ZOPIRE.

My children serve! my children slaves to thee!

MAHOMET.

Were not their helpless lives preserved by me?

ZOPIRE.

What! have they never felt thy vengeful ire?

MAHOMET.

I scorned through them to crush their guilty sire!

ZOPIRE.

Proceed; inform me of their present state?

MAHOMET.

I hold the trembling balance of their fate;
One word will save, will yield it to thy hand. ·

ZOPIRE.

I save them-oh! what price dost thou demand? With joy my life, my liberty receive!

MAHOMET.

No; teach the world in Mahomet to believe

ZOPIRE.

Mes enfans dans tes fers! ils pourraient te servir!

MAHOMET.

Mes bienfesantes mains ont daigné les nourrir.

ZOPIRE.

Quoi! tu n'as point sur eux étendu ta colère?

MAHOMET.

Je ne les punis point des fautes de leur père.

ZOPIRE.

Achève, éclaircis-moi, parle, quel est leur sort?

MAHOMET.

Je tiens entre mes mains et leur vie et leur mort;
Tu n'as qu' à dire un mot, et je t'en fais l'arbitre.

ZOPIRE.

Moi! je puis les sauver! à quel prix ? à quel titre ?
Faut-il donner mon sang? faut-il porter leurs fers?

MAHOMET.

Non, mais il faut m'aider à tromper l'univers;

Desert thy gods, surrender Mecca now;
In public thy pretended faith avow;

And preach the trembling crowd, the Koran given
To Mahomet, as the messenger of heaven.
Refuse me this-'tis useless to implore-
Consent-thy long-lost son I'll then restore-
And with my own thy daughter's fate combine-

ZOPIRE.

Mahomet! a parent's tender heart is mine;
For thrice five years I ne'er have ceased to mourn
My children, from this aged bosom torn;
For thrice five years my warmest prayer hath been,
In their loved arms to quit this earthly scene;
But if no choice remain, but to betray

My country, Mahomet, to thy impious sway,
Or, with this hand, to stab my children, know,
A father's hand would give the deadly blow!
No more!

MAHOMET. (solus.)

Proud citizen, fierce old man, I'll be More proud, more fierce, more pitiless than thee. December 10th, 1830.

Il faut rendre la Mecque, abandonner ton temple,
De la crédulité donner à tous l'exemple,
Annoncer l'Alcoran aux peuples effrayés,
Me servir en prophète, et tomber à mes pieds
Je te rendrai ton fils, et je serais ton gendre.

ZOPIRE.

Mahomet, je suis père, et je porte un cœur tendre.
Après quinze ans d'ennuis, retrouver mes enfans,
Les revoir, et mourir dans leurs embrassemens,
C'est le premier des biens pour mon ame attendrie:
Mais s'il faut à ton culte asservir ma patrie,
Ou de ma propre main les immoler tous deux,
Connais-moi, Mahomet, mon choix n'est pas douteux.
Adieu.

MAHOMET. (seul.)

Fier citoyen, vieillard inexorable,

Je serai plus que toi cruel, impitoyable.

DEAR ISLE OF MY BIRTH, ERE I SAIL FROM THY SHORES.

I.

DEAR isle of my birth, ere I sail from thy shores,
In the banquet's wild glow I will try to subdue
The thought I leave her whom my bosom adores-
Yet, in silence, as if to affection untrue.

II.

In silence, as if to affection untrue

For vain were this fevered emotion to quell The throb of the heart, in its lingering adieu, The frenzy of love, in its burning farewell.

III.

And thou, my adored one! thou never wilt know
Of all I have felt, yet of all I repressed;
Though earth, without thee, hath no joy to bestow,
I love thee too deeply to seek to be blest.

IV.

Were thy lot to be linked through existence to mine,
To possess such a heart were Elysium to me;
But, though in distraction that hope to resign,
I submit for alas! 'twould be ruin to thee.

V.

"Twould be ruin-ah, Fortune! why hast thou refused To join two fond hearts death alone could divide,

But a pittance from all by the worthless abused,
In the revels of vice, or the trappings of pride?

VI.

Oh! could we believe that Futurity's doom

Were the dream of the fool, or the tale of the knaveHow sweet were the refuge from thought in the tomb! How blest the repose of despair in the grave!

EPIGRAM,

On a ruby-visaged friend, rather partial to his tumbler.

WHOEVER, my friend, sees thy nose clad in scarlet,
Like the lady our clergy call Babylon's harlot,
Learns more than from all the philosophers' chatter,
How visibly spirit may act upon matter.

March 30th, 1829.

TRANSLATION FROM LUCAN'S PHARSALIA.

Book IX.

Cato and Labienus, having collected the remains of the Roman republicans after the battle of Pharsalia, arrive in Africa, to continue the war against Cæsar, and march, for that purpose, across the burning deserts of Lybia called the Syrtes, to join their ally Juba, king of Mauritania. On their way, they reach the celebrated temple and oracle of Jupiter Ammon, when Labienus asks Cato to consult the god on the event of the civil war? This occasions Cato's lofty reply, deservedly pronounced by Blair to be the "finest specimen of the moral sublime in all antiquity." Then follows an equally appropriate and noble eulogium of Cato by the poet.

Now towards the shrine the wearied Romans came,
Sacred to Jove, here known by Ammon's name.

Far from all other fanes the structure stands,

Amid the dreary Garamantian sands :
Not, as in Rome, the sire of gods is seen,
With human form and man's majestic mien;
No brandished hand the forky thunder rears,
But a ram's head and wreathed horns he wears.

Ventum erat ad templum, Libycis quod gentibus unum
Inculti Garamantes habent: stat corniger illic
Iupiter, ut memorant, sed non aut fulmina vibrans,
Aut similis nostro, sed tortis cornibus, Ammon.
Non illic Libycæ posuerunt ditia gentes
Templa: nec Eois splendent donoria gemmis.
Quamvis Æthiopum populis, Arabumque beatis

Though Ethiopia's tribes his godhead own,
Though rich Arabia bows to him alone,
And to the farthest Ind' no other Jove is known,
Here ancient poverty so strictly reigns—
No gaudy pomp the soul's pure worship stains;
No costly spoil from guilty greatness shines;
No useless gold, nor gems from Asian mines;
And Heaven, that simple virtue still befriends,
From Roman wealth the sacred shrine defends.

From Eastern lands, before the lofty gate,
A crowd, to learn the god's decisions, wait;
Who, when the Roman leader1 they survey,
Yield, with respect, before the hero's way.
Here Cato's friends, with anxious hope inspired,
On every side the virtuous chief required—
Since to a temple so renowned they came,
To learn if heavenly truth or empty fame,
Had o'er the world diffused its wondrous name?
But Labienus, far above the rest,

With eager warmth unites in the request,

That Cato's self should hear their doom revealed, As yet within the womb of time concealed.

66

66

Chance and our lucky rout," the warrior said, 'To Ammon's fane our wandering host has led. What like its awful counsel can instruct?

What o'er the Syrts' our burning march conduct?

Gentibus, atque Indis unus sit Iupiter Ammon,
Pauper adhuc Deus est, nullis violata per ævum
Divitiis delubra tenens: morumque priorum
Numen Romano templum defendit ab auro.