Hearts that the world in vain had tried
And sorrow but more closely tied ;
That stood the storm, when waves were rough,
Yet in a sunny hour fall off,
Like ships, that have gone down at sea,
When heaven was all tranquillity!
A something, light as air-a look,
A word unkind or wrongly taken-
Oh love, that tempests never shook,
A breath, a touch like this hath shaken.
And ruder words will soon rush in
To spread the breach that words begin ;
And eyes forget the gentle ray
They wore in courtship's smiling day;
And voices lose the tone that shed
A tenderness round all they said;
Till fast declining, one by one,
The sweetnesses of love are gone,
And hearts, so lately mingled, seem
Like broken clouds,-or like the stream,
That smiling left the mountain's brow,
As though its waters ne'er could sever,
Yet, ere it reach the plain below,
Breaks into floods, that part for ever.
O you, that have the charge of Love,
Keep him in rosy bondage bound,
As in the Fields of Bliss above
He sits, with flowerets fetter'd round ;1
Loose not a tie that round him clings,
Nor ever let him use his wings;
For even an hour, a minute's flight
Will rob the plumes of half their light.
Like that celestial bird,-whose nest
Is found beneath far eastern skies, —
Whose wings, though radiant when at rest,
Lose all their glory when he flies !2
Some difference, of this dangerous kind,—
By which, though light, the links that bind
The fondest hearts may soon be riven;
Some shadow in love's summer heaven,
Which, though a fleecy speck at first,
May yet in awful thunder burst ;-
Such cloud it is, that now hangs over
The heart of the imperial lover,
And far hath banish'd from his sight
His Nourmahal, his Haram's Light!
Hence is it, on this happy night,
See the representation of the Eastern Cupid, pinioned closely round with wreaths of flowers, in Picart's Cérémonies Religieuses.
Among the birds of Tonquin is a species of goldfinch, which sings so melodiously that it is
called the Celestial Bird. Its wings, when it is perched, appear variegated with beautiful colours, but when it flies they lose all their splendour.'-Grosier.
When Pleasure through the fields and groves
Has let loose all her world of loves,
And every heart has found its own,-
He wanders joyless and alone,
And weary as that bird of Thrace,
Whose pinion knows no resting-place.1
In vain the loveliest cheeks and eyes
This Eden of the earth supplies
Come crowding round the cheeks are pale,
The eyes are dim—though rich the spot
With every flower this earth has got,
What is it to the nightingale,
If there his darling rose is not?
In vain the Valley's smiling throng
Worship him, as he moves along;
He heeds them not-one smile of hers
Is worth a world of worshippers.
They but the star's adorers are,
She is the heaven that lights the star!
Hence is it too that Nourmahal,
Amid the luxuries of this hour,
Far from the joyous festival,
Sits in her own sequester'd bower,
With no one near, to soothe or aid,
But that inspired and wondrous maid,
Namouna, the enchantress ;-one,
O'er whom his race the golden sun
For unremember'd years has run,
Yet never saw her blooming brow
Younger or fairer than 'tis now.
Nay, rather, as the west-wind's sigh
Freshens the flower it passes by,
Time's wing but seem'd, in stealing o'er,
To leave her lovelier than before.
Yet on her smiles a sadness hung,
And when, as oft, she spoke or sung
Of other worlds, there came a light
From her dark eyes so strangely bright,
That all believed nor man nor earth
Were conscious of Namouna's birth!
All spel's and talismans she knew,
From the great Mantra,3 which around
The Air's sublimer spirits drew,
To the gold gems of Afric, bound
'As these birds on the Bosphorus are never known to rest, they are called by the French "les ames damnées."'-Dalloway.
You may place a hundred handfuls of fragrant herbs and flowers before the nightin. gale, yet he wishes not, in his constant heart, for more than the sweet breath of his beloved rose,'-Jami,
3 He is said to have found the great Mantra, spell or talisman, through which he ruled over the elements and spirits of all denominations.'Wilford.
The gold jewels of Jinnie, which are called by the Arabs El Herrez, from the supposed charm they contain.'-Jackson.
Upon the wandering Arab's arm,
To keep him from the Siltim's1 harm.
And she had pledged her powerful art,
Pledged it with all the zeal and heart
Of one who knew, though high her sphere.
What 'twas to lose a love so dear,
To find some spell that should recall
Her Selim's smile to Nourmahal !
'Twas midnight-through the lattice, wreathed
With woodbine, many a perfume breathed
From plants that wake when others sleep
From timid jasmine buds, that keep
Their odour to themselves all day,
But, when the sunlight dies away,
Let the delicious secret out
To every breeze that roams about ;-
When thus Namouna :-'Tis the hour
That scatters spells on herb and flower,
And garlands might be gather'd now,
That, twined around the sleeper's brow,
Would make him dream of such delights,
Such miracles and dazzling sights,
As Genii of the Sun behold,
At evening, from their tents of gold,
Upon th' horizon-where they play
Till twilight comes, and, ray by ray,
Their sunny mansions melt away!
Now, too, a chaplet might be wreathed
Of buds o'er which the moon has breathed,
Which worn by her, whose love has stray'd,
Might bring some Peri from the skies,
Some sprite, whose very soul is made
Of flowerets' breaths and lovers' sighs.
And who might tell-—
་ For me, for me,'
Cried Nourmahal impatiently, -
Oh! twine that wreath for me to-night,'
Then, rapidly, with foot as light
As the young musk-roe's, out she flew
To cull each shining leaf that grew
Beneath the moonlight's hallowing beams
For this enchanted Wreath of Dreams.
Anemones and Seas of Gold,3
And new-blown lilies of the river,
And those sweet flowerets, that unfold
Their buds on Camadeva's quiver ;*—
'A demon, supposed to haunt woods, &c., in flowers of the brightest goll colour.'-Sir W. a human shape.'-Richardson,
2 The name of Jehan-Guire before his accession to the throne.
This tree (the Nagacesara) is one of the most delightful on earth, and the delicious odour of its blossoms justly gives them a place in the 3 'Hemasagara, or the Sea of Gold, with quiver o! Camadeva, or the God of Love.'-Id.
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