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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 NA' la C yv-Mj
 
 ZOLUMAN, 
 
 A T R A G K D Y, 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM QUARMBT, 
 
 ACTHOE OF "TUE SKA SHELL AND OTHKK POEMS," ASD 
 " YE CHRONICLES OF ASHLTi.NNE." 
 
 " Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy 
 
 In sceptred palL come sweeping by." — Milton. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 SIMPKIN, MAESnALL, AND CO. 
 
 ASH TON: 
 
 "WIIXIAM QUAEMBT, 208, STAMFORD BTKEET. 
 
 F.ntered at Stationer's Hall.
 
 
 TO 
 
 THOMAS MELLOR, ESQUIRE, 
 
 of beookfield house, ashton-undee-lyne, 
 
 lieutenant-colonel of the 
 
 7th administrative battalion of LANCASHIEB 
 
 EIFLE volunteers, 
 
 this volume of the story of ABYSSINIA, 
 
 AJTD OTHER POEMS, 
 
 IS, WITH THE HIGHEST ESTEEM, MOST GEATEFULLT 
 
 DEDICATED, BY HIS OBLIGED AND 
 
 OBEDIENT SERVANT, 
 
 WILLIAM QUARMBY. 
 
 208, STAMFORD STREET, 
 
 ASIITON- UNDER-LTNE 
 JANUARY Zltt, 1870. 
 
 9'„, -.
 
 fist 0f Sukcribtrs. 
 
 Andrew, Ely, Esq. J. P., Mere Bank, Fairfield. 
 
 Andrew, Frank, Esq. Apsley Place, Ashton under-Lyiie. 
 
 Ashcroft, Peter, Esq. Turner Lane, ,, 
 
 Aspinwall, John, Esq., Albemarle Terrace, „ 
 
 Ashton, James, Esq., Dukinfleld. 
 
 Bass, William, Esq., Steward, „ 
 
 Buckley, Frederick, Esq., J.P , Glossop, Derbyslilre. 
 
 Bates, Ralph, Esq., Stalybridge. 
 
 Brooks, Joseph, Esq., Shudehill, and York Street, 
 
 Manchester. 
 Coulthart, John Ross, Esq , J.P,,F.S.A., Croft House. 
 
 Ashton-under-Lyne. 
 Clementson, J. M., Esq , J.P., Major R.L.V., DukinfieW 
 Chadwick, William., Esq., Stalybridge. 
 Deamaley, Irvine, Esq. Organist, Ashton-under-Lyne. 
 Darnton, Henry Thomas, Esq., Ex-Mayor, „ 
 Goddard, Cornelius, Esq., Stalybridge. 
 Grimshaw, Mrs., High Bank, Gorton. 
 Hopwood, Robert, Esq., L.R C.S.E., Stalybridge. 
 Heap, Ben, Esq., Court House, Llantor, Chepstow 
 Hill, Thomas, Esq., Surveyor, Ashton and Stockport.
 
 Hall, Henry, Esq., Solicitor, and Steward to 
 Lord Stamford, Ashton-under-Lyne. 
 
 Harrop-Hulton , W. E. Montagu, Esq., Bardsley House. 
 
 Uarrop, — ^ Esq., Manchester. 
 
 Ilegiabottom, George, Esq., J P., Southport. 
 
 Ileginbottom, Thomas,Esq., J. P., Ashton-under-Lyne. 
 
 Ilegiabottom, George Henry, Esq., Audenshaw Yilla. 
 
 Ingham, James, Esq , Romily, Cheshire. 
 
 Jackson, U. J., Esq, Solicitor, Estate Office, and 
 Mottrara. 
 
 Kershaw, John, Esq , Audenshaw, Manchester. 
 
 Kershaw, William, Esq., ,, „ 
 
 Lees, Samuel, Junr., Esq., Park Bridge, Ashton-under-Lyne 
 
 Lees, Joseph Esq., Oldham. 
 
 La Fontaine, Rev. William, B.A , Accrington. 
 
 Mellor, Thomas Walton, Esq., M P., Ashton-under-Lyne. 
 
 Mellor, Thomas, Esq , Lieut-Col. K.L.V., Erookfield Honae^ 
 
 Mellor, George, Esq., J. P., Holly Bank House, Aehtoa- 
 under-Lyne. 
 
 Nash, J., Esq., Manchester. 
 
 Kadley, Rev. Thomas, Ashton-under-Lyne. 
 
 Roscoe, Roscoe, Esq., Solieitor, Ashton-under-Lyne. 
 
 Rayner, J. B., Esq., J.P., Thornfield Hall, „ 
 
 Rayner, Charles, Esq , Meltham, Huddersfield. 
 
 Ross, James Smith, Esq., Stamford House, Ashton-under- 
 Lyne. 
 
 Sutcliffe, Wm., Esq., L.R.C.S E., Stalybridge. 
 
 Wild, William, Esq., Turner Lane, Ashton-under-Lyne. 
 
 Williamson, J. W., Esq., Burlington Street, „
 
 LONTENTS. 
 
 X10£, 
 
 Zoluman, King of Mauritania, (a Tragedy) I 
 
 MiSCEIXANEOUS POBHS : — 
 
 Ode to Esq 79 
 
 Sir Thomas of Fellwood 82 
 
 A Drop of Water 85 
 
 Ocean Waves 89 
 
 The Princess of St. Aubrey 91 
 
 The City by the Sea 93 
 
 By the Wayside ., 96 
 
 The Labourer's Song 98 
 
 Oh, would I were a Bird 99 
 
 An Autumn Song 101 
 
 A Lament 103 
 
 Why Complain? 104 
 
 Wisdom 106 
 
 Sonnets on the River Etherow 108 
 
 „ on the Death of a Beautiful Child —.«... 109 
 
 „ on Death 110 
 
 „ Spring Time and Youth 110 
 
 „ ToE.B Ill 
 
 „ Fame .^ 112 
 
 Elegy 112 
 
 The Poet's Grave lU 
 
 A Picture 114 
 
 To Eobert BUggin, Esq 115
 
 ^oluuunt, liinj of UlauritaiM, 
 
 OR 
 PASSION AND SELF-CONTROL. 
 
 A Tl^ADGEDY IN ThREE AcTS. 
 DRAMATIS PERSON.^. 
 
 ViRTUOSA, Queen of the Isles and the sea. 
 Abdalla, and Felissa, his wife, an Eastern Prince 
 
 and Princess. 
 ZoLUMAN, the King of Mauritania. 
 Zamira, his Queen, 
 Zarafa, his faithful Chief. 
 Arrama, High Priest or Abouna 
 BiSHiLLO, Priest of Islam — Traitor. 
 IsTAFAR, Traitorous Chief. 
 
 Amissa, Concubine and second Queen to Zoluman. 
 Safara, rival concubine. 
 
 Missalla, Priestess, Sorceress and Traitoress. 
 Apulis, a faithful Wai^ior. 
 
 Boatmen, Soldiei\s, Concubines, Guards, &c. 
 
 Sir Rupert " the Peerless," chief and commander 
 of the armies of Virtuosa, the Queen of the Isles-. 
 
 Col. Fairweather. 
 
 Captain Mainland. 
 
 Consul Carmeron. 
 
 Dr. Pridieu, and Messrs. Flada and Le Jean. 
 Prisoners in the hands of Zoluman, Soldiers, 
 Messengers, &c.
 
 ACTL 
 
 Scene I. — Palace at Wiudsliore. Com-t of the 
 
 Queen of tlie Isles ot the Sea, Princes, Statesmen, 
 
 Officers, and Guards. 
 
 An eastern Prince and Princess appear, and are presented 
 to Virtuosa the Queen, by two leading statesmen. 
 
 ViR. Let them be presented. 
 
 Enter Prince Abdalla and Princess Fdissaard suite, who 
 boiv till their Ostridk plumes tuuch the ground, on rising the 
 •Prince speaks. 
 
 Abd. Oh great and powe'-fnl ruler, Empress 
 Queen ; 
 Oh most majestic glorious and renowned, 
 "Whose power exceeds, outshines, eclipses far 
 The glorious fountains of my race ! and hers 
 Who came a Queen from Sheha's golden shore ; 
 To bow before the greatest, wisest far 
 Of then existing kings ; tell me I pray 
 Whence doth such power, such honour, grandeur 
 spring r 
 
 ViR. Oh most illustrious Prince & Tr'ncess who 
 Can trace descent from Davids royal line, 
 Kulers of lands beneath the gorgeous sun, 
 Which once were great, and once again shill be. 
 Ye who like her you name, i'air Sheba's Queen, 
 Have come from far to see my power und state, 
 Which ye now see, have seen, and yet shall see, 
 
 Tliis Palace tirst — temple of ancient kings. 
 This house, for house and temple are but one 
 When he inhabits, Avho is King of kings. 
 Tliis state, these guards, are but the outward show 
 Of power beliind ; tho.se towers ye saw that swim, 
 And move.su (ht'.idfiil with or 'gainst the wind.
 
 Are but the sliow of greater power within, 
 And these my troops I in Avheeled battalions free, 
 Are but the sword within my stronger hand, 
 Weak as ye see me, widowed now, yet strong 
 In him the God of Justice and of Might, 
 Who rules, informs, instructs us by His word, 
 This word — 
 
 Presents a Bible to the Prince and Princess 
 
 This Book which I now give to you, 
 
 'Tis it that makes us mighty, powerful, free ; 
 
 Prince and Princess receive the Bible, with fear arid aw€, 
 as something half cabalistic half divine. 
 
 As they obey it, they my latest sons. 
 Shall be as I am — yea shall greater be, — 
 Their people too, as they obey, shall be 
 As free as mine, yea and shall happier be, 
 If they forsake, then all our virtue lost, 
 We, and our future race, and all our realm. 
 Our troops, our power, our palaces and state 
 Shall sink and die in utter rottenness, 
 And as a passing dream shall cease to be. 
 
 Prince and Princess about to retire, Virtuosa detains by 
 a gesture and proceeds : — 
 
 Give glory then to him the Prince of peace, 
 The King of kings, by whom kings only reign. 
 Think not war sovereignty, but seek for peace, 
 Peace the last honour of all earthly kings ; 
 
 Now ere ye leave me, I one favour seek. 
 Which if ye gain it far across the main 
 When ye have left my realms, and reached your own, 
 Then shall ye help percliance t'avert dread wui', 
 And be disciples of tlie Prince of peawe.
 
 4 
 
 P. and Peik. Deign then to say what is the wish 
 yoix seek ? 
 We count it happiness to be requested it : 
 
 ViK. It is 
 That graciously ye send an embassy, 
 Across the mountains and the burning plains 
 Of your own lands, unto your kinsman's court, 
 That royal, passion tossed and self-deceived king, 
 ZoLUMAN called, of Mauritania king, 
 Who ! 'gainst good faith and right in bondage holds 
 My faithful consuls, servants, yea and His 
 (For there are those who serve the King of kings) 
 And risk their lives to teach him God's own word. 
 These long in bondage hath he held, severe. 
 Nor for my patience nor my pleading, cares ; 
 Yea all I send he holds in durance strong, 
 Hard as his soul, which will not let them go, 
 Seek ye to move him, that he let them go, 
 And ye have won my everlasting love, 
 ( Virtuosa frowning) 
 
 Else like to him who perished in that sea, 
 
 Because he would not let God's people go, 
 
 So shall he perish in his own domains, 
 
 If I but steel my soul to hateful war ; 
 
 For war with him will not abate my power, 
 
 Nor tax in aught a tithe of what ye see ; 
 
 But war is hateful ! blood, and groans, and death. 
 
 And widows shrieking through the doleful night, 
 
 And orphans wailing through the lifelong day, 
 
 Their fathers limbs to prowling beasts a prey ; 
 
 And smiling fields consumed by fires of war, 
 
 While ruthless ruin rusts the fertile land. 
 
 yVhich ye avert if but he let them jio.
 
 And save my soul the horrors of a war. 
 
 Exeunt Prince and Princess. Court breaks up. Virtuoso 
 soliloquises. 
 
 ViPv. (solus) 
 War ! war! war ! ! ! most hateful form of death, — 
 As death is hateful to the living soul ! 
 I have seen death look like a peaceful sleep, 
 The sleep that wakes not till some awful morn ; 
 I greived and wept, again I wept and grieved, 
 When that I knew my sire had bowed to death. 
 And when my mother died, disconsolate 
 Within my palace lay I wrapt in gloom, 
 But when my good and priceless Albert died. 
 He whose greater love will light me to my tomb, 
 E'en as the shadow of his loss enshrouds 
 The happiness of all my happy days ; 
 His loss that left me stranded, helpless, -wrecked, 
 Struck in mid seas by the great wave of death. 
 Since then I Avander nightly with his ghost ! 
 Yet is my grief (the endless grief I bear) 
 As music to the grief I felt in war, 
 W^hen I led on my forces 'gainst that foe 
 Who ruled the north, and spoiled my ally's shores, 
 And now again, I fear me, horrid war ! 
 Lord Lancaster doth urge us on to war 
 
 ACT. I SCENE 11. 
 
 ZoLUMAN, King of ^Mauritania. 
 Zamira, his queen and Alamayou his boy. _ 
 Zarafa, Chief of the guards. Interpreter and most 
 faithful friend.
 
 AiiissA, the King's favourite concubine, several other 
 concubines, courtiers, soldiers, guards. 
 
 TIME EVENING. 
 
 Scene. King's Palace at Gondahr 
 
 -"s 
 
 Zoluman on his throne, {in African royal costume), is get- 
 ing impatient that his Courier has not returned from the 
 coast, by whose hands he expects a second letter from the 
 Qiietn of the Isles and the Sea. 
 
 ZoL, (speaks to Zarafa) "Why comes he not ? oh 
 Chieftain ? lo yon star 
 Is near the waters of the western sea ! 
 Which rose above our empire's eastern wall, 
 Now nine long moons since we beheld or heard 
 Mes8as:e or messenger from her who rules the sea : 
 For so they call her, these her slaves whom we 
 In durance hold ; did I but rule the sea ! 
 I would so rule it that my messengers 
 Should find their way and reach their point with speed 
 Switt as the arrow from the hunters bow ; 
 Or I with boats would bridge the world and sea ; 
 Bah ! she's no Queen ! else Avhy is she so slow, 
 Slow to take anger when we hurt her slaves, 
 So slow to know it and redress their -wrongs ; 
 Speak out Zarafa, speak ! and give the sign. 
 
 Zarafa chief of the inner circle of seven of the masonic 
 sixteen or four square, gives the sign to speak. 
 
 Zar. Oh sire ! great son of him who Avas all wise, 
 Founder of oux great circle — deign to hear, 
 I hear it whispered fi-om the far off isles, 
 From the Grand Masters of our secret signs 
 That this same queen is merciful as great. 
 Patient as merciful ; that when she acts,
 
 Acts not but Avitli the voice of all lier realm 
 And this I know, the patient olt are strong, 
 Strongest when most they seem aiVaid to strike ' 
 'J'hrice hath this Queen approached your awful court 
 By letter, messengers, and embassy, 
 Which ye condemn, imprison, or despise ; 
 Yet if she rise in wrath so sure shall we 
 Then sink before her, as the meanest 1 ribe 
 Unarmed, doth fly before your awful power. 
 
 ZoL. Arise in wrath ! why should she rise in wrath? 
 How went our letters ? what did we propose ? 
 Paid we no court ? did I affi-ont her power ? 
 I did but seek alliance with her throne, 
 Assistance meet to conquer this great land, 
 To build great cities, and subdue the tribes, 
 To clear the streams, and to build up hi;j;hways 
 O'er mountain peaks and vast alluvial plains, 
 Compared with which, the colonies and deeds 
 Of that great state which I have heard of — Kome, 
 Were like mud cabins built upon the shore, 
 Which the next tide doth wash complete away : 
 Now my vexed soul, impatient of delay. 
 Seems straitened like to burst my heart away 
 Lest that dread power that moves us from our seat, 
 Should call me hence ere I accomplish it, 
 I, who by birth and genius do unite, 
 Soluman, Caesar, and a host of kings 
 Within myself, I who shall rule the world. 
 
 Zam. the Queen. If my great lord, my husband 
 and my love, 
 Would grant me leave in privacy to speak, 
 With none save these most faithful chiefs to hear. 
 We might expose the root of all these woes,
 
 8 
 
 And point the way to happier hours again. 
 
 At a sign from the King, Awissa and the rest of the wo- 
 men retire, abashed hut haughty threatening futurewoes 
 
 ZoL. Speak my beloved, the fountain of my peace' 
 Bring near my boy, who thrives not well of late, 
 'Midst our commotions 
 
 Zam. (weeping) Oh gracious ; oh, my lord 
 
 Light of my soul ye move me now to tears ; 
 Oft have I seen some vigorous plant or flower 
 Within my gaixlens die for lack of light, 
 A.nd this oui- boy, a plant of tender growth 
 The' large of heart, of sinew, and of brain, 
 Lacks the bright sun of his great father's eyes, 
 The music of his voice ; your fond caress 
 (Too oft, alas, bestowed where most undue) 
 Would make him flourish as the sapling tree 
 That grows hard by the margin of our lake, 
 But see ! we wander thinking on the boy, 
 Forgetful of his su-e and all the realm ; 
 Say then great sire, we have your leave to speak ? 
 To tell the news we heard, perchance did dream ? 
 
 ZoL. Speak yet be brief, we are intent to hear. 
 So that your news be worthy of your soul. 
 For evening comes apace. 
 
 Zam. We heard and saw, it may be in a di'eam, 
 (For dreams oft come to soothe distressed souls) 
 Men of str;inge tongue, white men within a fort, 
 AVTio seemed in bondage, yet their souls were free, 
 They spake and wept, and prayed unto their God, 
 Till light and hope sat beaming in their e> es. 
 Then a large bii'd of swift and powerful wing, 
 Flew from the isles of her who rules the sea ;
 
 And first it lit on ships far o'er tlie main, 
 And then it rcach.ed our shores ; and in its beak. 
 It held a scroll of mystic characters ; 
 One half it gave to these, one half to me, 
 Yet each was like the other, and I heard 
 A voice read out the burden of the scroll ; 
 It was, " all hail ye servants of the queen ! 
 There is a deep and wide expanding- wave 
 Of feeling in our realms to set you free ; 
 And punish him who holds you thus in chains. 
 Trust then in God and he will set you free I " 
 When lo the scene was changed to those bright days 
 When nothing marred our love, those halcyon hours 
 When grace and power and dignity kept pace 
 With sterner virtues ; yea when all the realm 
 Progressed in harmony beneath the rule 
 Of my dread lord ; until that fatal morn. 
 When as we lay enamoured 'neath the trees, 
 Listening to music choiring through the grove : 
 A dark and baleful serpent couchaut lay, 
 (Beneath the leaves), its scales of fretted gold. 
 And gay contortions, led your soul away. 
 You fled and left me all dissolved in tears, 
 Then said the voice, "if he the king return, 
 He and his throne and all his realm shall be 
 Grander than aught his fancy ever drew, 
 If he return not, look ! behold and see ! " 
 I looked, I saw strange legions come from far, 
 With fire and sword, while ruin filled the land. 
 And our own troops and your most faithful friends 
 Ltid all desert you at your utmost need. 
 Heartbroken I yet Kved to see your fall. 
 Which wrought my death, and strangers dug my 
 grave ;
 
 10 
 
 Tlien I awoke and found your generous soul, 
 Lured by yon temptress, toying in lier arms. 
 And since that hour, what woes! what grevious woes! 
 I do beseech you, oh, my gracious lord ! 
 Ponder this dream and it may yet be well. 
 
 Zobiman, (highly disturbed) dismisses the council and 
 calls for Ids favourite steeii, a powerful icar horse, 
 tvhich he always selected for a long ride in his jpas- 
 sionate hours. He then soliloquises 
 
 ZoL. (solus) Then is it so ! 
 Have my ill deeds brought me to such a pass ? 
 To peace a stranger, war within my gates. 
 War ! which to me nor hateful is nor loved. 
 But most of all not feared : love ! hatred ! fear ! ! ! 
 Three passions which recall me to my self. 
 Fierce passion's child, both passion nursed and born. 
 Yet in my youth I ever grandly strove 
 To cultivate both truth and chastity. 
 And curbed myself with strong and powerful rein, 
 As I now curb my war horse in bis flight, 
 Then self-control brought dignity and power. 
 Then Avas I feared, and fear produces peace, 
 And peace hath thorns we feel nor fear in war. 
 Peace brought me love, whom love hath made my 
 
 queen, 
 My fair Zamira and our bright eyed boy 
 These are the fruits of peace, yet as the flower 
 Which gives us honey, gives forth poison too, 
 So this fair peace and love, this sexual bond 
 Produced in me the wildest lawless lovn, 
 (If it be lawless to admire a maid) ? 
 It wrought me passionate nights and lawless days. 
 Anger at home, and deep distrust abroad. 
 Contempt from her 1 sought as my ally,
 
 11 
 
 Wliom the world calls both powerful, great and free. 
 Free ; am I not free ? what is it to be free ? 
 All now there comes upon my glimmering aense, 
 A recollection of the Hebrew king, 
 That passion tossed great fountain of my race, 
 And in his book of wisdom left to me, 
 " The greatest wisdom is to rule the soul. 
 To curb the passions, not to be their slave," 
 Hence then ! foul fiends ! false friends ! and falser 
 
 wives ! 
 Base concubines ! dalilahs ! serpents ! snares ! 
 With feaste of wines, and mirth, and guilty joys 
 We sink you all, call here my fiery steed, 
 Now let me fly this wicked, festering air, 
 I stifle ! choke ! until I feel the breeze 
 Of that pure sky where first my boyhood grew. 
 
 The King rides away : — 
 
 Zarafa and the faithful guards follow at a distance. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Scene 3. — On the river by moonlight. 
 
 Zoluman the King having several hours to spare, arrites 
 at his central fort on Lake Ngura, and calls for his 
 royal large to sail down the river Agaba, ttitendmg 
 to visit his kinsman ivho has lately returned from a 
 visit to Virtuoso, Queen of the Isles and the sea. 
 
 ZoL. (to attendants) See to my horse. 
 And groom and rest him well, then see he feed, 
 On what can injure neither wind nor limb. 
 See he be ready on the third days' morn ; 
 If thou would'st keep thy life. 
 
 Kzit Zoluman in barge. 
 Barge sails away in the moonlight. Zoluman about to 
 seek repose calk his chief Zarafa, and speaks —
 
 12 
 
 ZoL. Zarafa we ■woiald rest, call up the guard, 
 Rest well thyself until the set of moon, 
 Then break our sleep as we have much to do. 
 
 Za.r. Sire we ohey, but by your royal wish, 
 I name a rule you have forgot to-day. 
 
 ZoL. Be brief and name it, such was our command: 
 
 Zar. Said ye not once, " who would be great 
 must rule 
 All others best by ruHng first himself? " 
 
 ZoL. So did I say ! wherein did I transgress ? 
 
 Zar. Rode not the king in anger all night long ? 
 Anger we grant against his former self, 
 But anger still ; then most at close of day. 
 Ye valued more your fiery warlike steed, 
 Than yon poor slaves most dull and haggard life ? 
 
 ZoL. Leave me Zarafa, my most faithful friend, 
 Farewell some hours, we kings are weak and vain, 
 Nursed and matured in faults ; get thee to rest. 
 
 The barge noio sails, the oarsmen sing stanzas of African 
 songs to while the night aioay. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 First Bargeman. 
 
 Calm on the stream the barsfe now glides, 
 Fierce o'er the plain Zoluman rides, 
 Woe is behind when passion guides. 
 
 Second Bargeman. 
 
 He is the king ; the wave, the sea ; 
 His slaves ; the shifting sands are we. 
 If he but frown, we cease to be. 
 
 Third Bargeman. 
 
 He is the light, the sun, the star. 
 Fair as the moon his Queen Zamaar, 
 With them we cannot wander far.
 
 1'^ 
 
 o 
 
 Fourth Bargeman. 
 
 Ko faithful slave his Lord derides. 
 Ko kingdom lives, if it divides. 
 \\ e will be true whate'er betides. 
 
 Cliorus of all the four Bargemen. 
 
 1st. — Woe is behind -when passion guides. 
 2ud. — If he but frowu we cease to be. 
 ;5rd. — With them we cannot wander far, 
 4th. — We will be true whate'er betides. 
 
 The King lestless has arisen, and is walking on deck, 
 wrapt in lions skins, he listens ^ hears the last rejrain. 
 
 ZoL. (solus.) Zarafa sleeps, I walk the deck alone, 
 'Communing with myself ere break of day ; 
 Yoij orb the moon sinks calmly, as now glides 
 This gentle barge ; but fierce my war horse rides. 
 Youth loves to ride the fierce unbroken steed, 
 iBut age delights in scenes of thought and calm, 
 While kings delight in change ; but the great gods 
 Are as the sun and moon and placid stars, 
 Which look upon this nether world, serene, 
 lUumoved, untroubled, whatsoe'er betide ; 
 II have been passionate as my fiery steed, 
 Calm am I now as this my gentle barge, 
 And changeable as kings ; but if the gods 
 I wor.-;liip, keep my steadfast purpose well. 
 My rule shall henceforth be as yonder sun, 
 !My passions chaste as is the silvery moon, 
 \My Throne and Kingdom lasting as the stars : 
 
 Chorus of Bargemen. 
 
 1st. — Woe is behind when passion guides. 
 2tid. — If he but frown we ceate to be. 
 3rd. — With them we cannot wander far. 
 4th —We will be true whate'er betides.
 
 14 
 
 Zoluman listem, is interested. Awakes Zarafu, -Mho lis- 
 tens and repeats the ivliole so7ig. The harfje nou) 
 approaches its journeys end. 
 
 Zoluman repeats to himself miasingly 
 
 " Woe is behind wlien passion ^uides, 
 If he but fiown we cease to be." 
 
 ZoL. (solus.) Sweet is the taste of virtuous self- 
 control ; 
 The day has been sncli words had doomed io death 
 'JMie life of those poor slaves who urge my bai-ge, 
 Slaves did I say ? I henceforth call them men 
 And they who tell my future life shall say, _ 
 There were no slaves in Zoluman's great reign. 
 
 Exeunt Omnes. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Scene IV. — Royal Palace of Abbeokuta. 
 
 Enter Prince Ahdalla, Princess Fclissa his wife, Chiefs, 
 Guards, and atte?idants, 
 
 Abd. (to his chief adviser) 
 Approach my chief, we have great news to-day ! 
 Zoluman, king of Mauritanian realms 
 And our great kinsman, comes unto our court, 
 All unattended, save those faithful few, 
 (Zarafa and his guards of mystic signs,) 
 Haste then, prepare great welcome for the lord 
 Of Mauritania, and our kinsman true ; 
 Yet keep from sight all objects that may tempt 
 Ills soul to wrath or passion, lest \ye mar 
 The purpose we do hold to move his soul, 
 And execute the will of her, the Queen, 
 That he should let her faitliful servants free, 
 Which he in bondage holds-
 
 15 
 
 Flourish of Gongs and other warlike instruments. 
 
 Shouting, ^-c. Enter Zoluman, attended by Zarufa and 
 the guards. (Emotion.) 
 
 Abdalla sealed on his throne, a bed of many wondrois skins 
 surroiinded by his guards and attendants, holding im- 
 viense Jans, which they wave to and Jro. 
 
 Abdalla descends Jrojn his throne and speaks — 
 
 Right welcome royal kinsman, and great King, 
 
 Lord of the fairest pcn-tion of all lands, 
 
 Welcome ! thrice welcome ! on oui- natal day ! ! ! 
 
 Now we will hold our revels, and we pray 
 
 The King's bright presence here for many a moon ! 
 
 ZoL. Thatiks ! royal kinsman ! we will gladly 
 stay, 
 Yet only till the third day wanes apace, 
 Then must we haste to reach our central fort 
 Far up the lake, as v»e have much to do. 
 
 They embrace — P Abdalla leads Zoluman up to his throne 
 and gives command for the music and the festival to begin. 
 
 Scene changes to the open air. — ■ 
 
 Spear throiring — Wrestling — Fighting — Some beheaded 
 when defeated as is the custom. 
 
 Feasti pr(paritig-~ Abdalla and ZAuman walking alone in 
 Vie palm groves. 
 
 Abd. Great kinsman ! Lord and King, the 
 morning wanes, 
 The sun ascends unto his utmost heat 
 And you are fasting ; \)ut we know your power. 
 Strong to endure, and great in self-control, 
 When so ye will it ; and Great Allah speaks 
 Best to men's souls, when most from feasting free ; 
 So saith my beadsman, he my great High Finest, 
 Whom ye shall see and hear of more to-day ;
 
 16 
 
 But we have tidings from the far oflP Isles, 
 From the great Queen, from her who rules the seas, 
 A Queen whose state exceedeth theirs as far 
 As theirs united, (Slieba, Soluma-n), 
 Surpassed all kings ! and graciously she sends, 
 Kind words, fair greeting unto you the King, 
 With fair request, "ye let her servants go," 
 WTaom ye in bondage hold — 
 
 ZoL. Saw ye the Queen ? and did she condescend 
 To plead through you, that I should let them go ? 
 But by your looks, there yet is more behind, 
 What if obdurate, I the prayer refuse '^ 
 
 Enter the Abouna or High Priest Arrama, Zarafa and 
 attendants^ who pay greetings and obeisance to the King 
 and Prince. 
 
 Sound of gongs and the call to feasting heard. All prepare 
 to feast and enjoy. 
 
 Abdalla while walking witli the Abouna. hints his pur- 
 pose, and they agree to work on the soul of the King during 
 his stay. 
 
 Zae. to ZoL. Right royal lord we warn you 'gainst 
 this feast. 
 For such is your most dread express command ! 
 
 ZOL. Thanks good Zarafa, true Zarafa, thanks ! 
 How hke ye yonder Priest ? with looks so high, 
 Speaking great words, and yet to me he seems. 
 As if the wisdom glanced from off his soul, 
 As sparks from off the flint, and leave it less, 
 Is it not so ? mark he enjoys a feast, 
 Who said Great Allah loves a fasting soul ! 
 If he acts out the wisdom he displays. 
 Attach him henceforth to our suite and court. 
 To help and teach us how to raise our state,
 
 17 
 
 As liiiili as here, tliis Queen of all tlie Seas, 
 For well 1 know, as face responds to face 
 In the clear stream, so answereth soul to soul, 
 And well that priesthood elevates a state, 
 Whicli by example purifies the King. 
 
 DINNER IN AFRICAN STYLE. 
 
 Scene. — A Glade in the Palm Goves. 
 
 First — A very large circle of lords and high officers. Second 
 — An inner circle of favoured guests. Third — An in- 
 nermost circle for the King, I'rincc Ahdalla, Arrama, the 
 Jlijh rrtest' — icith Ziiraja, Chiefs, Eunuchs, ^c. 
 
 THE DINNER. 
 Fervod by nearly u.iked slaves, 'wbo cut off plices of 
 meat fiomthe sides of living cowa — mixing and rollinfc up 
 quickly •with many unguents inside i\fiicaij teif bread — then 
 a. slave puts one piece into each guest's mouth — which is 
 eaten and much noise and gusto, drinking, chatteriug, &c. 
 
 Central tuble: The King and Prince Tvith their C'rcle 
 have tlieirs on a raised bo:iid, 'neath au awning of palm 
 trees — they cut their food with small daggers, and eat with 
 much more decorum. 
 
 Zoluman eats sparintrly and drinks no wine. All the 
 rest enjoy as each Hkcs best. 
 
 They then finish by drinking coflce. arrack, melli- 
 fluous wines, and hydromcl, smoking in Arabic fashion — in 
 Abdalla's private chamber. 
 
 ZoL. ITail. great Arrama, high and holy priest, 
 What think ye of the festivals to-d;?} ? 
 Eisiht glad ye seemed to gaze upon the scene, 
 And to partake Avith zest. 
 
 Arrama Oh, sovereign lord, and king of mighty 
 realms, 
 That stretch from hence unto the western sea ; 
 We count it \\ise u|)on occasions meet^ 
 To leave hehind the world and all its cares, 
 c
 
 18 
 
 T' ascend the halls of my most g^racious prince. 
 
 And to refresh us at his royal feasts : 
 
 He who made man — made food and ojenerous wine, 
 
 E'en on occasions He outstretched His laws 
 
 Producing food for thousands — wine for feasts, 
 
 And his last charge was : " feed my lambs, my sheep" 
 
 So as a shepherd feeds his tender flock, 
 
 Rejoicing at their health and eagerness: 
 
 So I iTJoice to share the generous feast. 
 
 Which most sets free the soul ; there can I see 
 
 What passions ! virtues ! vices ! mark my sheep ! 
 
 And can apply my meed of praise or blame 
 
 Where it is justly due. 
 
 ZoL. Right well ye answer us — then tell me pray, 
 Is naught offensive ye have this day seen ? 
 
 Arr. Yea ! there is much of carnal evil zest, 
 And much of sensual selfish cruelty ; 
 But when the Truth we teach has time to grow, 
 Then shall this race improve and far outshine 
 Their ruder sires, its seed from age to age 
 Shall like the leavea swell and 'sunder burst 
 Their vice and woe, and set them wholly free. 
 
 ZoL. Seed did ye say ! what seed ? 
 What truth is that ye teach ? and whence its power ? 
 Comes it from Her, the Queen of all the seas ? 
 
 Abdali.a. (Smiling at the adroitness of the Priest) 
 Oh, royal guest, permit us now to show 
 The glorious gift of Her who rules the sea, 
 
 (Calh for the Qmen's BMe ) Which is inspected with 
 respect, curiosity, and awe. 
 
 ZoL. Is this the source of all her might and power ? 
 Abd Yea, even so, for so the Queen did say.
 
 19 
 
 ^ARAFA. My royal lord, it is that Holy Worcl> 
 (In part composed by your great Ancestors) 
 But all directed by the God of Heaven, 
 For so declare those holy men whom we 
 Imprison yet at your most dread command. 
 
 ZoL. (sneering and angry) Oh, say ye so, and by 
 the sun it is ! 
 Right well I know the secret of her power, 
 It is a Book of deep and cunning tales, 
 Some true, some false, to dazzle and delude. 
 Which she adopts and sends to foreign shores, 
 With great pretence of piety and prayers 
 By first her Missioners — and after these 
 (Base men and filled with cursed greed of gain,) 
 Come Consuls armed with her Prerogative, 
 These, full of evil, overturn our laws, 
 Laugh at our Gods, and call us evil names 
 As tyrants ! monster ! barbarous ! cruel ! mad ! ! 
 Whom if we visit with just vengeance due 
 Then this same Queen doth straightway call for war, 
 Sending her fleet and armies to our shores, 
 And takes away our very state and name. 
 So truly 'tis — the cause of all her power, 
 Base wicked cause of evil gotten might, 
 Fables that fill the brain with phantasies 
 And unknown ills her priests profess to cure, 
 Far rather give me that bold Arab chief 
 Who frankly came with Koran and with sword 
 Than the low, base perfidious policy 
 Of this same queen, her consuls and her priests ; 
 Base wicked cause of evil gottpn power 
 Away ! away ! we read the riddle well. 
 
 Seizes the Book to hurl it away. 
 
 At a sign from Zaraja he cur's himself.
 
 20 
 
 Abd. Oil royal kinsman lay your anger by 
 And listen to the grand and holy strains. 
 
 Zarafa. InterjDreter reads 
 
 *' Righteousness exaltcth a nation" 
 " Greater is he that ruleth a city, &c." 
 " By Me kings reign, &c." 
 " Blessed are the merciful," 
 And lastly the story of Pharaoh and the Red Sea. 
 Zoluman moved and softened. 
 
 Abdalla. (proceeds) 
 And well I know that this same royal Queen 
 Is good and merciful, and just and great. 
 Abhorring war, she waiteth patiently 
 As God is said to Avait for men to turn, 
 So did she pray to me to nrge the king 
 To spare our lands and let her people go. 
 Else Avould her kingdom rise in dreadful wrath, 
 Kor pause, until with fearful vengeance due 
 They come e'en iip unto your royal seat 
 And pluck them hence by force, and if that force 
 Should sunder rend your realms and all your state, 
 The weight would lie on your obduracy ; 
 "We do beseech you therefore let them go. 
 
 Arrama. Yea ! oh dread lord, we second this great 
 prayer, 
 "We do beseech you let her people go. 
 
 Zarafa. Oh my great master, king of all these lands 
 We do beseech you let her servants go 
 And add the gem of mercy to your crown. 
 
 ZoL, We yield, we yield, henceforth then be it so, 
 "When we have reached our central power and state,
 
 21 
 
 ACT. I. SCENE V. 
 
 The same room. Company as before. 
 
 Entr a Messenger in great haste — first on bended knu, 
 then flat on his face he crawls up to Zoluman, then 
 placing the royal foot upon his own head, he waits 
 the command to speak. 
 
 ZoL. Raise him Zarafa and take liim hence apart. 
 
 Hear Avhat he brings, and straight interpret it, 
 
 For he is of the tribes from farthest north 
 
 Whose chief Gabara is our deadliest foe. 
 
 Exeunt Zarafa and Messenger. 
 
 (Zarafa and the Messenger confer apart. The latter is 
 searched and under the locks of his hair around 
 the ears is found a scroll in cypher, from the 
 Queen Zanaira, the purpose of which is explained 
 to Zarafa.) Re-enter Zarafa. 
 
 Zarafa. News my dread lord, a message from your 
 
 queen, 
 In fiercest haste hath come from Maragdah 
 With news, dread news, of gathering treacherous 
 
 tribes 
 That crowd and swarm like locusts o'er the plain 
 And like the clouds when threatening thunder lours. 
 They rush to one grand point, your central fort ; 
 Which lies midway 'twixt you and safety's bowfer : 
 This is the work of her (your concubine) 
 Your chief delight of yore, but now your foe, 
 So sends the Queen, with her great love and prayers. 
 Which I interpret and await your will. 
 
 ZoL. Ah it is so ! and she, how is the Queen ? 
 Is she in safety with our darling son ? 
 But tush, the cowards dare not face my hosts 
 Led by the Queen, though by a friend betrayed, 
 They come in hopes to find us unprepared ;
 
 22 
 
 They dig our gi'aves, but they shall find their own. 
 
 Abdalla. Holy Priest, and you, my chieftain 
 true ! 
 Let us go in and hold a seat of war ! 
 A council first, an then a glorious fight ! 
 (Council of War.) 
 
 Abd. I am at peace ; I therefore give the King 
 The choicest legion of my native troops. 
 
 Abr. And I will bless them, and inspire their 
 minds 
 With warlike ardour 'gainst the treacherous foe. 
 
 Zar. I urge my master instantly to fly 
 By the State Barge and intercept the foe 
 Ere they can seize upon our central fort. 
 And I myself will lead Abdalla's powers, 
 And reach the fort with the first morning sun. 
 
 ZoL. Thanks, faithful friends, your councils I 
 accept. 
 But give the troops some hours of sweet repose. 
 And you Zarafa ! you ! I charge to say 
 'J hey shall have ample plunder and revenge 
 To suit their utmost wish — and you, my chief, 
 Adieu — I go — to sail and reach the fort 
 Ere it shall be beseiged, and soon will give 
 A good account of these most dastard foes. 
 
 Zoluman, Abdalla, and the Priest, ^c, with Gitards, 
 depart in the Barge, leaving Zarafa to follow with 
 the Troops. 
 
 Scene. — The Central Fort. 
 Time — Morning, Sunrise. 
 
 A shout is heard as the Royal Barge approaches the Fort, 
 with the King's banner floating at the helm.
 
 23 
 
 Enter Zoluman, Ahdalla, and Arrama, the High Priest. 
 Zoluman steps first on shore, and is met by Adulis, 
 the Governor of the Fort, wlu> tells of the approaching 
 Foe. 
 
 ZoL. We know, Adulis, and commend your deeda 
 Most that we find the fort so well prepared, 
 Call up the guards and all our choicest troops, 
 And bring my steed — I love his fiery flanks — 
 His flashing eye — vvhich seems — 
 
 Ah ! here he comes ! 
 And by yon sun, which rises not in gloom, 
 He shall see service now with us to day. 
 
 Zoluman commends the groom, who departs astonished 
 and overjoyed. 
 
 ZoL. Look well Adulis, watch on yonder tower, 
 Turn to the south and say when first you see 
 Ours and our Kinsman's troops. 
 
 Abdalla stay you here, 
 And thou our Priest lend us your aid to day. 
 
 {Enter Adulii.) 
 Adu. My Lord and King, I see a cloud of dust. 
 
 ZoL. 'Tis well ! 'tis well ! he said the morning 
 sun 
 Would find him dead, if not within the fort. 
 So spake our faithful chief. 
 
 Adulis send 
 Your trusty scouts to east, and west, and north 
 And bring us news of these our daring foes. 
 
 Ahdalla' s troops arrive and are then refreshed. Scouts 
 
 come in and report. Zoluman walking alone on 
 
 the Parapet, waiting for the reports, speaks. 
 
 (solus.) 
 
 ZoL. This then proceeds from her — her whom I 
 
 loved ;
 
 21- 
 
 And loved so paBsioiiatelj, that half my realm 
 Seemed a poor toy, with which to dower her ; 
 Theirs too no doubt, for as birds fly in clouds, 
 So these false wives consort in companies, 
 And their false love lives but in fever heat — 
 It knows no calm, but drunk with fierce delight, 
 Absorbs the soul, the life, and all my realm ; 
 Wliile my true Avife stands faithful, noble, calm, 
 And loves me most when all is storm around ; 
 Loves but to save me from the storms within ; 
 Storms that will wreck myself, my soul, my state, 
 And her dear self, who glad would smile and die, 
 Could she but save me ; but yon evil troop 
 Of vilest syrens, we call concubines. 
 Are like the fires' and earthquakes' open jaws, 
 That cry more ! more ! 'till they destroy the land. 
 But now, when I would turn from base desires, 
 Now that my soul fights panting to be free, 
 This evil comes, as saith yon Holy Priest, 
 " Who will do right, shall seem to suffer wrong," 
 Well, be it so ; for in the right is strength. 
 And the Great God who hears (e'en as yon suu 
 Looks round the world and ever shining sees), 
 So God hath seen and heard my recent vows. 
 To set His servants, all my prisoners free. 
 So will we trust Him, and our treacherous foes 
 Shall bite the dust to day. 
 
 Ah ; now I see 
 Three clouds of dust blot out the morning sky ! 
 They come ! they come ! and we must now to 
 war ! 
 
 Enter Adulis. 
 Adu. My Lord and King, the enemy is near.
 
 25 
 
 ZoL. We know, we hear, now sec yon morning 
 sun 
 Shines on our fort with presage of fair day. 
 While gloomy clouds frown darkly on our foes. 
 
 Enter Abdalla, Arrama, Zarafa, and Guards. 
 
 ZoL. Hail faithful friends, prepare ye now for 
 
 war. 
 
 (Zoluman embraces Abdalla.) 
 
 ZoL. Tou my dear friend and royal kinsman 
 true, 
 To you we owe our safety on this day. 
 The foe comes on three deep, three armed bands : 
 Behold ! how we will scatter them to day. 
 They dread my name, each chieftan fears my face, 
 And they shall find three Zolumans to-day. 
 First, you Abdalla, lead the firm left wing. 
 But ride my horse and wear my royal plumes. 
 Lead you the right Zarafa, and unfurl 
 The royal banner which precedes the King, 
 And I will fight in front, bareheaded, bold ; 
 So each shall know us well who look on us. 
 Now let our war cry be Zamira ! Queen ! 
 L)eath to Amissa aud our treacherous foes. 
 The foe appears. The King addresses the Troops. 
 
 ZoL. Soldiers advance, be brave, behold the foe 
 You have three leaders, each himself a host. 
 For I myself will fight in ail your ranks 
 Where they fight fiercest there the King will be. 
 And in one hour we will dehver them 
 Like sheep for slaughter into your own hands. 
 Ask not and give no terms, kill and exterminate ; 
 Who spares them least, is dearest to my soul. 
 The sun now blinds the foe — to arms ! to arms !
 
 26 
 
 Forward Abdalla ; forward chieftain too ; 
 Lo I am here ! Let death go on before ! 
 
 1 he battle rages with varying fortunes, but the foe 
 fiightened at meeting Zoluman every where and 
 bo well prepared is finally beaten and flies 
 scattered o'er the plain. 
 
 The Prisoueis are bi ought in, multitudes are slain. 
 Finally Gabara, Amissa, and several Chiefs are 
 captuied, and the victory is complete. 
 
 Trumpets sound. Enter on the stage, Zoluman, 
 Abdalla, Zarafa, the High Priest, Adulis. 
 They embrace each other. 
 
 Exemnt omma. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene I. — The Prison at Gondahr. 
 
 Prisoners in chains — some tied double — others so 
 tightly compiessed, that their flesh is swollen 
 and almost putrid — groans heard from the men — 
 the women, some are in tears, others are rocking 
 themselves to and fro in silent grief; — One aged 
 white haired missionary is walking in his chains, 
 praying with his manacled hands uplifted, and 
 speaks occaionally. 
 
 The Missionary. Hear us oh Lord ! how long^ ; 
 behold our griefs ; 
 Behold thy people Lord, and count their groans ; 
 Awake thy might, make bare thy holy arm, 
 Speed thou our prayers ; arouse our country's rage, 
 And let our wrongs come up before thy seat ; 
 Tame thou this wild usurper, stay his wrath. 
 Ere that we cease to be ; pity our woes. 
 Oi' send thy servant death to set us free :
 
 27 
 
 Yet no ; forgive my doubts and short lived faith, 
 Let not despair get hold on ns to day. 
 Thou hast supported us tlirough monstrous griefs, 
 Deep wrongs, sharp pains, fierce strifes, and 
 
 stifling glooms ; 
 And what seemed more, an age of dull suspense, 
 That eat into the soul, compared with which 
 Death then had seemed an Angel winged with 
 
 joy ; 
 Yet in it all we felt that gracious calm 
 Which speaks thy presence buoying up the soxd, 
 Until thy purpose (ever ripening fast,) 
 Should bring the hour of victory and release. 
 
 Look up, ye prisoners, let us trust a&d pray, 
 I feel my soul impelled to prophesy. 
 Our God has heard, and we shall yet be free. 
 That our great Queen and yon most glorious Isle, 
 Which shines in beauty like some heavenly star. 
 Will hear, has heard, and will redress our wrongs. 
 Yea now 'tis arming, putting on its might, 
 Rousing their soul to deeds unchronicled, 
 Which shall outshine all previous tales we heard 
 Of its great prowess ; thanks, God, to thee ! 
 Let us now call on him to speed our prayers. 
 To speed their might who come to set u^ free. 
 
 Prisoners all pray. 
 Enter Zarafa, Messengers, Slayee, Attendants, and Guards. 
 
 Zar. Strike ofi" their chains, the Kirg hath set 
 
 them free, 
 Bring hither aught that can allay their wounds. 
 And sooth their griefs, that long have vexed my 
 
 my soul. 
 
 Prisoners sing, give thanlis, and pray and bless their 
 God. Some faint ■with joy, and reverse of feeling.
 
 28 
 
 Aged Missionary (To Zarafa.) My God now 
 bless thee in thy day of grief 
 That thon rememberedst and hast pitied lis, 
 Keep thee in all thy ways about the King, 
 And save thy pi-ecious life 
 
 ('Blesses Him.j 
 
 Prisoners all depart in tears of grief and joy min- 
 gled, but feaii'uUy weak, lacerated and torn. 
 
 Enter Zoluman in the open air before the Palace. 
 Prisoners brought before him, who bless and 
 thank him. 
 
 ZoL. (aside) Now feels my soul great joy, but 
 
 a deep cloud 
 Still settles o'er me when I see their wrongs, 
 My conscience whispers, there are after woes 
 (Moud) Come near ye friends and servants of the 
 
 Queen, 
 Your Queen, I reverence, and for her great sake 
 And for my own, I henceforth hold you free, 
 Go free abroad, or seek the farthest coa«t 
 And it ye list, go free to your own land. 
 Prisoners quickly depart. 
 
 ZoL. (to Zarafa) Call now the prisoners of our 
 glorious fight 
 The traitors whom we took, the spoils of war, 
 And chiefly her, A.missa, and her crew 
 Of false deceitful treacherous concubines. 
 Place them in chains within the very walls 
 Yon wretches now have left, there let them feel 
 What weight of sin it is to beard the king. 
 
 Amissa, Concuhines, Gabara and his chiefs are hurried off 
 to prison. 
 
 ZoL. (solus) Now will we hence within our 
 palace gates
 
 29 
 
 And seek tlie arms of our heloved queen 
 
 My fair Zamira and our bright eye'd boj, 
 
 My liope in after ages ; ■\viio shall reign 
 
 O'er all this state, Avhen we have made it strong, 
 
 United, brave, and civih'zcd, and free ; 
 
 Perhaps refined as hers : as great in power 
 
 If not in history, but that must come 
 
 AYhen the great sleep of death hath closed mine eyes, 
 
 Oft times I feel nim near and then recede 
 
 As if he felt his dart and tried its point. 
 
 Fearinff to strike ; Is't that the game is hicfh ? 
 
 Or that my Avork is not so far assured 
 
 That other hands can grasp the power I wield ? 
 
 I know not — but I teel that all is well, 
 
 Most Avhen I feel my soul is uppermost, 
 
 When my base passions conquered lie beneath 
 
 The heel and iron hoof of self-control ! 
 
 Then am I strong ! then is my soul secure ! 
 
 1 hen course my blood and humours through my veins 
 
 As the clear stream that sings along the grove, 
 
 Tlien death seems ever welcome or flies far 
 
 A s if 1 were immortal ! Is't not so ? 
 
 What says that Book ? these messengers and those 
 
 I late set free, those men who never curse. 
 
 Rut blest me free, and prayed for me in chains. 
 
 Will she too bless me there and pray for me ? 
 
 She whom I love in spite of all my rage 
 
 Let me forget ! oh there ! go call the queen. 
 
 Enter the Queen Zamira radiant and happy, leading 
 her son Alamaj'ou. The king dismifses his 
 attendants, and embraces both Tvith great ardour, 
 ^oluman is happy — the curtain falls.
 
 30 
 
 ACT II. SCENE II. 
 
 The same palace at Gondahr. 
 
 JEnter the King, (Zoluman) Qaeen Zamira, Zarafa the 
 Chief, Arrama, the Abouna or High Priest, other 
 chiefs, courtiers, guards, &c. 
 
 ZoTj. Approach Zarafa lend your aid to-day 
 And you ye chiefs of all my iaithful tribes, 
 And thou right reverend priest, your wisdom bring 
 To aid us in our twofold work to-day. 
 Injustice first, which should be void of rage 
 Free from revenge, unmoved by outward fear, 
 Unbought by favour and from bias free, 
 For ever leaning unto Mercy's side ; 
 Then in our grand and setcled enterprise 
 We seek advice from all the assembled court 
 Of priests and councillors and every chief; 
 And mostly those whose natural oflBce 'tis 
 To dig and delve to build and to destroy ; 
 Or we have set our hearts on this great scheme 
 Whereof a part we now profound to you ; 
 To build new citie'?, to construct highways, 
 To bridge the yawning chasms, to drain the marsh, 
 And place a tower on every mountain peak, 
 That shall be eyes for us o'er all the land ; 
 In each a chief shall hold his lesser court 
 To check the lawless and refine the rude. 
 So that the time may hap shall shortly be 
 That trade and messengers, swift and secure, 
 Can fliy from us unto the farthest coast ; 
 And not a helpless wife or orphan child 
 May dread or meet with skaith in all the land. 
 This would we do — but now the hour is come— 
 Call up the prisoners — safe — but not in chains.
 
 31 
 
 Enter Prisoners, viz : — The Chief Gabara, Amissa, 
 the Concubine, and various others of lesser 
 note ; also, two stalwart swarthy Arab Chiefs, 
 Massoro and Wogara, Chiefs of the north- 
 em tribes. 
 
 Zoluman, looking disturbed and somewhat angry. 
 Zamira, evidently uneasy at the presence and 
 beauty of Amissa and the women. 
 
 Z)L, Faithful Zarafa lead the chief away 
 And fair Amissa ; place them not in chains 
 But guard them well in durance till the time 
 When we shall seek again to ti'y their deeds : 
 Set free the rest, but call me those dark chiefs 
 For most my purpose holds with them to-day. 
 
 ZoL. Chiefs of the hostile tribes, ye knew my power 
 And yet ye dared to brave it and conspired 
 With those I name not, e'en to circumvent 
 And to surprise my fort by stratagem 
 With hopes to lay your base and wicked hands 
 Upon our Queen, ourselves, and all the state ; 
 At once, both traitors and most cowardly foes 
 What then the fate ye merit ? Is not death 
 (A soldier's honour) far too high for you ? 
 Speak ! we permit it, but be brief withal. 
 
 WoGAKA. Oh! powerful King! and Chief of 
 mighty tribes, 
 Whate'er betide I bow my neck to fate ; 
 Yet twice I spared your life on that dread day, 
 As this your foe can say. 
 
 ZoL. Say, is it so, Chief of the northern tribes ? 
 
 Massoro, It is — oh ! King of Kings I 
 
 ZoL. And thou — what sayest thou? 
 
 Mas. I sought to take your life
 
 32 
 
 And merit, as I look for, instant death. 
 
 ZoL. (solnsl Now by yon sun, and by my sires' 
 great bones, 
 By liim wlio most in wisdom e\er shines, 
 Here are two noble foes — it rends my heart 
 To give them np to death. 
 
 Zarafa, say 
 Is mercy weakness in a case like this ? 
 
 Zar. The King in wisdom will decide the right. 
 
 ZoL. Then by my soul we give them back their 
 life, 
 For it would blot our justice if we slay 
 iSuch true a-nd valiant foes — let them go free. 
 
 Emot'on in the prisoDers — with murmurs and 
 f^houts of applause in court. 
 
 Arr. Kiglit nobly ruled oh! great and powerful 
 
 King, 
 Ye truly are the son of Soluman. 
 
 Zar. And mercy lends 9 grace unto his crown. 
 
 Zam. (Smiling through her tears.) Oh ! noble 
 husband good and gracious King. 
 
 Thp King now placid and satisfied, calls for the Men 
 of Science ; tliey consult together; he then gives 
 bis plans and orders and dismisses the Court. 
 
 Exeunt Courtiers, <fec' 
 
 Zoluman and Zamira alone. 
 
 Zajv Oh ! noble King ! oh ! sweet and happy 
 life ! 
 Could we but always hope to live like this. 
 To see you great and brave, from passion free, 
 Then should I be content it the Great God 
 Bliould call me hence — ^yea ; were I no more Qiieen,
 
 33 
 
 But lived and died as once — a cottage maid, 
 
 I milked the goats and drove tlie flocks a-field, 
 
 And sang and played throiighout the livelong day. 
 
 I should be happy if my Zolnman 
 
 Fulfilled the purpose of his noble sires, 
 
 Ruling the land for his eternal fame 
 
 And for the people's good. 
 
 The Queen, Zamira, now calls for lier musical 
 instruments, and sings in an alcove in the 
 Garden. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Oh ! happy Queon, once happy maid, 
 As when in smiling fields I strayed. 
 Sole daughter of the fair Zorayd. 
 iMy mother dear. 
 
 I ora a happy mother now, 
 The star of power is on my brow, 
 Yet love is in my lieart below. 
 Deep and sincere. 
 
 Love that can lift us to a throne. 
 Or make us happy when unknown, 
 ]\jy husband's love is all my own, 
 His love so great. 
 
 The King hath laid his anger by. 
 The clouds have left the stormy sky. 
 We hail the star tranquility, 
 Eeturning late. 
 
 Unlike the burning scenes before, 
 The lightnings shfen, the thunders roar, 
 Which smote, and scorched my heart so sore, 
 'Mid all my state. 
 
 Te towers so tall and fair to see. 
 
 Ye bowers of every pleasant tree. 
 
 How oft the Serpent lurks in ye, 
 
 With tongue elate, 
 
 P
 
 34 
 
 Whose poisoned fang and whispered hate. 
 Forsake the peasants peaceful state, 
 To hiss around the base and great, 
 Up to the throne 
 
 But while my Zoluman is near, 
 I cannot; will not, yield to fear, 
 He is the sun of all my sphere, 
 j\]y own, my own, 
 
 Enter Zoluman, Zarafa, Arrama, and several Wise 
 Men, walking in the Gardens. 
 
 Zar. But sire we count it wise the King should 
 be 
 The fount of law and honour to the realm. 
 
 ZoL. Well good Zarafa let these tables be 
 Arranged, collated, and receive our seal 
 When they have met approval and consent 
 Of these Wise Men, our Councillors, 
 And at their head our high and sacred Priest. 
 We wish to rule so that the meanest hind 
 Shall be as safe as our well-guarded Queen ; 
 (The Queen heard singing.) 
 
 As free from fears — as happy in their home 
 
 As she is in her bower. 
 
 (Zamira sings.) 
 
 But while my Zoluman is near, 
 
 I cannot, will not, yield to fear. 
 
 He is the sun of all my sphere, 
 
 My own, my own. 
 
 Zamira screams — they break in upon her privacy in 
 the Garden, and find her much moved ; a 
 Serpent having crawled across her path and 
 recalled her former dream. Enter private 
 ^ messenger with a letter from Amisa to the 
 
 King.
 
 35 
 
 ZoL. What is't, my love ? lo Zoluman is near, 
 Repeat that strain and yield not now to fear, 
 Look not appalled, we brook no rivals here, 
 
 My own, my own. 
 
 Za.m. Oh! my great Lord, 'tis but a passing 
 cloud. 
 Some recollections of a hideous di^eam, 
 A Serpent crawled across my garden path. 
 Come let us in, the night grows chill and cold. 
 The Bulbul's note hath lost its sweetness now, 
 And the great moon looks sickly — let us in. 
 
 ZoL. What ails thee, Queen — who sang so sweet, 
 but now — 
 
 Zar. Dread Lord, her song had stolen the 
 Bulbul's voice. 
 
 Are. And the great moon looks pale to envy her. 
 (Exeunt omnes.) 
 
 ACT n. 
 
 Scene III, Night in the Streets of G-ondahr. 
 
 The King disguised, is waiting for his evil -gein us, 
 Istafar. 
 
 ZoL. (solus.) Zarafa sleeps, my evil-genius 
 wakes, 
 And lo yon star now sinks in endless night, 
 A type of my resolves. I feel my soul 
 Like the fleet hcund long vexed within the leash 
 Start forward, panting, or as my noble steed 
 Unduly curbed rebounds with double speed. 
 So my vexed passions chafing in my breast 
 Bj long restraint, now break through all control.
 
 36 
 
 We'll pass tLe night in revelry, and then 
 Be vii'tuous with the morn. Ah ! ah 1 ah ! 
 
 IsTAFAR. Well met, oh! King! 
 
 The game's a-foot, we'll have great joy anon. 
 
 ZoL. Where go we Istafar ? is my disguise 
 Such as we wish it ? Call me not the King ; 
 Thou shalt be Zoluman, I, Istafar. 
 
 • 1st. If it so please you — he you Istafar, 
 Your royal mother would not know her son ; 
 But an it please you call me not the King. 
 
 ZOL. Well, we'll dispense with names, but lead 
 us on, 
 Where is this revelry you promised us. 
 
 1st. This way to yonder tent ; that cui-sed moon 
 Sinks slow to darkness. Soon the murky night 
 Will close us round and hide from every eye. 
 Be you Ibrahim, I will be Zamar. 
 
 Tents of Officers, Chiefs, and Concubines, feasting. 
 Enter Ibrahim and Zamar.— Chorus of voices 
 
 Ah, right welcome, now ; here come two Chiefs, 
 As bytheu' looks we know. 
 
 Jbr. Wine, wine ; good friends, I thirst for 
 
 glorious wine ; 
 
 (Drinks deep.) 
 And by the moon 'tis a delicious wine ; 
 If but your feasting be as good, we will 
 Stay and enjoy and be your latest guests. 
 
 Zam, Friend, I will pledge you that the feast 
 shall be 
 In all things chief, in viands, wine, and songs. 
 And in briglit eyes whose fire and witching grace 
 gJiall chase the hours and make us fc^iT the morn,
 
 37 
 
 Ibr. Then let us take our fill of joy 'till day. 
 Wake with the rosy hours to shame the night. 
 
 They feast and ! drink excessively, attended by 
 Slaves and Concubines, very voluptuous and 
 captivating. 
 
 Zamir to Ibraham. Saw ye that Sprite that 
 passed the cup to me, 
 She seems some Houri from the realms of bliss. 
 
 1st. Yea and my eyes have drunk so deep of her 
 I fain would steep my lips at the same fount. 
 She comes this way, make room, my good Zamar. 
 (Enter Safara, a most bewitching Courtesan.^ 
 
 Saf. (to Ibr. or Zol ) Oh wondrous chief, let me 
 supply your needs. 
 Here are sweet fruits, enjoy, drink deep of bliss. 
 
 Ibr. Come sit by me, you are the sweetest fruit, 
 I'll pluck and I'll enjoy. 
 
 (Kisses her.) 
 
 Zam. N"ow by my soul these revels whii-l apace, 
 Each chief lets loose his soul, and the choice wines 
 Now rouse the passions, while these syrens bring 
 Fresh charms each moment, then the dance, the song 
 A.nd the whole chorus, >vhose voluptuous limbs 
 And flashing eyes fill up the fitful hours 
 That shall enthrall the soul of Zoluman, 
 And lead him captive to Amissa's feet. 
 Right well Safara plies her unknown task, 
 Him for herself to win, but I — for me — 
 For her, who pants to hold him once again, 
 A slave within her powerful silken charms. 
 
 Ibrahim and Safara are deep in guilty love. 
 Enter near them, two Chiefs,
 
 38 
 
 1st Chief. Think ye Gabara will away with her 
 Now that the King hath wholly cast her oflf ? 
 
 2nd Chief. So rumour speaks, since now that 
 they are free, 
 Untended but by one slave's sleepy eyes, 
 I saw them now some few short hours ago, 
 In deep and loving converse near the fort, 
 All free her beauteous limbs, her face divine 
 Uplifted to the moon, enchanting ! fair ! 
 While her large eyes, rolled like two liquid orbs 
 Of changing light, for she was moved to tears, 
 But her proud soul refused to let them flow, 
 Meanwhile Gabara urged her instant flight. 
 With all the pathos born of love and fear. 
 
 (ZoL. as Ibrahim.) Ah, is it so ? then must I 
 quick away. 
 Though it now rends my heart to leave this maid. 
 Hist ! Good Zamar ! shall we withdraw at once, 
 I would refresh me with the cooling breeze. 
 
 Zamar. We will anon, keep up the game awhile, 
 Then when I come, rise- up and follow me. 
 
 The rerels grow louder. Exeunt Ibrahim and 
 Zamar. 
 
 The Fort and Prison. 
 
 Enter (unseen) Ibrahim and Zamar, 
 Gabara, and Amissa, in loving converse. 
 
 Gab. Come my beloved ! come be my only 
 Queen ! 
 Come let us fly this cursed fort, ere morn 
 Shall wake to find us once again in chains ; 
 The King's vile lust at length is sated quite,
 
 39 
 
 Or he has fallen on coarser food withal. 
 Leaving your heavenly beauties for a bride 
 As cold and constant, as tbe northern moon, 
 Or sunk ere this in revelry and wine. 
 He sates his sonl with one as dark and foul, 
 As you are pure and fair, oh ! come away ! 
 
 Ami. Great chief Gabara, if I thought it so, 
 I'd fly with you to your strong northern towers, 
 And we would fight with him until his throne, 
 (Long tottering) fell beneath our rising power. 
 My soul would hate him e'en as I do hate 
 His pale and placid meek-eyed moping bride, 
 Who shuddere when my shadow lights on her. 
 Yet is she good and fair, and constant too, 
 And if he so debases his great soul, 
 And leaves her light for dark Safara's eyes, 
 I never more shall care to look on him, 
 But fly with you — until the fateful morn 
 When you shall plant your eagle flag above 
 His ramparts and his towers. 
 
 Gab. Then will I bring 
 
 Proofs that shall satisfy your doubting soul 
 And make you wholly mine. 
 
 ZoL. (aside) Look to him Istafar, and see he die, 
 Hurl his foul bones to feed the prowling wolf; 
 Thus perish all who seek to thwart the King. 
 Exit Gabara, when he is met by Istafar and slain, 
 1st. Stay treacherous dog, receive thy fate and die. 
 (Stabs Him.) 
 
 ZoL. (alone) Is she not beauteous, now behold she 
 weeps, 
 And by my soul she weeps for love of me,
 
 40 
 
 See the proud rage pent up within her breast 
 Now breaks its bondf?, and like a fiery flood 
 Abrades, consumes, the fountain whence it flows, 
 See those proud limbs ! how every step reveals 
 The passions that declare her born a queen. 
 Oh when I see her thus my amorous soul, 
 Forgetful of all ties, all laith, all truth. 
 Impels me forward nor will let me pause 
 Until I make her mine. Stay now she speaks. 
 
 Ami. (solus.) Oh would that Istafar, my earlier 
 love 
 Had never brought me here — he never loved. 
 But traded on my beauty, and deceived 
 My once good simple heart, that he thereby 
 Might rise to evil power. I know his wiles, 
 And I much fear Gabara's life this night 
 Must pay the forfeit of his honest love, 
 I do afford him pity, and these tears 
 Are half compelled by his untoward fate. 
 He loves, he fain would snatch me from the gulf, 
 That ever yawning opens at my feet, 
 Such dangers lurk round those who love a King : 
 I leagued with him — (led on by Istafar) 
 To seize the King and to exert my power. 
 And undermine the virtue in his breast 
 Yet loved I most, when most adverse he seemed, 
 I loved the King ; oh ! had I been his Queen, 
 I would have watched him with a thousand eyes, 
 My heart had looked a thousand devious ways 
 To pluck the evil from his perilous path, 
 Tliat leads him on to greatness ! nor should he 
 Have known ('till late) the hand that strewed the 
 flowers,
 
 41 
 
 And built the chaplet to adorn his brow ; 
 
 But if Grabara bi'ing me proofs, this nig-ht 
 
 Shall end the struggle in my trembling breast, 
 
 I will away — will fly with him — afar, 
 
 Cut out this plague spot from my guilty breast, 
 
 And let each pure and placid impulse beat, 
 
 Sweet moasures henceforth to his honest love, 
 
 As when I was a maid ; yet ah, my soul, 
 
 How hard it is to fio-ht ag-ainst that love 
 
 Which so absorbs me for the guilty King. 
 
 I could tear out my eyes, my hair, my tongue, 
 
 That thus confesses such a fruitless love. 
 
 Safara too : a dark and wicked wretch, 
 
 Who poisons all who only look on her — 
 
 How many chiefs have fed the wolves through 
 
 her ? 
 How many graves lie thick upon her path ? 
 What midnio-ht revels have disarraced the land ? 
 What treasons there have hatched their serpent 
 
 brood ? 
 Long hath she cast her eyes upon the throne : 
 And now I see two graves rise at her will, 
 Mine and another — ere she wins the pi-ize ; 
 A prize no more — if it can so be won. 
 Peace, oh ! my breast, I will await the proof, 
 And if the King hath fallen so base, so low, 
 I will away and fly the guilty land, 
 And leave the Kinof ! the Kino: ! 
 
 Walking to and fro, she awaits Gabara. 
 
 ZoL. Amissa, my beloved, behold me near, 
 You call the King, the King, who loves you still. 
 
 Approaches as if to embrace her, she starts back in. 
 surprise.
 
 42 
 
 Come to my arms, the Qiaeen shall be deposed. 
 
 Gabara dies, and yon vile Istafar 
 
 Shall see no mornings liocht ! Oh come 
 
 And reign henceforth — beloved ! my only Queen. 
 
 Ami. Oh my poor heart — the good Gabara slain ? 
 The Queen deposed, and Istafar to die. 
 At what a price we tread the awful steep, 
 That reaches to a throne ; what then of her 
 Whose name doth blister all who whisper it ? 
 
 ZoL. Safara ! 
 
 Ami. Aye Safara ! 
 
 ZoL. Fear her no more, come reign my only 
 Queen, 
 Bring all your train, yourself shall henceforth be 
 Next to myself. Come let my soul have rest ; 
 Take all my power — disperse each hated chief, 
 And let your soul be sated with revenge, 
 So that you yield, I care not whom you slay. 
 Come my Amissa, come. 
 
 Ami. Think ye that I delight in scenes of blood ? 
 Or love to walk o'er newly risen graves ? 
 Leave that to treacherous Kings and the vile brood 
 Whom base Safara leads. 1 love the Queen, 
 Nor would her gentle soul should suffer wrong, 
 She's liker far a Seraph than a Queen, 
 And longs for peace in some lone country dell, 
 While I must bi-avo the very gates of Hell, 
 To seat me on her throne. 
 
 ZoL. (impatiently.) Shall it be so — oh ! speak 
 and be a Queen ! 
 
 Ami. Queen to a King who loves a thousand 
 wives,
 
 43 
 
 Unsettled as the wind. More constant far 
 Each bird that flutters, or the insects wing. 
 
 ZoL. Bees seek for honey, birds for food and 
 flowers. 
 Man seeks his mate, but Kings are pla|iued indeed ; 
 They seek through thousands, but to find a Queen 
 Whom I have found in thee, and lovelier far 
 Than bee, or bii-d, or honey breathing flowers. 
 Come my beloved ! and be my future Queen, 
 
 Ami. I yield oh King — yet must you henceforth 
 be 
 True King unto your Queen. For if I come 
 I go not hence 'till all avenging death 
 Shall cut the tie that makes us only one. 
 
 ZoL. Then be it so — so that yo a come — I yield. 
 I will be King but in the tented field 
 And 'mongst -my chiefs, but you shall be the 
 Queen. 
 
 Ami. I yield my Lord, I come. 
 ZoL. Oh ! my beloved ! my sweet Amissa fair ! 
 A thousand ages cannot pattern you . 
 
 They em hrace with great feeling. — Istafar looks in, 
 laughs, and departs. 
 
 ACT II. SCENE IV, 
 
 A Laro-e Cave in the Mountains, in a Grove Sacred 
 
 to Islam. 
 Enter Conspirators. 
 BisHiLLO, Priest of Islam. 
 ISTAFAE, Chief of the Conspirators.
 
 44 
 
 MiSALLA, Priestess and Witch. 
 Chiefs, Eunuchs, and Concubines. 
 Zabafa, disguised and unknown. 
 
 Time— after midnight — hrgefire burning. 
 
 Bis. Arouse the fire, the air grows chill and 
 cold, 
 By that methinks I scent the morning dawn, 
 And yet he comes not, — where is Istafar? 
 
 1st. Dread Priest of Islam, doubt not thou the 
 deed, 
 The King is ours, he will be here anon ; 
 Amissa reigns supreme o'er all his soul, 
 She soon will lead him to this sacred grove, 
 To seek thy power, and to abjure his Gods, 
 And bend his knee at holy Islam's shrine. 
 
 1st Chief. He comes, d'-ead priest, make way, he 
 
 comes ! he comes ! 
 2nd Chief. Nor goes he hence, until he bend his 
 
 will, 
 To our designs, so will we henceforth rule, — 
 Tliough he is King — a King but iu the name. 
 
 Zau. (solas.) Ah, is it so ? methought it won- 
 drous strange, 
 So many chiefs shou.d leave the banquetting 
 With all its joys of dainties, mirth, and wine, 
 And witching eyes, to seek this horrid cave 
 In midnight houi's ; alas, the mighty King ! 
 My royal sire ! what woes this night may bring. 
 
 Enter Zoluman and Amissa.
 
 4 
 
 r 
 
 BisH. Mis. Chiefs, (Chorus) All hail the King, 
 all hail the beauteous Queen ! 
 
 ZoL. Hail mighty chiefs, dread Priest and Priest- 
 ess pale ! 
 Whose wondrous power beyond all mortal ken, 
 Lays bare the secrets ot" the awful dead 
 And penetrates the Avorlds beyond the tomb ; 
 Give me but proofs, shew me my future deeds, 
 My contests fierce, until my lite's last close. 
 And I will bend my knee at Islam's shrine, 
 And build me towers, and plant large sacred groves, 
 For all the prophet's tribe. 
 
 Mis. Come then this way, 
 See these Avarm entrails and those reeking limbs, 
 Behold in these your ibes, they come ! they come! 
 The soldiers of yon Queen of all the seas. 
 See their fierce throbs to reach your central fort ; 
 But see the King (by holy Islam's aid) 
 And by my power outstrips them in the race, 
 Look what a heap of slain, see there ! the King ! 
 He fights !^he lives ! he looks ! he dies ! the King ! 
 
 ZoL. Enough dread priestess, I am henceforth 
 yours, 
 Bishillo lead us to your sacred shrine 
 We worship and adore. 
 
 Bis. Wilt thou first spare the threatened life of 
 one 
 Who is thy faithful son — thy Istafar. 
 
 %oh. We will, we will, and henceforth let him 
 live. 
 
 Bis, Wilt thou re-call those cursed pale-faced 
 foes !
 
 46 
 
 Place them again ia cliains, nor let tliem free, 
 'Till death relax their bonds. 
 
 ZoL. We will — we will — 
 
 Bis. Wilt thou henceforth depose thy former 
 Queen, 
 And hold Amissa as the rightful power, 
 With all her house — and Queen of all the land, 
 
 ZoL. Let it be so — we swear she is the Queen. 
 
 Bis. Then let us on into the holiest shrines. 
 And seek the aid of Allah, ever great, 
 Confirm the rites that make Amissa Queen, 
 And then adjourn to scenes of light and joy. 
 
 They penetrate into a second cave gloriously illuminated. 
 
 Exit Zarqfa, amazed at the beauty and power of Amissa. 
 
 Zar. (solus.) Now is the King undone— unless 
 my hand, 
 And hers, the Queen ; and his our holy Priest, 
 Can draw him hence, and break the mighty spell. 
 Aid us ye gods — oh, royal Zoluman ! 
 O, man of might ! How is the mighty fallen ? 
 But I must hence unto the patient Queen, 
 Ah me ! I scent disasters in the air ; 
 Feuds, griefs, and woes, and all the back recoil 
 Of wise designs ! how well his royal feet 
 Trod firm the giddy pinnacle of power, 
 And yet how soon he falls — and all the realm. 
 Grant me ye gods the mighty gift of power, 
 To be the prop of all this tottering state, 
 To shield the Queen, and to protect his race. 
 If not — I care not when I close mine eyes. 
 Yet will I guard him to his latest hour, 
 Protect him with the sacred sevenfold shield,
 
 47 
 
 WTaosc signs shall scatter by their mystic power, 
 The woes that weave their wiles around his soul 
 I'll gladly die when I have baffled those, 
 And foiled the schemes of yon base caitif crew, 
 That wicked priest and yon most hideous hag ; 
 But ah ! 'tis not in them that lies the charm, 
 Amissa's eyes have wrought us all this harm. 
 Exit Zarafa. Curtain falls 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene I. — The Port at Massorah, 
 
 Ships visible at sea, — Tents visible on land, — Soldier's shouting. 
 
 Hurrah ! Hurrah ! ! Hurrah ! ! I 
 
 1st Soldier. What is the noise about ; why shout 
 they so to-day ? 
 
 2nd Soldier. The ships have come and brought 
 us ample stores, 
 
 Fresh rations, clothing, mules, and beef, and 
 
 wine ; 
 New clothes — with news of great Sir Rupert. 
 
 1st Sol. Why what a medley in your talk to-day, 
 Among the rations you have classed the mules, 
 Amongst the clothes — Sir Rupert, 
 As if we all must live on asses's flesh, 
 And have for our commander one Avho knows 
 More of the tailor's business than his own. 
 
 2nd Sol. Why there it is— the business is his 
 own — 
 If he cares not for food, and mules, and clothes, 
 We ne'er shall see Maragdab. So you see
 
 48 
 
 To be a good commander — one must be 
 A grocer and a tailor. 
 
 1st Sol, I Avas a grocer once, and near had been 
 A tailor too, my father was — but yet 
 I ne'er shall reach the heidit of our commander, 
 I cannot make it out— but yet Avill I 
 Be first to enter (if I see that day) 
 Maragdah's Fort, when e'er the storming comes. 
 
 2nd Sol. And so will I, let's strike our hands 
 upon't, 
 We will be true and stick l)y one another, 
 And who can tell, we may fresh laurels gain, 
 Be first within the fort, capture the chief. 
 And ffain the praise of our commander too. 
 And hear our name in every mouth at home ; 
 Then if we live we'll gain that glorious cross 
 Call'd " Virtuosa" and retire at ease, 
 Well pensioned, cared for in our later days. 
 And if we die 
 
 1st Sol. We die and all is o'er. 
 
 Shouts heard,— Hurrah ! JJurrah ! ! Hurrah ! ! ! 
 (^Enter Messenger.) 
 
 1st and 2nd Sol. Wliat now, why shout Ihey so? 
 
 Messenger. The great Sir Rupert's come, 
 Kupert the soldier, peerless, brave, and free. 
 1st Sol. Give me my drum, it ne'er shall yet be 
 
 said 
 I welcomed not so great a chief as he. 
 ( Rub-a-dub-dub.) 
 
 2nd Sol. Nor I. 
 
 JvIessenger. Nor. T. 
 
 Hurrah ! Hurrah ! ! Hurrah ! ! !
 
 49 
 
 Messenger. Now will we soon be all upon the 
 inarch, 
 And fetch that fox out of his kennel too, 
 And shake him as a terrier shakes a rat, 
 And set the prisoners free — hurrah ! hurrah ! 
 Three cheers for great Sir Eupert and the Queen. 
 
 2nd Sol. Ah boast not so — the common talk 
 runs on 
 Tliat we have near five hundred miles to go — 
 O'er mountain peaks, deep dells, and forests wide, 
 Down rushing scars, and chasms, and cataracts. 
 Where water rushes backward, and where streams 
 And rivers run with foam of poisoned blood ; 
 Where fiery serpents,: having many heads, 
 With scorpion tails and wings, and double stings. 
 The people too — ah, fearful — well-a-day — 
 When shall we see Maragdah and return 
 To Brentford once again — ah, me. 
 
 1st Sol . Tush ! now be brave, 'tis but a month 
 
 or so 
 Ere we shall reach the fort and slay the King, 
 And set the prisoners free ; aiid then return 
 And have a merry happy glorious time. 
 We'll w4nd about the chasms, and skirt the hills, 
 And slay the serpents ; and we'll leave behind 
 The poor wild savages who fill the land. 
 We'll plant our flag upon Maragdah's towers. 
 And jnst come dow^n again and get us home. 
 Keep heart, therefore, and hold together now, 
 Both .you and I, and this our comrade too. 
 And Ave shall live to see our home again, 
 And to be happy too. 
 
 E
 
 60 
 
 Messekger. Agreed, now let us go and seek for 
 food, 
 And drink success, for drinking does me good. 
 
 All. Agreed. Then be it so, give us your 
 hands. Agreed. 
 
 Enter three soldiers. — Ah ! well met, the son of the tailor 
 of Brentford ; and you. and you, ah ! ah ! how go ! 
 well met ! let us go seek the canteen up this way, 
 and have a good carouse. 
 
 Exeunt Soldiers. 
 
 Tent of Officers of the Staff. 
 Time, evening. — Officers at mess. 
 
 1st Officer. (Col. Mainstay) At last our chief 
 is come, this happy news 
 Will cheer our souls and lighten all our care. 
 
 2nd Officer. (Captain Constant.) Thanks for 
 your tidings, now our tedious days 
 Of dull suspense will as by magic change 
 To noble deeds and full of high emprise. 
 
 3rd Officer. Sir Rupert come ! then hence with 
 sloth and rust, 
 Which ii'ets the soul, e'en as the canker worm 
 Destroys the ship — as garments by the moth 
 So these long days, these tedious dull delays, 
 Sap the foundation of our martial strength, 
 And eat our armies as the locust tribes 
 Eat up the spring and leave a blight behind. 
 Thanks for the change ; all hail our valiant chief. 
 We'U di-ink a bumper to his peerless soul. 
 Sir^Kupert ! hail ! hurrah ! 
 
 Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah,
 
 51 
 
 Col. Mainstay. On with the feast, brin» out the 
 choicest wines, 
 Let us carouse until the evening gun ; 
 Then will we snatch our light-lid soldier's rest, 
 And ;is the lark which mounts to meet the sun, 
 So will we all anticipate the morn, 
 And rouse the troops bj early bugle call, 
 That he — Sir Rupert — our most peerless chief 
 May find us ready for our great emprise : 
 Dismiss all care — send round that sparkling wine, 
 Enjoy the feast, with mirth and pleasant song, 
 In due control as soldiers of the Queen 
 And sons of sires whose deeds and glorious names- 
 Have fired your souls to this great enterprise, 
 As pure and matchless as those Holy Knights 
 Who spent their lives redressing human wrongs ; 
 Who lived and died and in their armour sleep 
 Until that fabled morn when they shall rise 
 At their great leader's voice to save the land. 
 j\Ieantime we cry — all hail Sir Rupert — hail ! 
 And also cry thrice hail our virtuous Queen ! 
 Now may confusion light on all her foes, 
 And most on this wild lion of Grondahr. 
 The Queen— the Chief— all hail ? 
 
 Hm'rah, hun^ah, huiTah. 
 
 Thefeaat goes on with music and songs, ^'c. , far on into 
 the night. 
 
 OFFICER'S SONG. 
 
 Here's to the loves wc left behind 
 In the land so brave and free, 
 
 The valley farm, the village spire. 
 And the brave old trystiug tree.
 
 52 
 
 Oft in my dreams at early morn, 
 
 As we sailed o'er the stormy main, 
 I saw tby siDiling fields of corn. 
 And climbed thy woods and bowers again. 
 
 Through num'rous years and chanceful climes, 
 From Lapland cold, to fieice Lahore, 
 
 From England's joys to India's crimes. 
 And all the Ttugef ul scenes of yore. 
 
 The rapid march, the broiling sun. 
 The foe dispersed, puisued, and slain ; 
 
 'Till Delhi's towers and evening gun, 
 Proclaimed us victois once again. 
 
 Down to this rugged unknown shore. 
 
 Through every changing fateful scene, 
 My native home, thy woods, thy bowers, 
 
 Thy smiling fields so fresh and green. 
 
 They're with me still each evening lone, 
 In battle's march, or stormy i-ea, 
 
 1 hear my Mary sigh and moan, 
 I meet her near the trysting tree. 
 
 " Back to thy shores and silvery foam, 
 O'er surging seas I'll gladly ride ; 
 
 Until I reach my happy home, 
 
 Wheie I'll remain whate'er betide." 
 
 Blessed with a bride, in love I'll live. 
 Nor ever tempt a falling tear, 
 
 But henceforth all my thoughts I'll giye 
 To what can please my i\Jary dear. 
 
 Encore ! Another Song. 
 
 SOLDIER'S SONG. 
 
 There's health on the mountains when wild breezes blow ; 
 There's life in the fountains whei e pure waters flow ; 
 There's beauty in wild woods when forest flowers glow, 
 ^nd the sweetest of wild fruit tangs under the bough.
 
 53 
 
 The fox-alove, the tulip, the poppy, may flare, 
 
 The rose and the lily may scent the glad air, 
 
 But the daisy and voilet are fairest I vow, 
 
 For the sweetest of wild fruit hangs under the bough. 
 
 Though eagles mount upwarl to gaze ou the sun, 
 And peacocks may flaunt in the colours of noon, 
 Yet the mavis or blackbird and linnet I trow, 
 Are the sweetest of songsters that hang on the bough. 
 
 Wit, learning, ambition, may tower in their pride, 
 While riches and beauty look downto deride ; 
 But worth that is humble ana modest I know — 
 Like the sweetest of wild fruit hangs under the bough. 
 
 Cities, palaces, towers may flaunt and look fair, 
 
 And mountains shoot upward to darken the air ; 
 
 But mine be a cot in the valleys below, 
 
 Nenv the woods where the wild fruit hangs under the bough. 
 
 A queen may be gracious, a noble serene, 
 
 A lady delightful, though haughty of mien ; 
 
 But a maid of the village is sweetest, I vow, 
 
 For the best of the wild fruit hangs under the bough. 
 
 Scene the same. 
 
 Camp in darkness — sentinel at his post. Time mid- 
 night — moonlight. 
 
 Enter Sir Rupert the Peerless, and Col. Fairweather. 
 
 Sentinel. "Who goes ? now stay and give us first 
 thesign . 
 
 Sir R. and Col. F. The Queen ! the Queen ! 
 
 Sentinel. Advance — the countersign is our great 
 Chief. 
 The camps are all in darkness save yon one 
 Wherein is lodged our Chief,
 
 64 
 
 Sir E. Airs -well — brave sentinel, be but discreet 
 And look for us as we return this way, 
 But sleep not at thy post, for we are now 
 Upon the soil of a most wakeful foe, 
 Keep watch until the stars begin to pale, 
 Then sound the loud reveille, arouse the drum 
 That calls us all to arms. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 Another part of the Camp. Time — early morning. 
 
 Sill E. to Col. F. — Lo : all is safe, now will we 
 seek our tent 
 And take a few short hours of sweet repose, 
 But go thou now, before us in advance 
 ^'M' all the field and pilot out the Avay, 
 Negotiate with the people of the land 
 (iauge all our dangers, weigh each wild report 
 Sifting what's true irom shadowy, false and strange, 
 Take with thee wise, experienced, stalwart men, 
 With scouts and spies ; but let their conduct be 
 True and unswerving, merciful and just. 
 We war, not with the meanest savage tribe. 
 Our way lies always through each chiefs goodwill, 
 And honest deeds, unto Maragdah's Fort, 
 We war with him — the tyrant of this land, 
 To break his power, and set our people free. 
 Let no base deeds of lust or ruthless power, 
 Mark our advance ; concilate every foe. 
 Save one — the King — for him will I account 
 Unto my Queen. Good Night ! 
 
 Farewell ! Adieu ! 
 
 Col. F. Farewell, great chief, for_ so shall I 
 obey,
 
 S5 
 
 As I do hope to see my native land, 
 Or if I fall, to meet again above. 
 
 (They embrace.) Exeunt. 
 
 Camp, Morning. — Preparing for the Review. 
 
 Enter Messenger from Virtmsa, the Queen. (To left.) 
 
 Enter Messenger from Col. Fairweather. (To right.) 
 
 Enter Soldiers, with Spies, as Prisoners, captured hy Colonel 
 Fairweather. Soldiers drawn up for Parade. Enter Sir 
 Rupert, on horseback, sunounded by his Staff. Bugle 
 sounds. Sir Rupert reviews and addresses the army. 
 
 Sir Rupert. Soldiers of England, and our 
 Gracious Queen, 
 We start on our most glorious march, to-day ; 
 This our advance, through unknown rugged wilds, 
 Through mountain passes, defiles, yawning deep, 
 With rocky chasms, dried-up forgotten streams. 
 Stretching far hence for full five hundred miles, 
 And o'er the tups of hills that scale the clovids, 
 Shall yet be famed beyond the lasting praise, 
 Which justly hales that illustrious host. 
 And him who led them safe to Euxine's sea ; 
 Now gird your loins ; let each rejoice to-day 
 That fate hath called him to this arduous war, 
 Better one day with this our valiant host 
 Than years' of ease in pensioned pomp at home, 
 We march right on, resistless to avenge 
 Our country's honour 'gainst a daring foe. 
 This tyi'ant Negus — King of Kings — whose sway 
 Is blasting as the Upas tree, whose shade 
 Is fateful, withering, wheresoe'er it falls : 
 Our countrymen who linger there in -chains,
 
 56 
 
 We go to plack as brands from out his fre, 
 Which Hke the senseless element consumes 
 Alike both friend and foe — we go to set them free. 
 No plunder shall disgrace our countiy's arms, 
 Soldiei-s of our most glorious island home, 
 And ye who fought in Indian lands with me, 
 And you my trusty chiefs, upon you all, 
 On each depends our honour and success. 
 Think of the deeds your sires in warlike fields 
 Ere now have done ; Richard at Ascalon, 
 And ye of Belgium, we of Delhi too, 
 And those who toiled 'neath India's blazing sun, 
 Who scaled the rampai'ts and dispersed the foe 
 That howled round Lucknow as hyaenas howl 
 And thirst for human blood ; behold to-day 
 We start upon as great as good a strife 
 As each I name. Let now the sanctity 
 Of country's love, of valour, and of right 
 Xerve every arm, and fire each soldier's breast. 
 Call up each name of power, each valiant deed, 
 Time hath emblazoned on our country's fame ; 
 Let every soldier feel himself a chief. 
 Let every leader now aspire to serve ; 
 Let strong endurance bind us all in one ! 
 The sense of this great service nobly done, 
 Shall leave its light upon all future time. 
 Yet let obedience be your safety now, 
 "For valour here to discipline must yield, 
 Patience to-day, like courage in the field 
 Shall meet witli due observance and reward. 
 Reflect how England trusts in you to-day — 
 Behold the eyes of every clime and land — 
 And hers, the Queen are turned upon this host ; 
 Yea, and His eye, that Kke yon gorgeous sun
 
 57 
 
 Is never dimned by slumber or by sleep, 
 
 Now looks approving from His heavenly seat, 
 
 And as we act in purity, so He 
 
 Will bless our arms and grant us peace and rest, 
 
 When labours o'er, the prisoners all released. 
 
 And our just vengeance poured upon the foe, 
 
 We shall return to gladden England's eyes. 
 
 To stretch our limbs, and gain our meed of praise. 
 
 Leaving our deeds for iuture fame to tell, 
 
 How well ye fought, how great Maragdah fell. 
 
 Behold the morning sun, roll out the drum. 
 Hurl forth the meteor flag upon the breeze. 
 And cry all hail the Queen ! 
 
 Hurrah ! hurrah ! hui^ah ! 
 
 (Curtain falls.) 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene II. — Court at Gondahr. 
 
 Time, early morning. —Same day as last act. 
 
 Zoluman is seen alone at his palace gates, at mornin* 
 prayers, in plain undress ; his head ^bared, his hair 
 platted, and himself looking very sad and fierce, 
 his eyes bloodshot, as after a night's carouse. 
 
 ZoL. Now will we in and face our court to-day, 
 And see what news these messengers do bring. 
 
 Enter Zoluman, with Amissa, the Queen ; Zarafa, Bishillo, 
 the Mussulman High Priest ; Arrama, the Abouna, or 
 High Priest, ^Christian); Istafar, Courtieis, V\omen, 
 Guards, &c, 
 
 Zoluman and Amissa seated on the throne. 
 
 Enter Istafar, leadinij forward a European Messenger, with 
 a letter from " Virtuosa," Queen of the Isles and the Sea. 
 The King reads the letter and seems gratified.
 
 58 
 
 Enter Second MesFenger -with letter from the Court and 
 Empei or of Frankistan, written by a chief of that Court 
 The King reads, seems elated with these embassies, but 
 a cloud is on his brow. 
 
 ZoL. All hail, great servant of your gracious 
 Queen, 
 Come near, accept rewards and praise from us, 
 Be ever near, we count you as our friend, 
 And pay to you the thanks we owe the Queen. 
 
 Consul 0. then sits at the right hand of the King and Queen, 
 
 The King continues. 
 But unto you from Frankistan, the fair, 
 What thanks we give are to your person due, 
 For faithful services so well performed 
 Deserve reward ; but here my praise must end. 
 We sent an embassy unto your King, 
 Writ by ourselves, who are the King of Kings, 
 And destined yet to conquer every land. 
 His too, who now (forgetful of that grace 
 Which holds its seat within the breast of Kings,) 
 Hath after long and insolent delays 
 Dispatched a message by his servant's pen. 
 Now deigns to give reply to our commands, 
 Dispatched to him with every honour due. 
 The time is come when we must teach these 
 
 Kings 
 To know they live but by our clemency. 
 Retire ! oh Frank ! and let your master know 
 We will not so be served. 
 
 Exit M. Le Jean. 
 Enter Messenger with important dispatches, led by Zarafa. 
 Zar. Oh powerful sovereign ! son of Soluman, 
 We bring you news of great and dread import ;
 
 News of an army landed on your shores. 
 From her the Qneen of all the isles and. seas 
 
 Zoluman reads the dispatches, then in great rage and 
 perturbation calls Istafar. 
 
 ZoL. Haste, take fresh troops, and swift, at 
 
 once pursue 
 Those white-faced, traitors, our most deadly foes, 
 Swift — bring them back, and place them all in 
 
 chains. 
 And you. Sir Consul, we must safely guard, 
 As hostage for your Queen. 
 
 Enter the deposed Queen Zamira leading her boy 
 Alamayou 
 
 Zam. Great lord and king, dread Sovereign of my 
 soul. 
 Sire of my boy, we henceforth bid adieu 
 To all these scenes of pomp and evil power, 
 Long have I mourned upon my widowed lied 
 These guilty acts, which prey upon the laud, 
 Once smiling land, a happy chosen place 
 VVhere peace and plenty crowned each peasant's luiide, 
 Each chief contented, and my glorious king 
 Was powerful, calm and great — his sacred throne 
 Seem fixed as are the eA^er changeless stars, 
 While I your Queen, forgetful of the name, 
 Lived in your greatness and enjoyed yoin- joy 
 And dreamt of bliss as when some cottage maid 
 Sings at her wheel, or as she tends her shefj), 
 When all the while the wolf is in the ibid; 
 Now towns do blaze and homes are f^cattered lar 
 The poor now fly to every mountain height. 
 The valleys swim and reek with human gore, 
 The dungeons iull, the land is all awaste
 
 60 
 
 And foreign armies of the insulted Queen 
 Are marching onward to your central fort 
 Even Maragdah ! while the King of Kings, 
 Forgetful of his vows and all the realm 
 Spends the long night in orgies deep andfou^, 
 Traitors for friends and concubines for wives, 
 Dark evil gathers like the gathering clouds 
 Before the storm ; while friends have fled away, 
 I too must go, ere break my woimded heart. 
 Haste from your sight and hide me evermore. 
 I lived but for your greatness and your love 
 Now that they're lost, I go away and die 
 Farewell great king, farewell. 
 
 Exeunt Zainira and Son. 
 
 Zoluman highly disturbed looks on the face of Amissa 
 cloudily, and on all the court, which is much moved by 
 the scene. 
 
 Enter 1st. My Lord and King the prisoners all 
 are safe. 
 
 ZoL. Oh Istafar, my trusty chief and friend, 
 And you Zarafa, and ye sacred priests. 
 Attend ! give ear ! and lend your aid to-day. 
 Call up my troops, select a thousand slaves, 
 Let them go first and make a great highway, 
 O'er every valley, crag, and mountain peak. 
 From here unto Maragdah' s Sacred Fort. 
 Bring up my guns, and mules, and arms, and men, 
 With all my powerful implements of war. 
 You Istafar, see all the prisoners slain, 
 Except those dastard white-faced foreign foes. 
 We are the King, we'll reach Maragdah's Fort 
 Before the chief who now insults our land ; 
 There will we give him battle and defeat, 
 And keep the prisoners, till herself — the Queen
 
 Gl 
 
 Shall come and sue mcst humbly at our feet, 
 And beg to set them free. See it be done, 
 Then call my favourite steed — my Queen, adieu ! 
 Ye pnefets, ye chiefs, and courtiers, lare-you-\\ell 
 Exit the King. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene HI. — On the Military Highway near to 
 Maragdah. 
 
 Enter Zoluman in converse with Zarafa and other Chiefs. 
 
 ZoL. Our way is nigh complete, call Istafar, 
 I wish to see the white-fice prisoners now ; 
 Were it not that they best construct our guns. 
 They all should die to-day. 
 
 1st. Dread Sovereign Lord, and King of all the 
 tribes, 
 My charge is well nigh o'er, the Fort's in view, 
 And all the prisoners safe — yet each one seems 
 Buoyed up with hope, for they have heard the 
 
 news 
 Of this insensate mad attempt at war 
 Against yoa sovereign power, by their own Qaeen. 
 
 ZoL. What of my Queen, is she still in your 
 care ? 
 
 1st. She is dread sovereign — much against her 
 Avill, 
 But she is sick and constant prays for death ; 
 Since you refused her wish to seek her home, 
 She keeps in strict seclusion in her tent, 
 Pining away as doth the prisoned bird,
 
 62 
 
 For want of air and wing. Pray let hor go. 
 
 ZoL. (Iq great rage) She shall not go, e'en let 
 her pine and die. 
 If t be our will — like our great ancestor 
 We'll have a thousand wives, and each shall be 
 Submissive, kind, and friendly to the rest ; 
 Call up the prisoners, let them be chastised, 
 And all of native tribes, give o'er to death ; 
 See it be done ere mom, when we shall be 
 Safe with our armies iu Maragdah's fort 
 xYway, obey, if you yourself would live. 
 
 Exit Istafor. 
 
 Zar. Dread Sovereign lord, and King of mighty 
 Kings 
 We now have reached the fort o'er this highway ; 
 A mighty way that for a thousand years 
 Shall still exist to tell the wondrous tale 
 Of your dread prowess and our feats in arms ; 
 Yet would I plead lor these poor prisoners now, 
 I do beseech you let these white men go. 
 And spare yon wretches of the Wallah tribe, 
 And cease to revel and delight in blood. 
 Call up your former self, the King I knew, 
 A king the most in grace of self-control, 
 In continence and chastity, a King ; 
 Though heice in war, in peace a soft gazelle, 
 In justice and in wisdom — Kinir of Kings. 
 Be thus a king : remember too the while 
 This gi-eat highway hath cost a thousand lives. 
 While the sad news hath reached me from afar 
 The powerful troops of your dread foe, the Queen 
 Are at Dalanta ; scarce a fortnight's march 
 From our oAvn camp, yet all this great emprise
 
 63 
 
 Here at our doors upon a foreign shore 
 Have tliey accomplished without loss of life ; 
 Oh had those nights we passed in drunken joys 
 Been only spent in fighting with the foe, 
 Had we but harassed them, and turned those tribes 
 (So friendly now) tofieixe and hostile foes, 
 Not ten times such a force, nor twice ten years. 
 Nor all their power, could reach Maragdah's fort. 
 Now while our path is built with human bones 
 Theirs is as clear as the most peaceful way 
 In their own land, which once a time had been 
 Strewn with their bones, a mighty holocaust, 
 A tower so high no streams might wash away. 
 Nor wasting time should crumble't to decay. 
 But now they're at your gates — arise oh King, 
 Prepare for war — or sue for lasting peace, 
 Collect your friends, restore your rightful Queen, 
 Dismiss Amidsa and her treacherous tribe, 
 And be again the King that once I knew, 
 And all shall yet be well throughout the land ; 
 If not, I fear me, that their foremost gun 
 Will be the knell of all youi' power and state. 
 Yet be it so, I knew you, as a boy, 
 Lived in your life, and shared your grief, your joy 
 And nought save death shall ever part us now. 
 
 ZoL. (groaning) Oh my most faithful, ti-usty, 
 no1)le friend, 
 Leave me awhile — I would be now alone, 
 To think on what you say. 
 
 Exit Zarafa, 
 Zoluman in great grief. Curtain falls. 
 
 ACT in. 
 
 Scene IV and last. — Maraordah.
 
 64 
 
 The Army all safe — the Guns in positioi—ani the Fort ready 
 
 fur a Siege. 
 
 Zoluman, Amissa, Zarafa, 1st n far, the Two Priests, Courtiers, 
 Concubines, Guards, ^'c. 
 
 ZoL. Now we are safe within this sacred fort, 
 Ourselves, our troops, our store of guns prepared. 
 This is Ramadan and a time of fast 
 With yonder pale-faced foes ; but it shall be 
 To us a time of feasting and of mirth. 
 My troops have toiled aloni! the burning march. 
 And they — as we — and all have need of rest ; 
 80 will we feast for half this new born moon, 
 And then prepare for deeds of mighty war. 
 
 Bis. (Priest of Islam.) "We do approve your 
 Highness's just resolve, 
 The Prophet gives to all a time to feast. 
 
 Arr. All powerful King, the troops have need 
 of rest. 
 But feasting chimes not with approaching war. 
 
 Zar. Dread Lord and King, I've read in tales 
 of old, 
 Of one who sprang from this our noble land, 
 W ho wari'cd Avith Rome and shook its very gates. 
 Scattering its arms as chaff before the wind, 
 And slew its troops on each contested field, 
 Spoiling the spoilers of the then known world, 
 And all but took and captured mighty Rome, 
 Which he but lost by feasting and by sloth. 
 Sapping the courage of his matchless braves. 
 Keed we remind you too of Babylon, 
 Which Cyrus took amidst a wild debauch, 
 "^Vo do beseech yon read the lesson well.
 
 65 
 
 ZoL. What says our lovely Queen and frieiids so 
 fair, 
 The matchless stars that shine around our throne 
 Shall we have reirth ? or like poor ancliorites 
 Turn this strong fort into a hermitage V 
 
 Amissa We would that all should have due share 
 of mirth, 
 Of rest and feasting, yet in just control ; 
 But every chiefi and we, and you the King, 
 A nd these our holy priests, it most becomes 
 To keep ourselves aloof and on our guard 
 Afjainst all foes in feastingf or in war. 
 Full ol't insidiously the poisoned cup 
 Unstrings the soldier's arm, the chieftain's brain, 
 And wisdom of tlie King : be then advised 
 Let moderation l)e vour wise command, 
 T)ie foe is near, we must prepare for war. 
 
 Courtiers and Soldiers clamourously, 
 Who is the foe ? he fears us —let him come 
 We will have mirth and joy and ease and rest 
 And when he comes we'll send our wives to tight 
 'J'here is no need of men to meet such foes. 
 On with the feast, let us have mirth and joy. 
 
 Zor.. Dismiss the court, with this our firm decree 
 A seven days feast with plenteous mirth and wine 
 ]*"or all the troops and all my taithful chiefs, 
 We will he guardians of the Fort meanwhile 
 With our most sacred hand of mystic signs, 
 Zarafa aiding with his watchful eyes. 
 
 Excnnt. 
 Court breaks vp in disorder. All prepare for feastfUjf. 
 ¥
 
 66 
 Scene. — The Fort Mai'anrdah, 
 
 o 
 
 Sixtii night of Feasting — Tent of the Priest Bishinc 
 
 CONSPIRATORS. 
 
 Enter Istafar, Safara, Misalla, the Witch ; Zarafa,disguised as 
 a slave — unknown. 
 
 Bis. The time of feastinsf now is far advanced, 
 And he, the King i& well within our power. 
 
 1st. The Queen, Amissa, for her private ends, 
 Hath sworn to lead him safe within our toils. 
 And then to fly with me. 
 
 BiSHiLLO. I know not how he'll meet this storm 
 of war. 
 But if I see the foe will yet prevail. 
 We will call in the treacherous northern tribes, 
 And you, Safarn, for our holy faith 
 Have sworn to lend the aid of all your arts 
 To hold him prisoner in his secret tower*, 
 V\ hereto ye oft resort ; until we bring 
 The terms each side will jrrant — the strangers firsi 
 And then that chief, the King's insatiate foe ! 
 Be wary now we meet again fall soon 
 ^Mthin this tent wlien evening shades prevail. 
 Jjet each be firm, discreet, to Allah true 
 Then if the King destroy or be destroyed 
 Dupe his b(;trayers or be self-betrayed 
 Meet his lust fate or yet be King of Kings : 
 Still I sliall rule, and our most holy faith 
 Our nujKrpics and domes, oar towers and minarets 
 Shall rise and shine throughout this holy land 
 Fair as the c.ejcent n.oon, most beauteous aigo.
 
 67 
 
 Which ever grows ! so these shall still increase 
 And Allah and his prophet rule the world. 
 
 MiSALLA. (sorceress) Ah much I ffear the King 
 will yet elude 
 Our deepest plots, and well-laid schemes at last ! 
 Thrice hath he now at the lone midnight hour, 
 Watched with me thus, to hear and read the star;*, 
 And thrice hath sought within the Book of Fate, 
 To know the issue of these various toils ; 
 Yet still he clings to that accursed faith, 
 Of those pale faced invaders of the land — 
 And still he calls on Issa and believes 
 That he through Him shall conquer all the lauds, 
 And be what he so vauntingly is called, 
 The sovereign Negus and the King of kings. 
 
 Bis. Well we shall see, meanwhile let us adjourn, 
 Until arcturus shine again to-night. 
 Till then, farewell ! farewell ! 
 
 Exeunt Conspirators. 
 
 Same fort early morning. 
 
 Seventh day. 
 Zar. (solus) 'Tis well ! at length 'tis well ! 
 The hour that ends this deep debauch is come, 
 'Tis time to rouse the King, if not in vain. 
 When disaffection like a leprous sore. 
 Eats out the courage of his valiant host, 
 While treason lurks within the palace walls 
 And sloth consumes the army's strencth away, 
 Aud yet he sleeps I though the fierce northern foe, 
 Js at his uates, a wary dauntless foe, 
 That like the hunter round the Lion King, 
 Hath laid his coils aud waits to make the spring
 
 68 
 
 Which ends this mighty struggle, so do these 
 
 Advance incessant as the tidal sea, 
 
 Type of their povver, their rage, and constancy. 
 
 Ah now I see their columns streak the morn, 
 
 I hear their trnmpet's blast upon the air, 
 
 And that first gnn. — 'Now must I rouse the King, 
 
 " The foe is near, awake most mighty King I " 
 
 " Awake, the foe is near ! " 
 
 ZoL. Thanks good Zarafa, wouLd tLat mine own 
 eyes 
 Had first beheld these daring haughty foes ; 
 Eouse up the army, let each chief prepare, 
 See to the gates, we will endure the siege, 
 And laugh while they shall beat against this rocl? 
 In maddening rage, as impotent and vain 
 As waves upon a grim and iron bound shore. 
 
 Zar. Great King beware .' trust not too much 
 in war, 
 Thy troops may fail thee in the deadly breach, 
 Thy chiefs may stand aloof; for I have seen 
 "Wli£),t treasons oft do lurk around a throne. 
 Hid by its blaze as spots are in the sun. 
 Or fatal rifts beneath the solid ground. 
 Trust not in Istafar, nor trust Amissa Queen, 
 Nor in Bishillo, nor his wicked tribe. 
 Their magic glass — consulted offc- — deceives. 
 Come and consult the one I hold to view, 
 Take up this robe all travel stained and worn. 
 We are two pilgrims bound for Mecca's shrine ; 
 But let the King keep silence — I will speak. 
 Fear not their eyes can pierce through oar disguise, 
 The })our i^ pome, firiso great King avid see,
 
 69 
 
 Tent of the Conspirators. 
 Evening. 
 
 Unter Bishillo, Misalla, Istafar, Amissa, Chiefs and 
 Concubines. 
 
 The King and Zarafa as two holy pilgrims, bring news from 
 Mecca, are allowed shelter and rest. They feign sleep 
 and repose while all the treachery is unfolded, after- 
 wards they withdraw and night comes on. 
 
 Zarafa and the King in their own Tent watch through the 
 night, then arrives the morn. 
 
 Zoluman in great rage and high action. 
 
 Now let the trumpet sound, and strike tlie gong, 
 
 Now make the cannon's long neglected throat, 
 
 Speak from each tower and echo to the hills. 
 
 Arouse the troops, we in our royal state 
 
 Will straight review them and prepare for war. 
 
 The foe comes on, but there are foes within 
 
 That first shall feel my sword ; let every chief 
 
 Who comes not promptly at our bugle call, 
 
 Be fast immured within our dungeons deep, 
 
 With the false priest, those traitors and the Queen ; 
 
 Let all the rest be taken to that gorge 
 
 Upon the left, and slaughtered in the sun, 
 
 Then hoist our flag of war, that well-known flag ! 
 
 Which never floats but when its pennons' show 
 
 We rush to victory, or prepare to die. 
 
 Thrice in our reign this banner now has been, 
 
 Presage of conquest, and our foes defeat j 
 
 High let it float within the morning air. 
 
 To flaunt our foreign foes, while traitors see 
 
 In it their death doom and our victory. 
 
 Scene — ^Camp of the Invaders at the foot of the 
 
 hills around Maragdah.
 
 70 
 
 Sir Rupert. Brave troops of England, and onr 
 glorious Queen, 
 Your toilsome march is o'er — the fort's in view, 
 And by yon flag and the loud cannon's roar, 
 And by all martial sounds our foes awake, 
 And means to give us battle — nor will cry 
 For quarter ; but sans merci he will die 
 Or win the battle 'gainst our utmost force. 
 So now prepare, we meet no common foe, 
 We give no terms, we seek the full release 
 Of all the prisoners, and in England's name, 
 Intend to hurl from his accursed seat, 
 This tyrant King, qnd from yon vaunting fort, 
 Seize every gun noi leave one stone on stone ; 
 Nought but a blackened ruin shall remain, 
 To mark our vengeance for his guilty crimes. 
 
 Enter Messengers in great haste — Istafar and Amissa have 
 escaped and fly to Sir Kupert for protection. — Zoluman 
 and Zarafa pursue them but think it prudent to return. 
 
 Scene — Camp in Maragdah. 
 
 ZoL. Are all the traitors and the prisoners slaia? 
 Call up the white faced people and my fi-iend 
 The Consul Cameron and the learned Pridieu, 
 Scud them with presents meet unto the chief, 
 And greetings due, and ask his terms withal. 
 
 Enter messenger to say — 
 
 The foreign troops are coming up the steep, 
 And may be met in ambush and be slain. 
 
 ZoL. (walking on the fort with Zarafa) 
 To arms Zarafa ! call up my bravest troops. 
 Send forth two thousand of our sacred band 
 Against the foe, and let our mortars play.

 
 71 
 
 Upon their 'fenceless flanks ! this is the day 
 Our foes shall bite the dust. 
 
 Troops file out before the King — he cheers them on with hcpet of 
 certain victory — They return scattered and flying — One 
 thousand slain and one thousand five hundred wounded and 
 prisoners. — The King in consternation and dispair, call 
 forth various chiefs, by name , but the reply is all are dead 
 or taken — He then gives orders to clear ifie fort and 
 prepare to stand the Siege. 
 
 Camp in Maragdah. 
 (The King in great griefj 
 
 Enter Messengek. Behold my Lord and King 
 your lovely Queen, 
 Emaciate lies within the arms of death, 
 Now the dread wings of Azrael upward poised, 
 Wait but their bui-tlien ere he soar away ; 
 But yet she cannot die, — she calls the King, 
 And then she murmurs of her childhood's days, 
 One time she tends her father's flocks at home, 
 And then she raves of serpents — rivals too, 
 Seeing Amissa and Safara's forms, — 
 In thousands round her bed — ^yet all her cry 
 Is still, the King ! which will not be effaced. 
 
 ZoL. Say I ^T.11 come — in death, you say — in 
 death ; 
 Kay not in deatli — in life — for life is death. 
 We all die hei'e — but see ! that sight ! oh see ! 
 
 Enter the bodies of one hundred chiefs to be buried in fche 
 centre of Maragdah. 
 
 Camp of the Invaders. 
 Sir Kupert standing.
 
 72 
 
 tsTAPAR. I offer you tlie easy conquest now, 
 If wo hereafter may be King and Queen. 
 
 Sir R. I make no terms with traitors, and wers 
 you 
 Sent here with due credentials from the King, 
 We have no wish to settle who shall rule, 
 We come for justice and shall leave the land 
 To Him omnipotent who rules the world. 
 
 Exeunt Istafar and Amissa. 
 Enter Consul Cameron Messrs. Flada and Pridieu. 
 
 Dk. p. All hail great chief, ye men from England 
 hail ! 
 Now beats our heart with triumph and with joy, 
 'Till joy burst out in teare ; each face and form. 
 These tents, those arms, yea, and the very dogs 
 And the poor beasts so patient at the door. 
 Are blessed in our sight: the cannon's roar 
 Was music in our ears ; its precious sound 
 So wrought upon our fast decaying strength. 
 That sweet oblivion like a gentle dream 
 Shut out all sight, all sounds, all sense awhile ; 
 But now we come great chief, from him, the Kinf , 
 To know what terms you offer or demand, 
 To quit this soil and leave the King in peace ? 
 
 SiK R. All hail great consul of our gracious 
 
 Queen, 
 And ye most patient sufferers in her cause ; 
 We and our host, yea and our country too, , 
 Rejoice to find you yet in life and well. 
 Make haste, therefore, lest the last hour should 
 
 lose, 
 What years of patience and this toilsome march 
 Have placed within our grasp ; go to the King,
 
 ?3 
 
 Grivc him this message from our sovereign Quecii, 
 
 That all the prisoners first must be transferred 
 
 Alive, unharmed, into this very tent 
 
 Upon the morn ; and then that yonder fort 
 
 Must'^be dismantled, left a barren rock 
 
 To bats and owls, and prowling wolves a prey ; 
 
 And last himself, the Kinor, must vield 
 
 A prisoner in your stead ; yet also say 
 
 He shall be treated as becomes a King. 
 
 This must he do by the next morning's sun 
 
 Rise o'er the hills, or we shall straightway comn 
 
 And tear him thence by force, and hurl him down, 
 
 Making no terms but such as suit our will. 
 
 Haste to obey, and deign not to deceive, 
 
 Such the commands of oar most sovereign Queen. 
 
 Dr. p. Farewell great chief — we hasten to obey, 
 Yet go we now unto our last assize ; 
 Farewell great host, to Eni^land say farewell, 
 The land we love, but never more shall see ; 
 Yet we obey our sovereign's righteous will, 
 Though we <iO on unto the gates of death ; 
 For as a lamb is by a lion torn, 
 So will he tear us if not God oppose. 
 
 Farewell ! Farewell ! Farewell ! 
 
 Eieunt. 
 
 Scene — Vi aragdah. 
 
 Zoluman, surrounded by the seven most faithful chiefa 
 Zarafa and the others. Zoluman sits in a mourn- 
 ing attitude over the demolition of his army, auj 
 the slaughter of his chiefs. Dead bodies in the 
 centre. Enter the three messengers, Dr. P. and 
 others — having met the prisoners on the way to 
 the invaders' camp, released through Zarafa by a 
 stratagem. Dr. P. reports from ISir Kupeit.
 
 74 
 
 Zoluman in great grief, starts up in wrath and speaks 
 ZoL. Deliver up all prisoners, with the fort ! 
 And then ourselves —yes by my fatlier's bones ! ! 
 We will give up the prisoners, send them here 
 We'll roll their heads into his very tent, 
 And ye who brings me such insulting terms 
 Were ye not sacred, ye yourselves should die, 
 Ah now, but now, we sent the prisoners Iree. 
 What would they more ? they want this fort and me ? 
 Here is the fort, these poor dead limbs and bones 
 
 (points to tlie dead) 
 
 This blood was its cement, these are the stones, 
 
 Tlie guns, the towers, each chief himself a fort, 
 
 And now behold, they lie all scattered here. 
 
 Slain as ye see them — all my sacred band 
 
 Two thousand men, a hundred sacred chiefs 
 
 As brave as great as aught in yonder host 
 
 But not so skilful in the art of war, 
 
 Which means the art of murder and of wrong ; 
 
 AVhat seek they more, let their fierce hosts now come 
 
 Like a wild troop of lions, beasts of prey 
 
 'J'hat break into a sheepfold but to find 
 
 A few dry bones and one poor bleating lamb. 
 
 ^Ty faithful chief Zarafa call my band, 
 
 And take thou charge of my last hope, my boy 
 
 >^ee to the gates, let our last flag now fly 
 
 And when the wolves are howling at the door, 
 
 Slay me! the King ! I charge thee by the signs 
 
 Of our mysterious brotherhood in arms : 
 
 ZoL. (continues solus) 
 Ah my, poor boy, and his fond mother too, 
 And her I loved who wrought me all this woe,
 
 ?5 
 
 Had I but lived to finish my caretr 
 
 I know great Issa gave me the command 
 
 To conquer and subdue this wondrous land 
 
 I know the Christ, one look from his pure eyes 
 
 Can melt the soul and purge a thousand crimes, 
 
 But all is lost through her and her false friends ; 
 
 Ah woman, woman, source of joy and woe 
 
 Thou half-way house to death, who leagues with thee 
 
 Comates with death and treads the verge oi hell. 
 
 Yet midst my rage, my passions, and my crimes 
 
 (For crimes these strangers call my mildest deeds) 
 
 I ever strove to hold the faith of God 
 
 And to subdue and civilize the land, 
 
 Now all is lost, all through this christian host 
 
 And their most pious, gracious, virtuous Queen, 
 
 A woman too, a woman there and here. 
 
 Living or dying, stay they or they fly 
 
 They still rule man, when least they seem to rule 
 
 But hence, away, these useless vain regrets 
 
 I hear the sounds of war, they come — they come. 
 
 Cannon and mortars are discharged. 
 
 They know not what they do — for all this war 
 I summon her the Queen to that dread bar 
 Of the all Just One. Well might all this war, 
 This woe, these deatlis have been averted quite, 
 By one small message from this haughty Queen. 
 
 ('Cannon U heard.) 
 
 They're at our gates! see! seel they mount the 
 
 breech ! 
 Oh ! call the guard I give but one glorious charge. 
 >ly steed ! quick ! quick ! stand by that flag ! 'tis 
 
 done!
 
 7G 
 
 ISTow, now, Zarafa, gaard my boy aiiJ bhen^ 
 
 Tliauk God 1 die amidst my faitlit'u.1 band. 
 
 I charge thee now, tlius, iii-e, aud end my life, 
 
 My flag still waves, I lived, I die, the King. 
 
 Shota hearJ — tlie Kiag falls, shot iu three places. 
 
 The Eaglish host puuvs iato Marai^lah — the chiefs staml 
 roiiail iu silence aai in pity coutouiplatiag the body of 
 the Kiug, siuiliu^ iu death. 
 
 Commotion visible — the l\x^ is tora dowi by the common 
 soldiers — the EiiLjlish Jack rua up iusteai. 
 
 Cominotioa in the ranks — a coffin is borne alonaf with the 
 remains of Zamira, the Queen^is placed beside the dead 
 body of the Ivini^ — .\luiayou. his son, (weeping but 
 proud) is held by the haud of Zaiafa. 
 
 Zxii. Now all is o'er aud this "poor bleating 
 lamb " 
 Is left defenceless 'mongst so many wolves, 
 Yet would I trust his welfare to this host 
 Of strauoe adventurous, brave and bearded mea 
 Than to the kindest chief in all the land, 
 I wdl do so, and then my work is done, 
 I'll quit me of my charge and but return 
 To place these royal bones within an urn 
 Near his poor Queen, then my last duty done 
 My life is o'er, my race is quickly run 
 I'll seek me out some corner of the land 
 Where I may die. Oh that some kindly hand 
 Would rid me of my life ! so great a King 
 So good a Queen, and such a guileless prince 
 To meet such fate, this world hath rarely seen. 
 
 END OF LAST ACT. 
 
 Curtaiu falls.
 
 ISCELLANEOUS PoEMS.

 
 l^de to , iSsq. 
 
 " Merannx atavis edite regihus." 
 
 " Oh et Presidium e( dale decus Meum. — HoRACti. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Fair as the stars, and fragrant as the rose, 
 I-i he whose virtue bids my lyre awake, 
 In praise of him whose gen'rous kindaess flows 
 Calm as a river wid'ning to a lake — 
 That sleeps beneath the shade of lofty hills, 
 Adown whose sides and craggy steeps sweet rills 
 Do feed and keep it fresh and pure — serene ; 
 While sunny slopes and pastures evergreen 
 Proclaim its worth. So he, of vvhom I sing, 
 And to whose merit I this tribute bring. 
 
 Son of great sires ! who bore the horse ensigned 
 On silver shield ere heralds entertwined 
 The rose and thistle, or the Fieur-de-lys — 
 Fair flower of France ! tlie land of chivalry ! 
 Long ere these met at Crecy or Poitiers, 
 And long ere any Norman chevalier 
 Set foot upon our soil, his house had stood 
 A loyal bulwark, noble, wise, and good. 
 Within the land of mountain and of flood. 
 Land of brave deeds, once Caledonia wild. 
 Stern nurse of freedom, freedom's fivourite child, 
 Mother of heroes and of virtuous sons, 
 Like him on whom my grateful tribute runs 
 In ardent strains, yet all too weak to tell 
 Of half his worth — what muse could --innr it well r 
 But lest my song oS'end his modest ear. 
 Or lead me onward out of truth severe, 
 I'll sink my numbers to a shorter swell. 
 And tax my lyi'e but half his worth to tell.
 
 80 
 
 PAKT II. 
 
 Fair and erect as lofty pine, 
 
 That sways around thy shores, Lochfine, 
 
 The hero of my song hath stood, 
 
 Serenely great, serenely good, 
 
 Alone — as hermit in his cell, 
 
 ( )r Alchemist with crucible ; 
 
 He with the thouL'hts of mighty dead 
 
 A life of calm repose hath led. 
 
 Teaching his soul the wealth that springs 
 
 From wisdom and from hidden things. 
 
 Which they and only they explore 
 
 Who seek for trnth in classic lore. 
 
 And from such founts as these he drew 
 
 Deep draughts of joy and wisdom too, 
 
 That old experience did attain 
 
 "To something like prophetic sti'ain." 
 
 Yet like the luscious liee that dwells 
 
 Within the hive of honcy'd cells, 
 
 He, the just worth of \ve:ilth could gauge, 
 
 Within his golden hermitaire — 
 
 His hermitaire a mansion fair, 
 
 "/« cuinitute Lancaster." 
 
 In times of riot he could be 
 Brave as a knight of chivalry ; 
 In times of dearth, like one of old, 
 A safe retreat for help untold, 
 A store house sure for grain or gold. 
 In times perplexed his wisdom stood 
 A beacf)n o'er the stormy flood, 
 Lit with a radiance all his own, 
 Which tor the people's safety shone. 
 In times of sorrow and distress — ■ 
 Of Uagar in the wilderness,
 
 81 
 
 Or Rachael weeping for lier own, 
 When lamina rased tlirous,4iout the town- 
 He daily gave till midnight hour, 
 His utmost aid to help the poor 
 In time of need ; nor did lie spare 
 His wealth, but scattered everywhere, 
 Till seasons smiled and skies were fair. 
 
 Then when these duties all were done, 
 (As linvers shut in at set of sun) 
 He to his mansion would repair, 
 To drink fresh (hmights of wisdom there, 
 From mi<!;hty tomes of sages hoar, 
 A vestal priest of learned lore. 
 Poet, historian, jurist, he. 
 With works of art and sorcery. 
 Wrought by some fairy's magic wand, 
 Solaced his soul — or, book in baud. 
 Beguiled the hours till evening chime 
 Dissolved his cares in dreams sublime- 
 Dreams of some mighty good which he 
 Would do to our posterity. 
 
 For acts of kindness done in store. 
 The poor unseen oft bless his door ; 
 His door, whose steps are dint and worn 
 By feet of outcasts, faint, forlorn ; 
 Poor wretches ! heirs of grief and pain ! 
 W'ho seek his aid, nor seek in vain. 
 E'en thus— while cares oppress his mind 
 He still is gentle meek and kind. 
 
 See von worn minstrel (as of yore 
 Through his own deeds) distressed and poor, 
 Here iinds a shelter and a friend. 
 And still shall find till life shall end ; 
 While men of genius and of fame. 
 He'll fan their gentlest sparks to flame.
 
 82 
 
 How oft have I when cares oppressed, 
 In him found all my griefs redressed ; 
 His timely aid upheld my soul. 
 Sustained me till I saw the goal 
 " That shines afar " on Mount of Fame, 
 Whereon's inscribed his hallowed name. 
 Then rise my muse, his praises sing, 
 The Good Man greater than a king, 
 Is like a lesser God to me. 
 Dispensing Heaven's own bounty free— 
 An ocean fount of streams and showers, 
 A sun — which ever widely pours 
 Amongst mankind the greatest joys 
 That our Creator here employs. 
 I name him not, well known is he. 
 And may each gen'rous reader be 
 Renowned like him for charity ; 
 But whilst I live with grateful heart 
 
 I'll ever bless J. R. 1 
 
 For all that he has done for me. 
 As patron friend of Poesy. 
 
 ^ijl J^homas of ilfellwood. 
 
 Unhappy you say ! he's unhappy, 
 And yet he has got him a wife ; 
 
 He wants neither houses nor children, 
 And does not think hardly of life ; 
 
 Has friends by the dozen and hundred, 
 And is not at all given to strife. 
 
 He pays all his dues and keeps sober, 
 Is a faithful adherent to church :
 
 83 
 
 His zeal stands at charity's altar, 
 
 While others are outside the porch ] 
 
 He is honoured by all— has ambition, 
 Wit, learning, and studious research. 
 
 Then whence is the cause of his sadness ? 
 
 His coachman looks happy and gay. 
 Cracks his whip and halloos like a huntsman, 
 
 Whene'er his kind master's away ; 
 While his servants, his baliff, his keeper, 
 
 Are blithe as the larks every day, 
 
 Sir Thomas is wealthy and feted, 
 
 And yet he is poorer than he 
 Who lives neath yon thatch in the dingle^ 
 
 Half hid by the sands of the sea, 
 Who, with health, love and peace all united. 
 
 Is happy ! far happier than he. 
 
 He's a wife who is true and unswervin'T, 
 Who loves her good man of the sea ; 
 
 He has health : and the laugh of his children 
 Enchants every dell on the lea. 
 
 He has love, happy love ! round his hearthstone 
 He is happy ! as happy can be. 
 
 Wliile Sir Thomas' Lady is haughty, 
 Reserved, full of airs, and is cold. 
 
 When at first he was married and thought hfi 
 Had brought a pet lamb to his fold. 
 
 Oh happier this Baron so doughty, 
 
 IJad he slept on the moor and the wolJ.
 
 84 
 
 She wolf from the wold had been kinder 
 The Evil one's daughter more true ; 
 
 She was not even " off with the old love, 
 Before she was on with the new." 
 
 True love decks the world with bright roses, 
 But false love with cypress and yew. 
 
 Oh happy the wife of yon delver, 
 Who lives in the cot by the sea ; 
 
 Sir Thomas looks out from his mansion, 
 No man is less envious than he. 
 
 And yet he would give up all Fellwood, 
 Where he half as glad-hearted as she, 
 
 Her little ones bear her true impress, 
 Have the fair Saxon locks of their sire. 
 
 While my Lady's dark brow are so odious, 
 Theii' looks rouse liis manhood's faerce ire, 
 
 He often is tempted and dreams of 
 The story of " UcAoch and Fire." 
 
 Fierce feyer now raged around Fellwood, 
 Came up to my lady's own room. 
 
 Her cliildren are tossing in madness, 
 Herself in dark gilt and deep gloom, 
 
 3ir Thomas would pawn his own mansion 
 To save the poor things from their doom. 
 
 They died and Sir Thomas is weeping, 
 
 My Lady's in grief and despair. 
 She mourns like the piues around Fellwood, 
 
 And slirieks like a ghost on the air. 
 Jf you Ktroll Fellwood grounds and its grayCT 
 yard, 
 
 ^Ij Ladv is sure to be there.
 
 85 
 
 Grtef laden and burdened by conscience^ 
 My Lady's firm reason gave way ; 
 
 She rushed through the night winds, a maniac 
 And threw herself into the sea. 
 
 As — passing the cot in the dingle. 
 
 She saw what her own home might be. 
 
 Now Sir Thomas is wifeless and lonely, 
 Herself and her race swept away ; 
 
 While yon cot in the dingle seems only, 
 Less fair than a palace might be. 
 
 There is gloom round the mansions of FelK 
 wood, 
 There is paace in the cot by the sea. 
 
 ^ 3^H0i> of Mater|. 
 
 The Ancient Philotophers said water was the origin of all thirtya. 
 
 A water drop fell from the mountain's brow. 
 Fell with the stream to the depths below 
 'Twas lost in the tarn 'neath the shady brake 
 Where the mountain arid red deer their night covert 
 
 make 
 Ere they rouse with the morn to swim over the lake, 
 As the pearly drop fell it said " I shall rise 
 (Ja my golden wings yet'' and shall sail through the 
 
 skies. 
 
 For I am the first drop of water that fell 
 From Gerizim's height into Israel's well, 
 I moistened the lips of that wayfaring man, 
 Then backward with joy to its depths I ran. 
 For I cool'd his thirst and I lengthen the spaa 
 Of the life of each one whose lips I may lave, 
 I hide or I soothe their lone path to the grave.
 
 86 
 
 But yet once again in that well I was found, 
 To its lowermost depths from its topmost round 
 I heard that voice and I looked in those eyes 
 Which I heard and I saw when He built the glad 
 
 skies 
 And the sun and the earth, then in ecstasies 
 As the fair Samaritan's pitcher did dip 
 I swam on its brim and I moistened His lip. 
 
 Then blest by the touch, I ascended the skies 
 And reflected the Iris glow of his eyes 
 I heightened the rainbow's colour and tone 
 (Which lately, sin clouded, had dismally shone) 
 I replenished it now by a light from His own 
 And fiweeter each song bird now sings as it sits 
 On the bough that is kissed by my cloud as it flits, 
 
 Kow henceforth I swim in that cup that is blest 
 By the hand or the lip of sweet charity prest 
 Or some " humble disciple " or sorrowing child 
 Of the earth, who by toil or by grief is made wild. 
 I was mixed in the sponge, when he saw me and 
 
 smiled, 
 And said, " it is finished," and yet once again 
 in the midst of his agonies ; prayed for such men. 
 
 Before his dread day I had wandered afar 
 ^Reflecting the tints of each varying star, 
 AVith Pompey's battalions o'er Syria's fair Isles 
 Kound the Indian Strand where the maiden smiles ; 
 While the matrons charred sinews the Junga defiles 
 Had heard the fierce African warhoop and yell, 
 Seen the village blaze by the fire light of hell.
 
 87 
 
 But for ages before I was hid in the earth 
 To metal and gem or fair flower I gave birth 
 I sank through the soil and the crumbling stone 
 Saw the nethermost fires as they belr.h & they groan 
 Heard the winds as they rave, ere the lava tide* 
 
 thrown, 
 Around the fair earth : T was hid in that cave 
 That gave to rebellious Abiram a grave. 
 
 I careered in the clouds round the towers of Ai 
 When Joshua to the spent sun answered, " Nay," 
 " Go not thou down " over Ascolon's vale 
 Till I hear of my foes and their last dying wail, 
 And tell thou to Chieftains of Moab the tale 
 That Jehovah hath triumphed and Israel can say 
 He hath crowned his people with victory to-day. 
 
 The last drop of wrath the Almighty did pour 
 From the windows of Heaven on earth's cursed floor 
 1 fell, and I covered the mountains far height 
 And I closed like a pall, the dark world from His 
 
 sight, 
 As once in dread chaos, ere rose the glad light 
 Yet 1 shone in the rainbow in Shinaar's plain, 
 "When in mercy, He vowed not to drown it again. 
 
 I swam in those tears holy Abraham poiired. 
 In pleading for Sodom before the dread Lord 
 Then in ■' waters of Marah " (by me rendered sweet) 
 And in streams ]\Ioses drew from their rocky retreat : 
 Kound that Altar when Baal was ashamed by defeat, 
 Yea, in Eden's fair rivers that watered the pound 
 All fed by the dewdrops ; e'en there was I found.
 
 88 
 
 Por I am the first drop of ■^•ater that fell 
 
 From heaven into space, as wise sages cau tell 
 
 I am the germ whence the universe rose, 
 
 Now myriads of systems obey my known law* 
 
 Existence numberless tremble and pause 
 
 ^s I fly in the clouds or mix in the spay, 
 
 Or career with the stars through the limitless way. 
 
 I bring fruitful seasons to all things below 
 
 I laugh in the stream and I flash in " the bow," 
 
 I fly in the clouds as they dance ronnd the sun. 
 
 And I murmer in brooklets that trickle and run 
 
 I ripple in waves of the sea, one by one, 
 
 I mingle in mists that encircle the moon 
 
 And I cool the parched lips of the traveller at noon. 
 
 I escape with a scream from tho mechanist's dream, 
 
 The corn I had nurtured I grind by my steam 
 
 That turns the old mill in the valley below, 
 
 And I gladden the nations wherever I go, 
 
 Bringing life, light and joy, and a health ruddy glow, 
 
 Thus eternally onward creative I fly, 
 
 Prom the earth to the sun and the stars in the sky. 
 
 The " fount of all life " and perhaps its dread close, 
 
 The witness of all things, as all from me rose 
 
 I saw the first fiar creative unfurled, 
 
 That lit the first Star and the iSun, and the World, 
 
 And I shall be there when creation is hurled 
 
 Again into chaos ; when nature undone 
 
 Shall burn at my touch as the earth by the sun 
 
 For I am the first drop of water that fell 
 
 Who created me, only, my limit can teii.
 
 g9 
 
 t^ccan Slaves. — ^ Monody. 
 
 PRELUDE. 
 
 A child of passion from my tenderest yeavs, 
 Smiling oft times, but oftner still in tears, 
 As waves that rose and fell, my hopes and feari, 
 Beyond control, 
 Disturbed my soul, 
 And sent me now to muse in woods or by the sea, 
 Forgetting all my cares in their sweet lullaby. 
 
 And as I mused I heard their grand voice say, 
 Things new — sublime — which had a wondroui 
 
 power. 
 Soothing my soul in its most passionate hour. 
 The moaning pine. 
 The stars divine, 
 And all the sounds of storm swept woods and 
 
 sea, 
 Played on my passionate soul from day to day, 
 And this the voice — this their wild witching lay. 
 
 In playful ripples that scarce rise and swell, 
 But idly murmur in the summer air, 
 (Teaching the world the impotence of care,) 
 
 We ocean waves 
 
 From sun swept caves. 
 Come lave the feet of those who love us well, 
 And shores of lands where mighty heroes dwell. 
 
 In glassy stillness and unruffled calm. 
 Where the lone sea-gull idly flaps his wing, 
 And mingles with the foamy waves that brings
 
 9a 
 
 Sweet spicy gales, 
 
 From far off vales, 
 ( Afric. or Ind.') with the luxuriant palm, 
 And groves of fragrant woods whose verj 
 breath is balm. 
 
 Neptune reposes, and the winds are still, 
 While idly surge the waves with gentle spray. 
 Like joyous children in their careless play, 
 
 Wooing the shore, 
 
 For evermore. 
 As if they fain would stay and drink their fill 
 Of crystal draughts from every stream and rill. 
 
 Slow sinks the sun, red glows the full- orbed 
 
 moon, 
 And darkly grows the dread and fateful night, 
 While Orion rises in his stormy might, 
 Yon tuneful grove, 
 Once full of love, 
 Kow mourns in mournful gusis, while all too 
 
 soon. 
 Dark ice bound winter reigns— for sultry sum- 
 mer's moon. 
 Fierce blow the gales, the surges swell and roar. 
 And forests bend beneath the fearful blast ; 
 Grand fleets and navies, impotent are cast, 
 And shattered lie, * 
 
 All helplessly. 
 On the fair strand they left in pride before. 
 The lands defence and bulwark — never more. 
 
 Such thy dread, thou changeless changing sea, 
 Thou source and end of all subhmar things, 
 (From thy dread womb what wondrous product 
 springs,)
 
 91 
 
 Endless, snblime, 
 
 Through changing time, 
 Image of Him, (in wrath or calm) whom we 
 Worship alone, and bend before in silent estacy, 
 
 Be my abode henceforth aye near the sea, 
 Where I can hear its loved and changeful voice 
 Echo my soul in grief — or playful 1 rejoice. 
 To catch the spell. 
 That answereth well. 
 Tracing in thee all lands, all sonls afar, 
 As thy bright waves reflect the evening star ; 
 So dost thou mirror forth all sights, all sounds, 
 
 to me. 
 Hence do I love thee — oh thou deep mysteriou* 
 
 sea. 
 
 4n Incident in London and Paris during the French Revolution 
 
 It grieves me as much to receive, Lady, 
 
 As it paineth you to sell. 
 These gems of the proud St. Aubrey, 
 
 Alas ! I know them well ; 
 I was bred in the Aubrey mansion, 
 Before the grand House fell. 
 
 And she — their sylph-like daughter, 
 The light of that princely home ; 
 
 An orphan ! deserted ! forsaken ! ! ! 
 She to this fate hath come. 
 
 Who seemed to be born — a princess, 
 
 And the house, enduring as Kome.
 
 92 
 
 The grandsire sleeps in la Vendee, 
 'Neath the marble columned aisle J 
 
 Her sire went down at Trafalgar, 
 He sank his ship with a smile, 
 While He, the hair of the Aubreys 
 
 (Whose soul no bribe could beguile,) 
 
 He fell 'neath the axe of a Danton, 
 With the mother, and sister, and wife, 
 
 When the streets of yon city were glutted 
 With victims of civil strife. 
 
 And she the last of the Aubreys 
 Must fly and beg for her life. 
 
 While her lover now smiles as a courtier, 
 A soldier, a Marquis dlwnneur ; 
 
 Must take the despatches to Paris, 
 Is betrothed to Eugenie Millefleurs. 
 
 Wliile they sweet saintly Princess'^St. Aubrey, 
 Is an exile, heartbroken and poor. 
 
 The Usurper sits crowned in the city, 
 
 All Europe awaiting his word ; 
 Her lover the faithless de Valois, ,, 
 
 Has pawned e'en his soul ibr a sword. 
 [_ While she — the betrothed and forsaken, 
 The weeps at thy altars, oh Lord ! 
 
 How long ! miserere et salve ! 
 
 Is the voice of her moaning and prayers. 
 While the trumpet blast tells of his triumph 
 
 Each month as they swell into years ; 
 Oh had I the aid of a vision 
 
 To soften her grief and her cares.
 
 93 
 
 But henceforth the sands of the ocean 
 
 Seem stabler than princedoms and powers; 
 
 Lo ! kingdoms dissolve as the snoAvflakes ; 
 
 New names spring like weeds among llowerfc, 
 
 And men are like beasts of the forest 
 Each one his own neighbour devours. 
 
 Ah ! heard ye the roar of tlie cannon ? 
 
 »' The army " is trampled and dying 
 The day of His vengeance now dawneth 
 
 The usurper, defeated, is flying ; 
 And the faithless, ialse-hearted de Valois 
 
 Is gasping for breath where he's lying. 
 
 She heard, and she sought out the wounded, 
 And soothes all their pain by her cares, 
 
 Her lover lay stiffened and dying. 
 His life is restored by her prayers. 
 
 His love is revived by her presence 
 And soothes all her grief and her fears. 
 
 li 
 
 Now the king is received with rejoicings 
 The nobles — their power is restored 
 
 While she, thy proud daughter St. Aubrey 
 And He of the recreant sword, 
 
 J'orgiving — repentant — united, 
 
 Kepaid for the years she was slighted, 
 Henceforth she is beloved and adored. 
 
 ?phe ^itij by the ,^ca. 
 
 J.ost in a wilderness of streets — ia world of wood 
 
 and. stone — 
 ■^orn, wandering, weary, sad of heart, forsakpi^ 
 
 and alone
 
 94 
 
 'Mong men with hearts like monuments, where no 
 
 one reads his own ; 
 "With yearnings to the Infinite, a finite speck I laj 
 'Mong scenes the world shuts out of sight, 
 'Mongst birds of prey tliat prowl by night- — 
 An outcast more than they. 
 
 Slow, through the darkness of the night, the 
 
 moments beat their chime, 
 The stars crept up from out the sea, silent, serene, 
 
 sublime. 
 While night-winds bore upon their breast the 
 
 sounds of gi'ief and crime. 
 "Wakeful, I waited for the morn, and sought the 
 silent strand ; 
 Lone: lookinj? for the line of licflit — - 
 The point where meet the day and night — 
 Where meet the sea and laud. 
 
 Grateful, I saw that wondrous change which comes 
 
 when fading night 
 Sinks into morn, and God renews the Miracle of 
 
 Light ; 
 When life awakes — when land, and sea, and cities 
 
 rise to sight — 
 Then, with the night and darkness drear, what 
 horrors melt away ! 
 As chaos once, and visions dim. 
 Sank at Creation's morning hymu, 
 So sinks the night in day. 
 
 Slow, pacing o'er the silent strand, the changeless 
 
 chan^nnf shore 
 Of the wide sea, which frightened once with its for-?' 
 
 gotten roar
 
 95 
 
 Empires decayed — as Greece, and Tyre, Carthage, 
 
 and nations hoar, 
 Whose ghosts come whispering through the shroud, 
 the cordage, and the keel 
 Of ships that seem like living things — 
 That whet their beak and plume their wings 
 To show the joys they feel. 
 
 Gone like the beasts Ihat prowl by night — the 
 
 things of sin and slime ! 
 Those human wolves that make their lair in haunts 
 
 of guilt and crime, 
 While man to laboui- issues forth with the first 
 
 morning prime. 
 High deeds of chivalry, or love of duty, or of power, 
 With thoughts that rouse the vvorld to arms, 
 Or pacify its dread alarms, 
 
 Come with the opening flower. 
 
 Men, dimly seen down vistas vast of streets in sultry- 
 gleam, 
 As motes in air — as ants in woods — an insect race 
 
 they seem ; 
 They flit, they die, are re-absorbed in that eternal 
 
 beam 
 Of light creative, myriad forms ! — each atom float- 
 ing there 
 Still feels itself the centre is 
 Of all creation's woe or bliss, 
 Its hope or its despair. 
 
 The world oblique brings grateful change of seasons 
 
 day and night ; 
 The Will oblique distorts the soul, blinded by too 
 
 much light.
 
 96 
 
 The point of Ltiinaii happiness, is still the " point 
 
 of sight," ^ 
 
 While one eternal purpose vast, grand, infinite as 
 space, 
 Yet reaching down to finite things, 
 Bev-jnd where faintest insect winp-s 
 -b lutter and leave no trace. 
 
 Atoms, or worlds, or living things, all sport in 
 
 God's bright beam — 
 I'hese roll around, those live their life — their life a 
 
 sentient gleam — 
 A joyous hour, a fitful fate, or a distorted dream ; 
 Each -wakening cry, as life rolls by: — " Things are 
 not what they seem." 
 Earth has no centre but the sun. 
 Life in its myriad foi-ms is one — 
 Not lost — absorbed in Him ! 
 
 Then lift your hearts, ye finite forms, and bathe 
 
 them in His grace — 
 Live in I J is light — all evil things shall flee and 
 
 leave no trace ; 
 Ail life created by His love shall live before His face 
 Each Will in unison — all hearts in harmony resound 
 While He (who scans creation round 
 Erom Heaven to lowest depths profound) 
 Shall hide the good within His breast ; 
 And at His side a place of rest 
 For all the Lost is found ! 
 
 Jjij Ihe fclaxjside. 
 
 A blue-eyed girl of tender years. 
 Dowered with a wealth of golden hair ; 
 A child whose face was more than fair, 
 Wti^se beauty touched my sowl to tears.
 
 97 
 
 Though she was poor she sought no alms, 
 (While others loudly swell their woes) 
 Shome round her lovely fe;ilures throws, 
 A glow that heightens all their charms, 
 
 I knew she was a pauper's child, 
 And yet so gentle and demure, 
 She seemed as lovely and as pure, 
 As nature's noblest undefilcd, 
 
 I touched her hand, I stooped to hiss, 
 (The silver in my palm seemed dross ;) 
 She blushed and turned, I — at a loss, 
 Scarce understood a soul like this. 
 
 Then as the humble group I saw, 
 
 I laid my hand upon her hair. 
 
 And blest her — murmuring in my prayer, 
 
 " Thy purity hor constant law," 
 
 Oh ! mother see (she said) 'tis He, 
 He whom I dreamed of m my dre ims ; 
 Who is so kind, and always seems 
 To take and bless me on his knee. 
 
 I pondering went — my spirit stiiTcd, 
 Asking myself " can it be so ? " 
 That 1 fe whom we so little know, 
 (Or from His life or written word) 
 
 Doth condescend to visit thus 
 The very humblest of the poor, 
 While gilded roof and sheltering door, 
 Oft hide — his pasioing by — from us. 
 H
 
 93 
 
 My labour's hard, the day is cold, 
 I'm working always in the mud, 
 
 Or lifting stones from out the mould, 
 With little thonght, and less of good. 
 
 'Tis dinner time — I eat my fare, 
 
 On waypide step some inches broad. 
 
 Without a table or a chair, 
 
 Gazed at by passers on the road. 
 
 My little girl sits by me too, 
 
 Thankful for scraps I ill can spare, 
 
 (She's all that we have left us now — 
 My heart's delight — her mother's care. 
 
 Somehow the morning seems so long, 
 Till I can see her come this way — 
 
 Panting, in haste, (she is not strong,) 
 4jid yet her coming takes away. 
 
 Half of my care, and soothes my toil ; 
 
 I work more cheerfully till night, 
 Nor want, nor care, nor stubborn soil 
 
 Can quench from out my heart her light. 
 
 Now all the day long I labour hard, 
 That she and Mary may have lest ; 
 
 And though we've always homely fared, 
 I somehow think " its all for best." 
 
 What though they'i'e drest in hodden grey, 
 And I must wear my " clouted shoou," 
 
 My fancy makes them look as gay, 
 As birds and buttercups at noon.
 
 99 
 
 So I can always keep my health, 
 And hear my birdies sing at eve, 
 
 And teach thee well, (my store, my wealth,) 
 I'll envy none, nor drink, nor grieve. 
 
 Although I am 'neath labour's ban, 
 I'll learn to bear my humble lot. 
 
 Conscious that still I am a man, 
 
 Beloved at home — though world- forgot. 
 
 For in the thick November day. 
 
 There comes across my glimmering sense, 
 Piercing its fogs — a simple ray, 
 
 That there's a time of recompense. 
 
 The poor man's child may rise to wealth, 
 For some do i-ise and some do fall : 
 
 Yet I'm content with love and health, 
 Conscious ray God remembers all. 
 
 " Oh, would I were a bird " 
 Of varied plume and wing. 
 
 How would 1 make my voice be heard. 
 How gladsome would I sing. 
 
 But which one would it be 
 If my fond wish were heard, 
 
 If fairy powers should instantly 
 Now change me to a bird ? 
 
 Would I — a nightingale, 
 Within some sacred grove. 
 
 Now warble to the moon, and wail 
 The woes of slighted love?
 
 100 
 
 Or, would my pride take wing — 
 
 My form be like the lyre : 
 My throat to southern nations sing, 
 
 And soothe their souls of fire ? 
 
 Or, grander yet — arise 
 
 In beauteous plumage shine ! 
 
 And be a bird of paradise, 
 With pinions all divine ? 
 
 Or lark ! that mounteth high, 
 At heaven's great soaring sing : 
 
 All upward drawn by ecstacy — 
 Oh, would I had its wing ! 
 
 Or, if some homelier bird — 
 
 The mavis or the thrush : 
 The cuckoo in the grove be heard, 
 
 The Unnet on the bush. 
 
 Th' inconstant swallow, I 
 
 Might imitate ; and dwell 
 For ever 'neath some sumiy sky. 
 
 And aye of summers tell. 
 
 Or, humbler and content, 
 
 A faithful robin be ! 
 (When summer's sunny hours are spent) 
 
 And prove my constancy. 
 
 In grief, a sparrow, I 
 
 Might chatter on the wall ; 
 Mourning the joys that from me fly, 
 
 When life begins to pall.
 
 101 
 
 In tears, I'd be a dove, 
 
 Aud mourn my buried mate : 
 
 Then in repentance pure, and love 
 Fly to a better state. 
 
 I'd fly and be at rest, 
 
 On " wings of morning " fly ; 
 And soothe my sad and troubled breast 
 
 In God's eternity. 
 
 How sweet is the dawning 
 
 O'er cottage and mill ; 
 The sun softly shining, 
 
 The shadows so still. 
 Dead leaves falling lightly, 
 
 No clouds on the hill ; 
 While the light creepeth onward 
 
 Through brushwood and brake. 
 And the sound of the river, 
 
 The calm of the lake — 
 All speak of the Giver 
 
 As morning doth break. 
 
 The green grass now browning, 
 
 The leaves on the trees, 
 All sparkle with dewdrops. 
 
 While huHh'd is the breeze. 
 And the ping of the rifle, 
 
 The hunter's loud call ; 
 The laugh from the orchard 
 
 To see the fruit fall ;
 
 102 
 
 The shout of the villagers, 
 In the brown copse, 
 
 As the nuts and the wild fruit 
 Exceed thei«- glad hopes ; 
 
 All speak of the happiness 
 Scattered around, 
 
 And make us tread lightly- 
 On Earth's holy ground. 
 
 While the birds flit and twitter, 
 
 From brushwood and brake, 
 And the silvery wagtail 
 
 Skima over the lake ; 
 And trips like a lady 
 
 With light dainty feet, 
 And picks up each morsel 
 
 (With thanks for the treat) ; 
 While the stroke of the axe 
 
 Of yon woodman doth say, 
 All nature is blithsome 
 
 On this autumn day. 
 
 The calm of the season, 
 
 Ere winter doth fall, 
 Now soothes my glad spirit, 
 
 Peace enters my soul. 
 Though the brown of yon maple 
 
 Is like to man's grey, 
 Each, silently teaching. 
 
 Life hasteth away ; 
 The year is reposing. 
 
 Ere gently it sleep, 
 So man — his life closing — 
 
 Hath scant cause to weep,
 
 103 
 
 As he looks from the brow 
 Of the hill he hath trod. 
 
 To the valley below 
 
 And light upward to God. 
 
 Oh, then like October, 
 
 So calm and so brown, 
 Our soul be found ripe 
 
 As " the sun goeth down ; " . 
 The dead leaves around us — 
 
 Our sins fallen away, 
 Our virtues the vintage 
 
 Stored up 'gainst the day 
 "When the Husbandman cometh, 
 
 His servants to call, 
 And spring universal 
 
 Awakeneth all. 
 
 ^ Lament. 
 
 " Lamentation, and mourning, and woe" 
 
 Nought can I do, nor aught attain— 
 Lost is my guiding star below ; 
 All I have learnt is but to know 
 
 That virtue is the highest gain. 
 
 Broke is ray lute ; my harp is still, 
 
 And all untuned each nerve-like string ; 
 Down droops my muse's weary wing, 
 
 Like wounded bird on cloud-cap't hill. 
 
 Upward, and onward, aud around, 
 
 With piercing gaze I strain mine eyes ; 
 Lost in the void of endless skies 
 
 I sink, appalled, by gloom profound.
 
 104 
 
 Life's little day will all too soon, 
 Close round me in eternal night 
 Nor even bless me with the si^ht 
 
 Of pictures, limned by hope, at noon. 
 
 Gone are the rainbow tints of day ; 
 Changed for the leaden hues of eve — 
 Leaving me bat the power to grieve, 
 
 For transient bliss too bright to stay. 
 
 As sinks the sun in murky skies, 
 
 'Mid lurid tints and threat'ning clouds, 
 So my poor soul her glory shrouds, 
 
 While sorrow gleams from-both mine eyes. 
 
 My ruined hopes — like broken toys 
 Or shattered columns — listless lie ; 
 And serve to warn each passei--by, 
 
 *• Here is the grave of all my joys." 
 
 Wealth — honour — fame — departed friends. 
 And dearer still (whom most I mourn) 
 My darling child ! whose glad return 
 
 For all my giief would make amends. 
 
 These have I lost, and now forlorn, 
 Disconsolate I make my moan ; 
 Life's treasures — all so quickly flown, 
 
 I feel that " Man was made to mourn." 
 
 Igtby Complain? 
 
 That Gracious Power 
 
 That formed the flower, 
 
 Shall man arraign ? 
 When not a blade of grass that grows, 
 Wben not a daisy or a rose 
 
 But might as well complain.
 
 105 
 
 That gentle breeze 
 
 That stirs the trees 
 
 On summer eve, 
 Because it cannot rush along 
 Dark as the storm or tempest strong, 
 
 Shall it begin to grieve ? 
 
 The pomp and state 
 
 Of all the great. 
 
 This teaches best — 
 That towers and trees must stem the storm, 
 While to the humbler grass and worm 
 
 He irranteth shade and rest. 
 
 o' 
 
 The giddy throng 
 
 That roll along 
 
 Life's broad highway : 
 What though in gaudy trappings drest 
 Yet who shall dare to call them blest, 
 
 Until the close of day. 
 
 Wealth's grosser air 
 
 Weighs like despair 
 
 Their di-ooping wing, 
 While my rapt soul's intenser glow, 
 Sces^beauty in all things below, 
 
 And hears all nature sing. 
 
 Then to his will 
 
 Submissive still. 
 
 Content I'll lie. 
 Accepting what He gives as best, 
 What he denies seek on hisbre a&t, 
 Or, patient, hoping, wait the rest, 
 
 In bright eternity.
 
 106 
 
 Wisdom* 
 
 Pallas Athene, froddess lair, 
 
 Thou maiden with the dark brown hair, 
 
 And eyes of blue. 
 Henceforth I mean to leave the rest 
 And dwell with theo ! and love thee best, 
 
 For ever true. 
 
 Wisdom I seek of purest kind ; 
 Such as can dwell in woman's mind, 
 
 As we are told ; 
 Not such as dwelt with great Kon Fu, 
 Bias, or Thales, and the few 
 
 Wise sasres old. 
 
 "b^ 
 
 Who tempered oft their wisest laws, 
 With human frailties, fertile cause 
 
 Of future w^oe ; 
 They raised their standards half-mast high, 
 Hence half their wisdom had to die 
 
 While yet below. 
 
 The mother of the gods — wert thou, 
 Springing full armed from Jove's dread brow, 
 
 Wise, stern, severe ; 
 Holding no terms with vice or crime, 
 Thou stood'st alone, erect sublime, 
 
 Ruling each sphere. 
 
 But those who reigned lonrj asfo, 
 And those who rule and govern now, 
 
 All deem it wise, 
 (As Solon, Nunia, and the Jew, 
 Who brought from heaven those precepts true, 
 
 W hich win the skies.)
 
 107 
 
 Accounting sensual mixture wise, 
 They deemed some earthly compromise 
 
 The highest good ; 
 But thou dread empress — on thy throne — 
 Mother of virtue — goddess lone, 
 
 Hast grandly stood. 
 
 Shadow of Him, of later days, 
 
 Whom men and gods conspire to praise. 
 
 Who was to come. 
 Thou sprang'st full armed from Jove divine, 
 As He from David's royal line, 
 
 And virgin's womb. 
 
 In ancient lands, as sages tell. 
 The fount of wisdom was the well, 
 
 At Pallas' shrine ; 
 But hence away with fables old ; 
 Now the dread Sybil's books are sold 
 
 For One Divine. 
 
 Wisdom and purity combined, 
 
 All meet in Him (and are enshrined) 
 
 Of woman born. 
 Sprung of a purer PaUas, he, 
 Apollo of humility, 
 
 His splendour shorn. 
 
 A god who laid his vengeance by, 
 And left his arrows in the sky. 
 
 Serene and mild ; 
 Thou, in thy high Olympian dome. 
 He, in a humble peasant's home, 
 
 A little child.
 
 108 
 
 Yet his exceeds thy wisdom far, 
 
 As does the sun yon evening star, [| 
 
 That bears thy name. 
 (Though thy faint light, that shone of old, 
 Was wisdom still, and virgin gold, 
 
 No fire could tame.) 
 
 What though in this, our sceptic ago, 
 The proud rebel, " the heathen rage 
 
 Against the son," 
 Yet hath He, on His holy hill, 
 Fixed His throne unshaken still, 
 
 Eternal, alone. 
 
 Henceforth, then, wisdom, woman born, 
 Shall be my theme, though lofty scorn, 
 
 Malii,m my muse. 
 Pallas Athene, goddess fair, 
 I love thee still, yet must I wear 
 Deep in my heart, enshrined there, 
 
 " Him of the Jews." 
 
 bonnets on the Bivett Bthet|ow» 
 
 Sweet silvery stream that slowly glid'st along, 
 Through copse and fern — down moor and brush- 
 wood glen, 
 Now icy winter's fled — and spring again 
 Unbinds the murmuring music of thy song. 
 To thee what sights and images belong ! 
 What solitudes of tarn and sheltered nook ! 
 What murmurs soft o'er shallow pebbly brook ; 
 O'er flowery beds — past scenes of peace and wrong, 
 From gushing rill to rushing torrent strong
 
 109 
 
 All Tindisttirbed ; Tintil the Lannts of men 
 Pollute thy stream (wliicli soon is clear again) 
 Widening thy way — the woods and hills among, 
 'Till changed from flowery copse and village green 
 Dark frowning cities on thy banks are seen. 
 
 Past towering cities, 'till the ocean wide, 
 (Gi-ave of the living — as of all the dead,) 
 Receives thy waters in its pearly bed 
 Which resteth never — (unlike all beside) 
 Rolling along in storm and surge or tide, 
 Or only like the restless human mind, 
 Veering at will — or swayed by every wind 
 And gust of passion ; oft without a guide ; 
 Wandering at will — (as this sweet river glides) 
 Through scenes of childhood — happy — pure and 
 
 gay, 
 Through dreams of bliss -or— fretful by the way, 
 Or darkened o'er by sin's deep muddy tides, 
 'Till pure at length and freed from filth and slime, 
 'Tis lost in Life's Eternal Sea sublime. 
 
 bonnet. 
 On the sudden death of a very beautiful child. 
 
 Sweet smiling cherub, sportive as a fay, 
 
 Gay mocking biid with voice of sweet delight, 
 A summer's joy compressed into a day, 
 
 No gem, no star, could beam vvith such a hght, 
 Is there a dearth within the realms of bliss ? 
 
 Thou child, (whose only business here was love) 
 That angels envy me a flower like this — 
 
 What need had they of such a child above ? 
 But hark ! I hear some notes, such melody,
 
 110 
 
 I fain wotikl think it is my birdie sings 
 With that pure joy that gives an angel wings, 
 Yet, since I find thou canst not fly to me, 
 I'll learn those notes, I'll seek that purity, 
 And wait my wings that I may fly to thee. 
 
 bonnet. 
 
 Azrael, the guardian of the gate of death, 
 Hath thrice looked in upon my poor abode. 
 And thrice hath cari*ied up yon starry road, 
 The soul of those I loved ; while here beneath 
 I thrice am widowed ; first my darling son, 
 Full soon his sire, and then the grandsire old, 
 All gone ! e'rethrice yon moon her coo rse had 
 
 told, 
 Across the orbit of the earth and sun : 
 Three such loved souls, so quickly called away, 
 The young, the ripe, and last the grandsire grey, 
 While I am left a silent mourner here. 
 Too young to die, too sad to shed a tear. 
 With them lies buried heart and hope and mind, 
 While I live on for those death left behind. 
 ('The above is literally true.) 
 
 ^ptiing ^ime and Youth. 
 
 A SOKNET. 
 
 Spring's blushing season, youth's warm throbbing 
 breast, 
 Though stiingcd in unison, not all agree, 
 This bursts with joy ; that droops with misery,;
 
 Ill 
 
 Spring grows to summer, youth can lose its zest. 
 Bright birds and flowers now charm the woodj 
 _ glade, 
 Wliile youth is sometimes sadly out of tune, 
 CJiill wintry winds destroys life's budding June, 
 Wliile slighted love consumes the blooming maid. 
 Warm summer glows while manhood fades away, 
 Rich orchards bend, while youth has fruitiest 
 
 fled. 
 Yet "wasting time " that counts him with th« 
 dead, 
 Oft brinies to spring a season of decay ; 
 But while time lasts shall seasons bud and bloom, 
 And man shall find his spring beyond the tomb. 
 
 ^0 %. K—^ bonnet. 
 
 Lady of beauty, theme of all my song. 
 
 Graceful and lovely, fairer far in soul ; 
 
 Mind from the storehouse cannot now recall, 
 Charms so enchanting as to thee belong. 
 
 Thy form, thy face, an empire might enthrall, 
 To thee might Princes' proudly bend the knee. 
 Thou sweet inspiress of all chivalry. 
 
 Thy love inflames my heart beyond control, 
 
 "While nimbus clouds of glory ever roll 
 
 Around thy self, and deck that gracious brow, 
 Where virtue sits and purest passions glow, 
 Flinging fair Avoman's sweetest charm round all, 
 Which decks thee thus in looks and life divine, 
 When lo ! the dream is fled -I may not call thee 
 mine.
 
 112 
 
 :(fame, — ^ sonnet. 
 
 What baseness niixeth in the soul's fair woof, 
 When noble names thus join the yelling pack. 
 Which sleuth like flies for ever on the track 
 Of one who wins the scent and climbs the roof 
 Of fame's proud niche, whose earnest struggling 
 
 feet 
 Attempt that height, let him beware the while, 
 Her breath is liilse — how niany a lurking smile 
 Will burst into a laugh at liis defeat ; 
 E'enshould he win, detraction dogs him still, 
 While few accord the merit he has shown, 
 Calling that ease — which cost him many a groan, 
 Deep wrought into his blood by earnest will, 
 E'en when his head he rears above the cloud, 
 He hears the snarling pack amongst thejapplauding 
 
 crowd. 
 
 iSlegy. 
 
 On the death of John Herbert, eldest son of W. Qnarmhy, who 
 died July 29, lb67, aged 11 years and 11 months. 
 
 Lord, I forsook thee, and thou'st called my son, 
 And hast put out his light ere it was noon ; 
 
 iSo liiir a light, 
 
 So calm and bright, 
 Ere half, or e'en a fourth his course was run. 
 
 Thou took'st my candlestick ere it was day ; 
 
 Now darkness broods, and stormy billows roll : 
 Each water spout, 
 With answering shout, 
 
 Of " deep to deep " nigh overwhelms my soid.
 
 113 
 
 While meddling memory now liaiinteth every 
 
 rill, 
 Painting Ms form by honse, or field, or hill, 
 
 His voice I hear, 
 
 Wing-od with despair. 
 Leaving a blank which nought on earth can fill. 
 
 Conld time's abyss bnt drink up half my woe — 
 There were enough to last me all my days ; 
 
 To weep and pray, 
 
 From day to day, 
 As I rccal his worth and kindly ways. 
 
 Heaven sent and took him from oar happy home 
 Our eldest born, ere he was twelve years old ; 
 
 AVhilo once again, 
 
 He talked with men. 
 And showed us gleams of wisdom manifold. 
 
 We sing of sages, heroes, leaders — men ; 
 We shout for harvests safely gathered home, 
 
 iShall we not sing 
 
 The buds of spring ? 
 The youth whence sages, heroes, leaders come ? 
 
 Not lost, transplanted, says the voice of faith ; 
 But gone from here into the upper room, 
 
 Unto the feast, 
 
 A wedding guest, 
 Waiting in patience till the bride shall come. 
 
 Tet left he here, around our blecdinir hearts, 
 A pleasing light to point our souls the way. 
 
 Death's curtained road. 
 
 That leads to God, 
 He cleft and opened up the realms of day.
 
 114 
 
 Dv'ing, he rent our niournins hearts in twaia, 
 Sin issued out, but grace hath entered in ; 
 
 Since it is so,. 
 
 We humbly bow, 
 And thank thee, God, he hath not died in vain. 
 
 Then let us gird the loins up of our mind, 
 May God's great love cause every tear to dry j 
 
 After earth's pain 
 
 ^Ve shall again 
 Behold his face divine eternally. 
 
 ^be itfoets (pqaue. 
 
 Build ye my Tomb near some wild wandering 
 
 stream, 
 Beneath the Hawthorn and the Fruit trees' shade ; 
 Where timid conies and bright birds have made 
 Their secret nests ; where oft young lovers dream, 
 Aud stretch their listless length to Eve's last gleam, 
 There where the willows bending o'er the sedge, 
 Do kiss the sweet blue bells that fringe the ledge 
 Of yonder shelving rocks ; where dace and bream 
 And silvery trout yjlay in the limped pool; 
 While holy solitude in sober grey, 
 (Uf twiliglit born) comes with the dying day, 
 Tliere as a truant just escaped from school, 
 Life's lessons done, my listless length I'd lay, 
 Till suns shall cease to shine, and stars with age 
 
 decay. 
 
 M DpicturjC. 
 
 Oh wondrous art that paints with such a skill, 
 The mined abbey hid among the trees, 
 
 The lake, the church, the moon above the hill, 
 And that soft light the ^luet onli/ sees.
 
 115 
 
 Wliat scenes have fled since Luna with tor beam 
 
 First lit those towers and aisles above the lea 
 That rose majestically like a dream, 
 
 Where beauty lingers as if loth to flee. 
 E'en ruthless ruin, (born where night birds sing) 
 
 Child of dark Eld swift from Plutonian shore, 
 Hath dropt a pinion from her sable wing, 
 That paints thee with a witching wild glamore, 
 
 Faith's self hath changed since art with magic 
 wand, 
 First raised thy form majestic o'er the steep. 
 
 And time shnll bury in the mighty sand 
 Contentions which have raged both loud and deep, 
 
 As yon lone skiS* with one whose eyes are dim. 
 Sails o'er the lake, where multitudes of yore, 
 
 Noon, night, and morn oace heard that glorious 
 hymn, 
 Which rose, and fell and died upon the shore ; 
 
 So may new races rise, new faiths may fade,! 
 But He whose hand this scene of beauty traced. 
 His name shall bloom when each worn stones 
 decayed, 
 And every charm which once its grandeur graced. 
 
 Who limns such pictures ere their beauty dies, 
 (Like those unknown but yet for ever blest ; 
 
 W ho trained the olive 'neath arcadian skies, 
 And wooed stern Ceres with impassioned zest ;) 
 
 Are Grods, and tho' to them no temples rise. 
 They read their worship in our wondering eyes. 
 
 ^0 Bobcr^t liJiggin, !Ssq. 
 
 Written on the munijicence of Robert lligrjin, Esq., of Quahy 
 Bunk, to his native town of Asliioii-under-Lyne. 
 
 These would my humble muse devote to him. 
 Who 'midst life's battle (fifty years and moi'e)
 
 116 
 
 Still kept his eye turned to liis native shore: 
 And looking back — adown the vistas dim 
 Of eighty years — still kept his memory green, 
 His soul unstained and his affoctions true. 
 And turned to where his joyous childhood grew, 
 Turned with affection to each pleasant scene, 
 His Father's House, — the village school, I ween. 
 The street, the woods, the fields, tlie purling rill, 
 The castle grey, the sheep-fold and the mill. 
 Then thinks of all that since his time had been, 
 And being blest by the Great God above. 
 Poured forth his wealth to testify his love. 
 
 Love for the sick, the lame, the halt, the blind. 
 The uninstracted and the wandering poor 
 Biasing the pain of thousands. Thousands more, 
 Shall jrrateful turn with an enlightened mind. 
 And bless him thus, who pitied human kind ; 
 Sure shall he therefore all the softer lie 
 On his own bed, who soothed such misery. 
 And left so rich a flood of light behind! 
 Blest be his soul, who this great gift designed ; 
 In that dread hour and shadowy — (which men 
 
 fear,) 
 May he, the voices of the future hear, 
 Up to that seat where pain is left behind. 
 May thus on earth " his horn exalted be," 
 And hear in Heaven the voice — "Ye did it unto 
 
 me." 
 
 N.B. —Mr. ITiggin Icjl io Ihe Schools and Infirmary of his 
 native Town the munificent gift o/i,'IU,uuO. 
 
 FINIS. 
 Ainsworth and Chectham, Printeis, 68, Back Piccadilly, Manchester
 
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