But Time has now reversed these visions gay, "Did I not call thee to a hard emprize, "And wilt thou shrink when dangers round us rise? "Dost sleep, while wakes yon star's refulgent eye, "Ere yet the ambient hue of darkness fly? "The camels urge; our journey's end draws near; "And bold adventure still disperses fear. "Be ours, thro' Thoal's archer-bands to gain "The sprightly troops that camp on Edom's plain. "Sweet maids! how graceful curl your locks of jet, "While rubies sparkle thro' their waving net! "The gales that round your perfum'd temples play, "Will, by their fragrant breath, direct our way, "Where, timorous as the fawn, you hide your "Amid the thick encircling grove of spears. "We seek the lovely maids of yonder vale, "But lions guard where love would fain assail; fears *The sentiments of the Arab, in this passage resemble those expressed by Albert, Marquis of Malespina, a famous Troubadour, at the close of the 12th century, when accused of highway robbery; "If I devoted myself to robbery, it was not from the desire of amassing riches, but for the pleasure of spending them magnificently." Histoire des Troubadours. « Their dauntless spearmen every fear defy, "Warmed by the beams of each black rolling eyè. "While generous deeds their liberal minds inflame, "Frugal and modest, blooms each beauteous dame; "The flames these warriors on the mountains raise "Invite the traveller by their welcome blaze; "While Love's soft flames, which these dear maids inspire, "Glow, in his breast, with unextinguished fire. "Slain by these heroes in their tented halls, "To grace the feast, the steed, the camel falls; "Beneath the glance of each soft female eye, "Devoid of life, their charm-struck lovers lie; ""Tis here, the anguish of the warrior's wound, "In cups of honied wine, is quickly drown'd, "And sure, if here I longer should remain, "Some balmy breeze would mitigate my pain; "Nor wounds, nor arrows shall my bosom rue, "From quiver'd eyes of ample rolling blue; "Nor shall my heart the glittering sabres dread, "From curtain'd veils, where Thoal's maids are hid, "Nor yet from gazels gay, that I adore, "Shall I retreat, tho' lions round me roar." While o'er these sands our fearless course we held, Such glowing words my ventrous band impell'd. Now danger drives me far from pomp and power, To spend in drowsy sloth each lingering hour, In drowsy sloth! but let me first prepare To scale the regions of the desart air; Or cavern'd deep from mortal view, to dwell Within the centre of the earth's vast shell; Content to leave the heights of power sublime For those that dare the steeps of glory climb. Content degrades the peasant's abject race, But Fame attends the camel's hastening pace. Then rouze my camels, let us forward haste, But while my steps to dangers new I bend, But Hope smiles radiant o'er each future plan, Hope, that illumes the narrow sphere of man.Weak Hope! wilt thou, when waning years decay, Transcend the bliss of life's advancing day? Ah no! when Life and Fortune's smiles were new, Their pleasures ne'er my fixed affections drew; My spirit, conscious of its worth innate, Still spurn'd the base, and brav'd the frowns of Fate, The powers, in Glory's path, that brightest shine; Ne'er did I think that doom'd by Fate's decree, Then rouse, my soul, in Fate's resistless day, 'Tis he that spurns each feigning friend's embrace. And thou, that after youth unvext with pain, Sages, who musing deep the course explore Of things that are, and things that are no more, Hide, in your breasts, the strange mysterious plan, Since silence best becomes the lot of man. Not mortal might can stay the ceaseless course Of Fate, that rules us with resistless force. Even you may wander from your homes exil'd, With wayward camels, through the sandy wild. J. L. EDINBURGH. ELEGY. THE setting sun still lingers in the mead, And gentle breezes curl the winding stream, Along whose banks, with lingering steps, I love In fancy I behold him pensive bend, Beside the river where tall woods are seen, The treacherous angle quivers in his hand, And oft the starting tear bedims his sight. Ah! at this moment does he think on me? That unrelenting, that severe decree, Which harshly told us we should meet no more? |