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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 Rowery vale :
Fair scenes ! but, ah! no more with peace poffet,
With ease alluring, and with plenty bleft.
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.
In vain Circaffia boasts her spicy groves,
For ever fam'd for pure and happy loves :
In vain the 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.
Ye Georgian fwains that piteous learn from far;
Circalli's ruin, and the waste of war ;
Some weightier arms than crooks and Ataffs prepare;
To shield your harvests, and defend your
The Turk and Tartar like designs pursue,
Fix'd to destroy, and ftedfast to undo.
Wild as his land, in native deserts bred,
By luft incited, or by malice led,
229 The villain Arab, as he prowls for prey,
: Oft marks with blood and wasting flames 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 flight.
Bethink thee, Hassan, where thall chirft aftwage,
When fails this cruise, his unrelenting rage?
Soon shall this scrip its precious load resign;
Then what but tears and hunger shall be thine?
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 bleft, or verdant vales bestow:
Here rocks alone, and tasteless fands are found,
And faint and fickly winds for ever howl around.
“ Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
« When firft from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!"
Curft be the gold and silver which persuade
Weak men to follow.far-fatiguing trade!
The lilly peace outshines the filver store,
And life is dearer than the golden ore:
_Yet money tempts us o'er the desert brown,
every distant mart and wealthy town.
Full oft we tempt the land, and oft the sea.:
And are we only yet repay'd by thee?
Ah! why was ruin fo attractive made,
Or why fond man so easily betray'd ?
Why heed we not, while mad we haste along,
The gentle voice of peace, or pleasure's song?
Or wherefore think the flowery mountain's fide,
The fountåin'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!”
Ocease, my fears !-all frantic as I go
When thought creates unnumber'd scenes of woe,
What if the lion in his
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,
Gaunt wolves and fullen tygers in his train :
Before them death with shrieks directs their
way, Eills the wild yell, and leads them to their prey.
“ Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
so. When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!”
At that dead hour the filent asp shall creep,
If aught of rest I find, upon my sleep:
Or fome.fwoln serpent twist his fcales 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!”
O hapless youth ! for she thy love hath won, The tender Zara will be moft undone ! Big swelld my heart, and own’d the powerful maid, When fast she dropt her tears, as thus she said: • Farewel the youth, whom sighs could not detain, “ Whom Zara's breaking heart implor'd in vain ! “ Yet as thou go'ft, may every blaft arise “ Weak and unfelt as these rejected fighs! “ Safe o'er the wild, no perils may'st thou see, “ 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 its fears, Recall'd by wisdom's voice, and Zara's tears.
He faid, and call'don heaven to bless the day, When back to Schiraz' walls he bent his way,