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Her maids around her mov'd, a duteous band !
Each bore a crook all-rural in her hand:
Some simple lay of flocks and herds they sung;
With joy the mountain, and the forest

rung:
Be every youth like royal Abbas mov’d,
“ And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!"

And oft the royal lover left the care
And thorns of state, attendant on the fair;
Oft to the shades and low-roof'd cots retir'd,
Or fought the vale where first his heart was fir'd :
A ruffet mantle, like a swain, he wore,
And thought of-crowns and busy courts no more.

“ Be every youth like royal Abbas moy'd,
“ And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!”

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Blest was the life, that royal Abbas led :
Sweet was his love and innocent his bed.
What if in wealth the noble maid excel;
The simple shepherd girl can love as well.
Let those who rule on Persia's jewell'd throne,
Be fam'd for love, and gentleft love alone ; .
Or wreathe, like Abbas, full of fair renown;
The lover's myrtle with the warrior's crown.
O happy days ! the maids around her say ;
O hafte, profuse of blessings, hafte away ! :

Be every youth, like royal Abbas mov!d,
“ And every Georgian maid like Abra loy'd !"
L 5

ECLOGUE.

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IN

N fair Circadia, where, to love inclin'd,

Each swain was blest, for every maid was kind; At that still hour, when awful mignight reigns, And none, but wretches, haunt the twilight plains ; What time the moon had hung her lamp on high, And past in radiance thro' the cloudless sky; Sad o'er the dews, two brother shepherds fled, Where wildering fear and desperate forrow led: Fast as they preft their flight, behind them lay Wide ravag'd plains, and vallies stole away. Along the mountain's bending fides they ran, Till faint and weak Secander thus began :

SE C ANDER.
Oftay thee, Agib, for my feet deny,
No longer friendly to my life, to fly.
Friend of my heart, O turn thee and survey,
Trace our fad flight thro' all its length of way!
And first review that long-extended plain,
And yon wide groves, already past with pain !

Yon

Yon ragged cliff, whose dangerous path we tried ! And last, this lofty mountain's weary fide!

A G I B. Weak as thou art, yet hapless must thou know The toils of flight, or some severer woe! Still as I halte, the Tartar shouts behind, And shrieks and sorrows load the faddening wind : In rage

of heart, with ruin in his hand, He blasts our harvests, and deforms our land. Yon citron grove, whence firit in fear we came, Droops its fair honours to the conquering flame; Far fly the fwains, like us, in deep despair, And leave to ruffian bands their fieccy care.

N

DE

R.

S e CA Unhappy land, whose blessings tempt the sword, In vain, unheard, thou call'st thy Persian lord ! In vain thou court'st him, helpless, to thine aid, To shield the shepherd, and protect the maid ! Par off, in thoughtless indolence refign'd, Soft dreams of love and pleasure footh his mind : 'Midst fair sultanas loft in idle joy, No wars alarm him, and no fears annoy.

A G I B. Yet these green hills, in summer's sultry heat, Have lent the monarch oft a cool retreat. Sweet to the fight is Zabran’s fioivery plain, And once by maids and thepherds lov'd in vain !

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No more the virgins shall delight to rove
By Sargis' banks, or Irwan's shady grove ;
On Tarkie's mountain catch the cooling gale,
Or breathe the sweets of Aly's flowery vale:
Fair scenes ! but, ah! no more with peace poffeít,
With ease alluring, and with plenty blest.
No more the shepherd's whitening tents appear,
Nor the kind products of a bounteous year ;
No more the date, with snowy blossoms crown'd!.
But ruin spreads her baleful fires around.

S, E. CA'N DE R.
In vain Circaflia boasts her spicy groves,
For ever fam'd for pure and happy loves :
In vain fhe boasts her. faireft of the fair,
Their eye's blue languish, and their golden hair!.
Those

eyes in tears their fruitless grief muft fend; Those hairs the Tartar's cruel hand shall rend.

А ств.
Ye Georgian fwains that piteous learn from fari
Eircafli's ruin, and the waste of war;
Some weightier arms than crooks and Ataffs prepare;
To shield your harvests, and defend

your

fair:
The Turk and Tartar like designs pursue,
Fix'd to destroy, and stedfast to undo. .
Wild as his land, in native deserts bred,
By luft incited, or by malice led,

The

The villain Arab, as he prowls for prey,
Oft marks with blood and wasting Aames the way;
Yet none so cruel as the Tartar foe,
To death inur’d, and nurs'd in scenes of woe.

He said ; when loud along the vale was heard A Thriller shriek, and nearer fires appear’d: Th'affrighted shepherds thro' the dews of night, Wide o'er the moon-light hills renew'd their fight.

A L E T.

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