There go the ships, with sails unfurl'd,
By Thee directed on their way;
There in his own mysterious world,
Leviathan delights to play,
And tribes that range immensity,
Unknown to man, are known to Thee.
By Thee alone the living live;
Hide but thy face, their comforts fly;
They gather what thy seasons give;
Take Thou away their breath, they die.
Send forth thy Spirit from above,
And all is life again, and love.
Joy in his works Jehovah takes,
Yet to destruction they return;
He looks upon the earth, it quakes;
Touches the mountains, and they burn;
Thou, God, for ever art the same:
I AM is thine unchanging name.
SABLA, thou saw'st the' exulting foe
In fancied triumphs crown'd;
Thou heardst their frantic females throw
These galling taunts around:
'Make now your choice-the terms we give,
Desponding victims, hear:
These fetters on your hands receive,
Or in your hearts the spear.'
And is the conflict o'er (we cried),
And lie we at your feet?
And dare you vauntingly decide
The fortune we must meet?
A brighter day we soon shall see,
Though now the prospect lours;
And conquest, peace, and liberty
Shall gild our future hours.'
The foe advanced :-in firm array
We rush'd o'er Sabla's sands,
And the red sabre mark'd our way
Amidst their yielding bands.
Then, as they writhed in death's cold grasp,
We cried,' Our choice is made:
These hands the sabre's hilt shall clasp;
Your hearts shall have the blade.'
BEHOLD, a profligate his race hath run,
And poor old Cassim mourns his lifeless son;
He weeps, for the deceased hath left a brother;
Go, Death, go dry his tears, and take the other.
TO A LADY WEEPING.
FROM THE ARABIC.
WHEN I beheld thy blue eye shine
Through the bright drop that pity drew,
I saw beneath those tears of thine
A blue-eyed violet bathed in dew.
The violet ever scents the gale,
Its hues adorn the fairest wreath,
But sweetest through a dewy veil
Its colours glow, its odours breathe.
And thus thy charms in brightness rise-
When wit and pleasure round thee play,
When mirth sits smiling in thine eyes,
Who but admires their sprightly ray?
But when through pity's flood they gleam,
Who but must love their soften'd beam?
FAIR traveller of the pathless air,
To Zara's bowers these accents bear,
Hid in the shade of palmy groves,
And tell her where her wanderer roves!
But spread, O spread your pinion blue,
To guard my lines from rain and dew:
And when my charming fair you see,
A thousand kisses bear from me,
And softly murmur in her ear
How much I wish that I were near.
FROM THE ARABIC.
COME, Leila, fill the goblet up,
Reach round the rosy wine;
Think not that we will take the cup
From any hand but thine.
A draught like this 'twere vain to seek,
No grape can such supply;
It steals its tints from Leila's cheek,
Its brightness from her eye.
FROM THE PERSIAN OF HAFIZ.
SWEET maid, if thou wouldst charm my sight,
And bid these arms thy neck infold;
That rosy cheek, that lily hand,
Would give thy poet more delight
Than all Bocara's vaunted gold,
Than all the gems of Samarcand.
Boy! let yon liquid ruby flow,
And bid thy pensive heart be glad,
Whate'er the frowning zealots say :-
Tell them their Eden cannot show
A stream so clear as Rocnabad,
A bower so sweet as Mosellay.
O! when these fair perfidious maids,
Whose eyes our secret haunts infest,
Their dear destructive charms display ;-
Each glance my tender breast invades,
And robs my wounded soul of rest,
As Tartars seize their destined prey.
In vain with love our bosoms glow:
Can all our tears, can all our sighs
New lustre to those charms impart?
Can cheeks, where living roses blow,
Where nature spreads her richest dyes,
Require the borrow'd gloss of art?
Speak not of fate:-ah! change the theme,
And talk of odours, talk of wine,
Talk of the flowers that round us bloom :
'Tis all a cloud, 'tis all a dream:
To love and joy thy thoughts confine,
Nor hope to pierce the sacred gloom.
Beauty has such resistless power
That e'en the chaste Egyptian dame
Sigh'd for the blooming Hebrew boy
For her how fatal was the hour
When to the banks of Nilus came
A youth so lovely and so coy!
But ah, sweet maid! my counsel hear
(Youth should attend when those advise
Whom long experience renders sage),--
While music charms the ravish'd ear,
While sparkling cups delight our eyes,
Be gay; and scorn the frowns of age.
What cruel answer have I heard!
And yet, by heaven, I love thee still:
Can aught be cruel from thy lip?
Yet say, how fell that bitter word
From lips which streams of sweetness fill,
Which nought but drops of honey sip?
Go boldly forth, my simple lay,
Whose accents flow with artless ease,
Like orient pearls at random strung:
Thy notes are sweet, the damsels say;
But O! far sweeter, if they please
The nymph for whom these notes are sung.
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