"Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear In all my griefs a more than equal share! Here, where no springs in murmurs break away, Or moss-crown'd fountains mitigate the day, In vain ye hope the green delights to know, Which plains more blest, or verdant vales, bestow : Here rocks alone, and tasteless sands, are found, And faint and sickly winds for ever howl around.

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Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, 29 When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!

"Curst be the gold and silver which persuade
Weak men to follow far-fatiguing trade!
The lily peace outshines the silver store,
And life is dearer than the golden ore:
Yet money tempts us o'er the desert brown,

Το

every distant mart and wealthy town.

Full oft we tempt the land, and oft the sea;

And are we only yet repaid by thee?

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-Ah! why was ruin so attractive made?

Or why fond man so easily betray'd?

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Why heed we not, whilst mad we haste along,
The gentle voice of peace, or pleasure's song?
Or wherefore think the flowery mountain's side,
The fountain's murmurs, and the valley's pride,
Why think we these less pleasing to behold
Than dreary deserts, if they lead to gold?

Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!

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"O cease, my fears !—all frantic as I go, When thought creates unnumber'd scenes of woe, 50 What if the lion in his rage I meet !—

Oft in the dust I view his printed feet:
And, fearful! oft, when day's declining light
Yields her pale empire to the mourner night,
'By hunger rous'd, he scours the groaning plain, 55
Gaunt wolves and sullen tigers in his train:
Before them Death with shrieks directs their way,
Fills the wild yell, and leads them to their prey.
Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, 59
When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!

"At that dead hour the silent asp shall creep, If aught of rest I find, upon my sleep: Or some swoln serpent twist his scales around, And wake to anguish with a burning wound. Thrice happy they, the wise contented poor, From lust of wealth, and dread of death secure! They tempt no deserts, and no griefs they find; Peace rules the day, where reason rules the mind. Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!

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"O hapless youth!—for she thy love hath wonThe tender Zara will be most undone !

Big swell'd my heart, and own'd the powerful maid,
When fast she dropt her tears, as thus she said:
'Farewell the youth whom sighs could not detain ;
Whom Zara's breaking heart implor'd in vain!

Yet, as thou go'st, may every blast arise

Weak and unfelt, as these rejected sighs!

Safe o'er the wild, no perils may'st thou see,

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No griefs endure, nor weep, false youth, like me.'
-O let me safely to the fair return,

Say, with a kiss, she must not, shall not mourn;
O! let me teach my heart to lose it fears,
Recall'd by Wisdom's voice, and Zara's tears."

He said, and call'd on heaven to bless the day, 85 When back to Schiraz' walls he bent his way.

ECLOGUE III.

ABRA; OR, THE GEORGIAN SULTANA.

SCENE, A forest.-TIME, The evening.

IN Georgia's land, where Tefflis' towers are seen,
In distant view, along the level green,

While evening dews enrich the glittering glade,
And the tall forests cast a longer shade,

What time 'tis sweet o'er fields of rice to stray,
Or scent the breathing maize at setting day;
Amidst the maids of Zagen's peaceful grove,
Emyra sung the pleasing cares of love.

Of Abra first began the tender strain, Who led her youth with flocks upon the plain. At morn she came those willing flocks to lead, Where lilies rear them in the watery mead; From early dawn the livelong hours she told, Till late at silent eve she penn'd the fold. Deep in the grove, beneath the secret shade, A various wreath of odorous flowers she made: Gay-motley'd pinks and sweet jonquils she chose, The violet blue that on the moss-bank grows; All sweet to sense, the flaunting rose was there; 'The finish'd chaplet well adorn'd her hair.

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b That these flowers are found in very great abundance in some of the provinces of Persia; see the Modern History of the ingenious Mr. Salmon.

Great Abbas chanc'd that fated morn to stray, By love conducted from the chase away;

Among the vocal vales he heard her song,

And sought, the vales and echoing groves among;
At length he found, and woo'd, the rural maid; 25
She knew the monarch, and with fear obey'd.
Be every youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!

The royal lover bore her from the plain;
Yet still her crook and bleating flock remain:
Oft, as she went, she backward turn'd her view,

And bade that crook and bleating flock adieu.
Fair happy maid! to other scenes remove,
To richer scenes of golden power and love!

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Go leave the simple pipe and shepherd's strain; 35
With love delight thee, and with Abbas reign!

Be every youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!

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Yet, 'midst the blaze of courts, she fix'd her love
On the cool fountain, or the shady grove;
Still, with the shepherd's innocence, her mind
To the sweet vale, and flowery mead, inclin’d;
And, oft as spring renew'd the plains with flowers,
Breath'd his soft gales, and led the fragrant hours,
With sure return she sought the sylvan scene,
The breezy mountains, and the forests green.

Her maids around her mov'd, a duteous band!
Each bore a crook, all rural, in her hand:

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