month, 
 lest she should listen at doors ; nor from the heart, lest she should 
 be jealous ; nor from the hands or the feet, lest she should be a thief 
 or a runaway ; but every precaution was vain : she had all these 
 defects, although drawn from the most quiet aud honest part that 
 could possibly be found about Adam This is merely translated 
 from M. de Lentier. 
 
 (2) " And farmed, in every fibre, for such love 
 As heaven not yet had given her to share.' 1 '' 
 
 Souls, according to Plato, are rays of the divinity, which, ere 
 they are shut up in the gross envelope of mortality, pass through 
 a state of existence, during which an invincible attraction unites 
 them, two by two, and inflames them with a love pure and celestial. 
 When embodied upon earth, these souls, thus previously united, 
 continually seek and feel a propensity for each other, and, unless 
 they are so happy as to meet, can never be animated by a true and 
 genuine affection. 
 
 (3) " He said all o'er to radiant beauty manning, 
 
 While they, in doubt of what they looked upon, 
 Beheld a form, dissolving dazzling charming 
 But, ere their lips found utterance, it was gone." 
 Flesh is said to be composed of carbon, oxygen, hydrogen, and 
 nitrogen : if men have already been able to discover its materials, 
 the power of making and dissolving it at pleasure, may, without 
 inconsistency, be ascribed to beings so much superior to them as 
 angels have ever been thought. Indeed the supposition of such a 
 power is the only thing that can give the least semblance of possi- 
 bility to what has been related of good and evil angels.
 
 NOTES TO CANTO THE SIXTH. '2'tl 
 
 The following passage, extracted by Brucker, from the writing* 
 of Bonaventura, looks as reasonable as anything which has ever 
 yet been said concerning the mysterious union of spirit and body. 
 " The formal principles of bodies are celestial bodies, which by 
 their accession or recession cause the production or corruption of 
 the inferior ; it may, therefore, be concluded that there is in these 
 occult forms a capacity of being restored to higher principles, 
 namely celestial bodies, or to powers still higher than these that 
 is, to separate intellectual substances, which in their respective 
 operations leave traces of themselves." 
 
 (4) " Hope, Zophiel .' hope ! hope ! hope ! thou hast a friend .'" 
 
 As Zophiel appears to have no evil propensity, and commits only 
 such crimes as are occasioned by the violence of his love ; 
 Raphael may think it possible to induce him to repent, and ulti- 
 mately obtain pardon. Haruth and Maruth were condemned for 
 a time to inhabit a cavern beneath the tower of Babel, with the 
 permission of returning to heaven after a proper expiation of their 
 offences. Their appearance in this cavern is beautifully repre- 
 sented in ' Thalaba.' These angels, according to the story, had 
 obtained while in heaven such a reputation for wisdom that they 
 were sent on earth to judge the whole race of men. They soon, 
 however, became so enamoured of the beautiful Zohara that she 
 obtained from them the most holy of secrets. 
 
 The notes of Zophiel were written some in Cuba, some in 
 Canada, some at Hanover, United States, some at Paris, and the 
 last at Keswick, England, under the kind encouragement of" 
 Robert Southey, Esq. ; and near a window which overlooks the 
 beautiful lake Derwent, and the finest groups of those mountains 
 which encircle completely that charming valley where the Greta 
 winds over its bed of clean pebbles, looking as clear as dew. 
 
 April 15, 1831.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 COMPOSED AT THE REQUEST OF A LADY, AND DESCRIPTIVE 
 
 OF HER FEELINGS. 
 SHE RETURNED TO THE NORTH, AND DIED SOON AFTER. 
 
 ADIEU, fair isle I I love thy bowers, 
 I love thy dark-eyed daughters there ; 
 
 The cool pomegranate's scarlet flowers 
 Look brighter in their jetty hair. 
 
 They praised my forehead's stainless white ; 
 
 And when I thirsted, gave a draught 
 From the full clustering cocoa's height, 
 
 And smiling, blessed me as I quaff'd. 
 
 Well pleased, the kind return I gave, 
 And, clasped in their embraces' twine, 
 
 Felt the soft breeze, like Lethe's wave, 
 Becalm this beating heart of mine. 
 
 Why will my heart so wildly beat ? 
 
 Say, Seraphs, is my lot too blest, 
 That thus a fitful, feverish heat 
 
 Must rifle me of health and rest ?
 
 256 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 Alas ! I fear my native snows 
 
 A clime too cold, a heart too warm 
 
 Alternate chills alternate glows 
 
 Too fiercely threat my flower-like form. 
 
 The orange-tree has fruit and flowers ; 
 
 The grenadilla,* in its bloom, 
 Hangs o'er its high, luxuriant bowers, 
 
 Like fringes from a Tyrian loom. 
 
 When the white coffee-blossoms swell, 
 The fair moon full, the evening long, 
 
 I love to hear the warbling bell/)- 
 
 And sun-burnt peasant's wayward song. 
 
 * The grenadilla is a melon produced from a blossom more rich 
 and beautifiil than it is easy to describe. Though much larger, it 
 resembles the cerulean passion-flower so nearly as to seem of the 
 same species ; but the leaf of its vine is curled, and of a very 
 different shape. 
 
 f- The word ' warbling' expresses, with more truth than any 
 other, the sound which these bells really produce. The dwelling 
 where I have listened to them with most pleasure, was placed 
 about half a mile from the road where the Monteros travelled, by 
 moonlight, as they often do, in Cuba, to avoid the intense heat of 
 the sun. The sound of their bells, heard at such a distance, was 
 so soft and musical, that it might have been mistaken for the 
 noise of a small stream running over a bed of pebbles. The even- 
 ings were sometimes so calm, that many words of their songs 
 distinctly reached the ear.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 'J.>7 
 
 Drive gently on, dark muleteer, 
 
 And the light seguidilla frame : 
 Fain would I listen still, to hear 
 
 At every close thy mistress' name. 
 
 Adieu, fair isle ! the waving palm 
 
 Is pencilled on thy purest sky ; 
 Warm sleeps the bay, the air is balm, 
 
 And, soothed to languor, scarce a sigh 
 
 Escapes for those I love so well, 
 
 For those I've loved and left so long, 
 
 On me their fondest musings dwell, 
 To them alone my sighs belong. 
 
 On, on, my bark ! blow southern breeze ! 
 
 No longer would I lingering stay ; 
 'Twere better far to die with these 
 
 Than live in pleasure far away. 
 
 Cuba, April 1827.
 
 258 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 FROM GERMAN VERSES, BY BARON JOSEPH DE PALM. 
 
 I SAW a little pensive flower, 
 So delicate in form and hue, 
 
 I sighed to pluck but had not power, 
 For on a rocky steep it grew. 
 
 Beneath the rude uncertain height 
 Awhile I stood, with soul and eyes 
 
 Enchained by wonder and delight; 
 Then, rushed to climb the precipice. 
 
 Upon the beauteous prize intent, 
 
 Wildly I plied both strength and art ; 
 
 But a deep boding sentiment 
 Was heavy at my anxious heart. 
 
 Near to the little flower I drew 
 I almost gained the dangerous brink; 
 
 But the old crag from which it grew 
 And looked so fair began to sink. 
 
 Warm with the hope which just had birth, 
 I strove to clasp an effort gave 
 
 'Twasgone it sank into the earth, 
 And left me but an open grave. 
 
 Paris, Feb. 9, 1831.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 FROM GERMAN VERSES, BY BARON JOSEPH DE PALM. 
 
 SLOW was the step that drew me from 
 The loved enclosure of my home; 
 My heavy heart heaved with a sigh, 
 And gathering drops obscured my eye. 
 
 I paused, amid the well-known track, 
 Stood still awhile then started back ; 
 A rose bent forth and beckoned me 
 Fondly I looked the rose was she. 
 
 A nightingale leaned from his spray 
 And sang to me so sweet a lay, 
 That, lost in silent ecstacy, 
 I turned the nightingale was she. 
 
 A little star, that, still on high, 
 Was trembling in the morning sky, 
 Bowed, as 1 looked, inviting me 
 To stay the little star was she. 
 
 The sun that rose with kindly glow, 
 Wrote with his beams : no farther go 
 I could but rest awhile to see 
 Yet, wherefore read ? the sun was she.
 
 260 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 The plain, with more than wonted smile, 
 Wooed me to wander back awhile ; 
 Gazing on dew, and flower, and bee, 
 I lingered still the plain was she. 
 
 Nature had caught me in her arms, 
 And twined me in a net of charms ; 
 I felt my steps no longer free, 
 And stopt surprised Nature was she. 
 
 All all combined I faintly strove, 
 Enthralled, entranced, I could not move : 
 Rose, nightingale, star, sun, plain, tree- 
 The whole sweet universe was she. 
 
 s, Feb. 30, 1833.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 261 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Oh, moon of flowers ! sweet moon of flowers,* 
 Why dost thou mind me of the hours 
 Which flew so softly on that night 
 When last I saw and felt thy light ? 
 
 Oh, moon of flowers ! thou moon of flowers, 
 Would thou couldst give me back those hours, 
 Since which a dull cold year has fled 
 Or show me those with whom they sped ! 
 
 Oh, moon of flowers ! oh, moon of flowers ! 
 In scenes afar were past those hours, 
 Which still with fond regret I see, 
 And wish my heart could change like thee ! 
 
 * The savages of the northern part of America sometimes count 
 by moons. May is called by them the moon of flowers, and 
 October the moon of falling leaves. 
 
 Hanover, U.S., May 1830.
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY C. AND W. REYNELL, BKOAD STREET, GOLDEN SQUARE.
 
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