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YE

SOLIMA;

AN ARABIAN ECLOGUE.*

[SIR W. JONES.]

E maids of Aden! hear a loftier tale

Than e'er was sung in meadow, bow'r, or dale.

-The smiles of Abelah, and Maia's eyes,
Where beauty plays, and love in slumber lies;
The fragrant hyacinths of Azza's hair,

That wanton with the laughing summer-air;
Love-tinctur'd cheeks, whence roses seek their bloom,
And lips, from which the Zephyr steals perfume;

* This poem, says its author, is not a regular translation from the Arabic; but most of its figures, sentiments, and descriptions are taken from the poets of that country: as are also, most of those of the two following pieces, (the Palace of Fortune, and the Seven Fountains) from the Persian, and other eastern writers. The eclogue before us, may be supposed to be written in praise of an Arabian princess, who had built a caravansera, with plea. sant gardens, for the refreshment of travellers and pilgrims; an act of munificence not uncommon in Asia.-Sir W. Jones's Preface to his Poems, 1772.

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Invite no more the wild unpolish'd lay,

But fly like dreams before the morning ray.
Then farewell, love! and farewell, youthful fires!
A nobler warmth my kindled breast inspires.
Far bolder notes the list'ning wood shall fill :
Flow smooth, ye rivulets; and, ye gales, be still.

See And with their spicy breath embalm the skies; Where every breeze sheds incense o'er the vales, And every shrub the scent of musk exhales! See through yon opening glade a glittering scene, Lawns ever gay, and meadows ever green! Then ask the groves, and ask the vocal bow'rs, Who deck'd their spiry tops with blooming flow'rs, Taught the blue stream o'er sandy vales to flow, And the brown wild with liveliest hues to glow? Fair Solima! the hills and dales will sing; Fair Solima! the distant echoes ring. But not with idle shows of vain delight, To charm the soul, or to beguile the sight; At noon on banks of pleasure to repose, Where bloom intwin'd the lily, pink, and rose; Not in proud piles to heap the nightly feast, Till morn with pearls has deck'd the glowing east ; Ah! not for this she taught those bowers to rise, And bade all Eden spring before our eyes:

yon fair groves that o'er Amana rise,

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