« ПредишнаНапред »
« The first is to desire,
If you incline,
And just as many for a friar;
The next a litter, and two mules, The heavy hours of absence to amuse,
Besides a Muleteer that I shall choose, At my disposal, subject to my rules,'
So said, the culprit knaves appear :
Which done, she chose,
You may suppose,
Then with a voice sweet as an angel's song,
While Tancred with attentive ear
Conviction follow'd as she spoke,
• With grief those scenes unwilling I disclose,
Whence every error, each misfortune rose : When pleasures, of the lowest, meanest kind, Unnerved your feeble frame, and check'd the pro
gress of your mind, In vain your people's curses, or their tears,
Your heart assail'd; Two flattering knaves had charm'd your ears, And Raymond vainly counseld, or as vainly rail'd:
He was your father's friend, wise, honest, brave,
Him you displaced, And, listening to the malice of a slave, The guardian of your crown was banish'd and
disgraced. Me too you loved, and I approved the flame, In hopes my counsels might have weight
To prompt you to redress the state, "And save from infamy your sinking name.
' But soon your confessor, the crafty priest,
Rage, hate, and malice rankling in his breast, With timorous scruples fill'd your wavering mind;
In vain each finer feeling strove To guard your heart, and court it to be kind, While haggard superstition triumph'd over love. • But Justice still pursues betimes ;
for she directs the hour, The priest, and the vile partners of his power,
Feel vengeance overtake their crimes. "The Turk's unnoticed march, last night's surprise,
The foe unthought of thundering at the gate,
At length have clear'd your eyes; [late. Their treacherous negligence is found, is felt too • No more of this unpleasing strain
If thinking, acting like a man, Reform'd by slavery's painful chain, Virtue within your breast resume her reign, Inspire your tho and guide your future plan, My heart will still be yours : e'en Raymond too,
Still loves his prince—to him repair,
Confess your faults, his aid demand,
To sacrifice his life with you,
Think then on me.
The lady's sermon was a little long,
And then she look'd so prettily, Her eyes excused the freedoms of her tongue. For when a favourite mistress speaks,
We always think her in the right, E'en though she taik for days or weeks,
Or in the middle of the night.
But as she promised him her heart,
By way of compliment,
And kiss'd her fair hand once or twice, And swore to be a good boy for the future. In short, it was so settled; the third night,
By good luck too 'twas dark as hell, Țancred with Raymond and a chosen band
Surprise the guards, who in their fright
Make but a shabby stand, And enter at the gates pellmell.
Meantime Abdalla, snug in bed,
Finding Almida stay'd away so long,
Suspecting there was something wrong, Look'd out; and found his troops were killd or
Himself a prisoner and alone, [gone, And Tancred reigning in his stead. And now the sore-back'd scoundrels in a trice Came kindly with their counsels and advice,
Proposing as a pious work
Just to impale,
Of the poor Turk.
"Ye vile corruptors of my youth,
Ye foes to honour, honesty, and truth,
If the third day
[fate. Not e'en Almida's self shall save you from your
Go, brave Abdalla, to your native shore;-
Have haply set me free;
The mist of error from my sight dispellid, Burst the vile fetters that my reason held,
Restored fair Wisdom's gentle sway, Guided my steps to her, and pointed out the way;
Now, while my people's eager voice,
O, come, my heavenly fair !
My life, my future conduct guide, Inspire my raptured heart, and make it virtuous as your own.'
J. H. MOORE.
THE COCK AND THE HORSES.
A fable. 'Twas long, ay, very long ago,
But when or where, I don't exactly know,
And if I did, perhaps you would not care; A Cock, a lazy, listless spark,
Chancing to saunter up and down,
Or just as you
Or I might do
Whether the Devil,
As I judge,
By his own foolish head,
And many a coach-horse, taller, larger