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On the land side, those tow'rs sublime,
That seem'd above the grasp of Time,
Were sever'd from the haunts of men
By a wide, deep, and wizard glen,
So fathomless, so full of gloom,

Νο eye could pierce the void between :
It seem'd a place where Gholes might come
With their foul banquets from the tomb,
And in its caverns feed unseen.
Like distant thunder, from below,

The sound of many torrents came,
Too deep for eye or ear to know
If 't were the sea's imprison'd flow,
Or floods of ever-restless flame.
For each ravine, each rocky spire
Of that vast mountain stood on fire;
And, though for ever past the days
When God was worshipp'd in the blaze
That from its lofty altar shone,—

Though fled the priests, the vot'ries gone,

Still did the mighty flame burn on,

Through chance and change, through good and ill,

Like its own God's eternal will,

Deep, constant, bright, unquenchable!

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OW calm, how beautiful comes on
The stilly hour, when storms are gone ;
When warring winds have died away,
And clouds, beneath the glancing ray,

Melt off, and leave the land and sea
Sleeping in bright tranquillity,-
Fresh as if Day again were born,
Again upon the lap of Morn !—
When the light blossoms, rudely torn
And scatter'd at the whirlwind's will,
Hang floating in the pure air still,
Filling it all with precious balm,
In gratitude for this sweet calm ;-
And ev'ry drop the thunder-show'rs
Have left upon the grass and flow'rs
Sparkles, as 't were that lightning-gem
Whose liquid flame is born of them!
When, 'stead of one unchanging breeze,
There blow a thousand gentle airs,
And each a diff'rent perfume bears,-
As if the loveliest plants and trees
Had vassal breezes of their own

To watch and wait on them alone,

And waft no other breath than theirs :
When the blue waters rise and fall,
In sleepy sunshine mantling all;
And ev'n that swell the tempest leaves

Is like the full and silent heaves
Of lovers' hearts, when newly blest,
Too newly to be quite at rest.

THE DIRGE OF HINDA.

FROM "THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS."

AREWELL farewell to thee, ARABY's daughter!
(Thus warbled a PERI beneath the dark sea,)
No pearl ever lay, under OMAN's green water,
More pure in its shell than thy Spirit in thee.

Oh! fair as the sea-flower close to thee growing,
How light was thy heart till Love's witchery came,
Like the wind of the south o'er a summer lute blowing,
And hush'd all its music, and wither'd its frame!

But long, upon ARABY'S green sunny highlands,
Shall maids and their lovers remember the doom
Of her, who lies sleeping among the Pearl Islands,
With nought but the sea-star to light up her tomb.

And still, when the merry date-season is burning,
And calls to the palm-groves the young and the old,
The happiest there, from their pastime returning
At sunset, will weep when thy story is told.

The young village-maid, when with flow'rs she dresses
Her dark flowing hair for some festival day,
Will think of thy fate till, neglecting her tresses,
She mournfully turns from the mirror away.

Nor shall IRAN, beloved of her Hero! forget thee—
Though tyrants watch over her tears as they start,
Close, close by the side of that Hero she'll set thee,
Embalm'd in the innermost shrine of her heart.

Farewell-be it ours to embellish thy pillow

With ev'ry thing beauteous that grows in the deep; Each flow'r of the rock and each gem of the billow Shall sweeten thy bed and illumine thy sleep.

Around thee shall glisten the loveliest amber
That ever the sorrowing sea-bird has wept ;
With many a shell, in whose hollow-wreath'd chamber,
We, Peris of Ocean, by moonlight have slept.

We'll dive where the gardens of coral lie darkling,
And plant all the rosiest stems at thy head;
We'll seek where the sands of the Caspian are sparkling,
And gather their gold to strew over thy bed.

Farewell-farewell-until Pity's sweet fountain

Is lost in the hearts of the fair and the brave, They'll weep for the Chieftain who died on that mountain, They'll weep for the Maiden who sleeps in this wave.

LOVERS' QUARRELS.

LAS!-how light a cause may move
Dissension between hearts that love!

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,

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