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| PLAINTS, CONSOLATIONS, AND DELIGHTS |
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| OF |
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| ACHMED ARDEBEILI |
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| CONTENTS. |
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PAGE |
| TITLE PAGE |
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| SUBSCRIBERS |
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| ERRATA |
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| INTRODUCTION |
i |
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| YESTERDAY. |
| Say, ye studious grave and old, |
1 |
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| THE VOLUPTUARY. |
| The toils, the dangers now of war are o’er, |
3 |
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| NIGHTINGALE AND ROSE. |
| The plaintive minstrel of the midnight grove, |
6 |
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| BLISSFUL MOMENTS. |
| Care enough, enough of sorrow |
8 |
| |
| TO SELIMA. |
| Fair blooms the rose, but more than doubly fair |
10 |
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| TO SELIMA. |
| Lo! spring, all sportively with verdure crown’d, |
12 |
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| THE ORPHAN BOY. |
| Whence art thou whose warblings wild, |
13 |
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| TO SELIMA. |
| Thou, Selima, hast seen the tender fawn |
16 |
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| TO SELIMA. |
| When the fair rose, amidst her flowery train |
17 |
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| THE OLD SOLDIER. |
| Rest awhile, disabled Soldier |
19 |
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| TO SELIMA. |
| Unrivall’d maid! whose heart-alluring eyes |
23 |
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| TO THE POPPY. |
| Let the bards of Yemen praise |
25 |
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| INSTABILITY OF FAVOR. |
| Let not the man, sustained by royal smile, |
28 |
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| THE PLAINT OF MORAD. |
| Vain was the youthful hope that fir’d my soul |
30 |
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| TO SELIMA. |
| Ten thousand tulips bloom in Mavra’s vale, |
33 |
| |
| ACHMED’s DREAM. |
| When violence deforms a Sultan’s sway, |
35 |
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| ACHMED’s RESOLVE. |
| Shall I, because a tyrant’s will |
40 |
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| ‘FORGIVE, AND TIME SHALL TEACH THEE TO FORGET.’ |
| Say, will commiseration meet the man |
42 |
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| TO THE TYRANT BAYSANGOR. |
| Perish the name of Rostam from the earth, |
47 |
| |
| DANGERS. |
| The interminable desert spreads around, |
49 |
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| CONSOLATION. |
| Though midnight shades involve the world in gloom, |
51 |
| |
| TO SELIMA. |
| The blast of death howls o’er the Caspian wave, |
52 |
| |
| TO SELIMA. |
| Far from my Selima, my soul’s delight, |
54 |
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| BLESSINGS. |
| When will my wand’rings end, O gracious heaven! |
56 |
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| EMANCIPATION. |
| Cease, Achmed! cease, to goad thy harass’d mind! |
58 |
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| TO SELIMA. |
| Though exil’d, solitary, and forlorn, |
61 |
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| THE RETROSPECT. |
| ’Twas Achmed’s prayer, ere fate should seal his doom, |
64 |
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| THE RESTING PLACE. |
| Dead lay the vanquish’d lion at my feet, |
68 |
| |
| THE VOW. |
| Amid your solitudes, ye forests wild, |
70 |
| |
| “COMPARE—’TWILL LESSEN GRIEF.” |
| Whence heaves my bosom with that swelling sigh? |
72 |
| |
| FRAGMENT. |
| O wherefore was I born? or on the day |
73 |
| |
| SOCIAL LOVE. |
| Man, as he came from his Creator’s hand, |
76 |
| |
| SERENITY. |
| The gliding brook’s soft murmurs lull to rest, |
80 |
| |
| TO THE POPPY. |
| Mid the vast regions of etherial space. |
81 |
| |
| SELF DEFENCE. |
| With man I war not.—If he war on me, |
83 |
| |
| MID-DAY. |
| The fervid blaze of noon now scorches wide, |
84 |
| |
| THE BEDAVI. |
| Far o’er the plains the wand’ring shepherd strays, |
85 |
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| THE VINDICATION. |
| Suppose one moment, Achmed, thy retreat |
89 |
| |
| INSCRIPTION ON ACHMED’s SCYMETAR. |
| Keen as the blasts from Bulak’s desert blow, |
92 |
| |
| OMNIPRESENCE. |
| Why was this Spirit, ardent still to rise |
93 |
| |
| TO THE JASMINE. |
| Let the wild olive rise with towering pride, |
95 |
| |
| THE INVITATION. |
| Why, hapless man, consume thy lingering life, |
98 |
| |
| THE TURTLE DOVES. |
| Here, Achmed, let thy wearied frame once more, |
100 |
| |
| TO SELIMA. |
| Where are you flown, ye hours of gay delight? |
105 |
| |
| TO THE TYRANT SON OF ABBAS. |
| Flattery was ne’er my tribute to the great. |
107 |
| |
| TO THE LUXURIOUS. |
| Ye, who beneath rich canopies of state |
110 |
| |
| FREEDOM. |
| Fill, fill, the cup with generous wine, |
112 |
| |
| TO ENVY. |
| Distraction, monster! seize thy every thought! |
114 |
| |
| MORNING. |
| To western climes, as speed the goblin crew, |
117 |
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| TRANSITION. |
| How blest the day, when bursting from the chains |
120 |
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| BENEFICENCE. |
| If possess’d of golden treasure, |
122 |
| |
| TO THE SNAKE. |
| Let the false world with dark reproach compare |
125 |
| |
| TO NATURE. |
| Who can behold thy wildly-varied forms |
127 |
| |
| MIDNIGHT REFLECTIONS. |
| The savage-haunted forest spreads around, |
129 |
| |
| TO THE CAMEL. |
| Emblem of persevering patient toil, |
133 |
| |
| THE ECLIPSE. |
| Without a shade where beams the orient light, |
135 |
| |
| EXPANSION. |
| Shall we not trace the various charms that please, |
136 |
| |
| TO AZRAEL, THE ANGEL OF DEATH. |
| What’s life? what’s death? fate’s sun-shine, or its gloom? |
139 |
| |
| VIRTUE INSEPARABLE FROM NATURE. |
| Let Luxury her sancied wants deplore, |
141 |
| |
| TO DISEASE. |
| Unwelcome harbinger of languid woe, |
144 |
| |
| THE TEMPEST. |
| Wild tumult bursting from the depths of hell, |
146 |
| |
| TO AMBITION. |
| What are the dazzling objects of thine aim? |
148 |
| |
| THE TOMB OF FORTUNE. |
| Through all the mazes of delusive art, |
152 |
| |
| SOLITUDE. |
| The azure face of heaven no cloud enveils, |
154 |
| |
| THE DERVISH. |
| Without assistance of the reasoning power, |
157 |
| |
| TO THE NIGHTINGALE. |
| While light-wing’d Zephyrs waft each tender note, |
161 |
| |
| DEPENDANCE ON THE SUPREME BEING. |
| Nature degenerates not; why then should man? |
164 |
| |
| TO THE SUN FLOWER. |
| Where is the man who thus can nobly say, |
166 |
| |
| WAR. |
| O sacred fire! O ever active flame! |
168 |
| |
| TO PEACE. |
| The trumpet and the tebble’s sound, no more |
170 |
| |
| VIRTUE AND RESIGNATION. |
| The few who bravely and sublimely dare |
172 |
| |
| “NATURE ALONE CAN LEAD TO TRUE DELIGHT.” |
| To notes of joy my lute was lightly strung, |
175 |
| |
| ADVERSITY. |
| Why do thine hours, thy days, thy years, O time |
178 |
| |
| TO THE EVENING STAR. |
| Hail! beauteous planet! whose unrivall’d ray |
181 |
| |
| TO THE LAMP. |
| Sweet solace of the dark and dreary hour, |
183 |
| |
| THE PURSUITS OF MAN. |
| Poor human life! perplex’d and painful span, |
186 |
| |
| THE LOVE OF NATURE. |
| Now the grey dawn along the Eastern sky |
188 |
| |
| ASTEKHER. |
| With moss hung shaggy stands the shatter’d pine, |
192 |
| |
| THE FLOATING SUN BEAMS. |
| The tranquil water’s glassy surface glows |
196 |
| |
| TO THE KIDS. |
| Ye wanton kids that brouze beside my bowers. |
198 |
| |
| THE ADVANCES OF AGE. |
|
| The wither’d leaves that float adown the stream, |
201 |
| |
| TO HOPE. |
| Hope! thou false inmate of the human breast, |
204 |
| |
| THE BATTLE. |
| What mean those deep’ning shouts that rend the sky? |
206 |
| |
| THE ALARM. |
| From whence? what art thou? ghastly spectre, say? |
208 |
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| TO THE STRANGER. |
| Is then this tranquil life so irksome grown, |
213 |
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| THE ALLEGORY. |
| In long and painful silence, have my thoughts |
221 |
A SERIES OF
P O E M S,
CONTAINING THE
PLAINTS, CONSOLATIONS, AND DELIGHTS
OF
ACHMED ARDEBEILI,
A Persian Exile
WITH
NOTES HISTORICAL AND EXPLANATORY
By CHARLES FOX.
PRINTED BY
BULGIN AND ROSSER,
FOR J. COTTLE, HIGH STREET; G. G. AND J. ROBINSON,
PATERNOSTER-ROW, AND CADELL AND DAVIES,
STRAND, LONDON.
1797.
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ERRATA.
| Introduct. | p. | viii. | for aud r. et. |
| Ibid. | p. | xiv. | for Mortader r. Moctader |
| Page | 59, | l. | 18. | for unknown to man, r. to man unknown |
| 68, | l. | 14. | for Will r. Wilt |
| 71, | l. | 13. | for HAKHEEM, r. HAKEEM. |
| 78, | l. | 19. | for wordly r. worldly. |
| 139, | l. | 5. | for skies r. sky. |
| 186, | l. | 4. | for ‘Tired’ r. Tired. |
| 237, | l. | 3. | for ‘caled’ r. called. |
| 250, | l. | 16, | for r. |
| 258, | l. | 22, | dele a. |
| 259, | l. | 6, | for r. |
| The folios in the Notes between 232 and 241 are mis-numbered
133 to 140. |
INTRODUCTION.
THE Persian Empire, through remote ages down to the
present century, has been celebrated in history, and held a
distinguished rank in the scale of nations. Perhaps few now
existing can boast so early an origin, and those few only
are nations of the East. PERSIA, or, as it is termed by the
natives, AYRAN, has also been ever considered as one
of the most polished and refined in its manners, of all the
oriental states; though the pride of the Greeks led them
to speak of its inhabitants, as they did of other nations, by
the generally reproachful name of barbarians. Persia has
been governed, in succession, by Dynasties of its own
native Kings, by the Khalifs of Bagdad, the Tartarian and
Moghul Conquerors, the Tourcoman Begs, and the Sefis
of the race of Ali, down to the usurpation of the sovereign
power by Nadir Shah, more generally known to Europe
by the appellation of Kouli Khan; after whose death
various chiefs, aided by their soldiers, assumed sometimes
the government of the whole, at other times only so much
as they could obtain of particular provinces: but, through
the course of all these various changes, they do not appear
from history to have enjoyed, even during one short
period, the least degree of POLITICAL FREEDOM:
in fact, it seems never to have entered into the mind of a
PERSIAN, that LIBERTY could exist but in a state of
Nature, or of Patriarchal simplicity, such as yet may be
found amongst some tribes of the BEDOUINS, that rove the
Arabian wilds; and perhaps amongst the wandering shepherds
and herdsmen of Persia; who, in the uncultivated
parts of some provinces are very numerous. Hence to them
the titles of Khan, Beg, Shah, Melec, Shehriar, Sultan,
&c. however they may denote a leader, guardian, or sovereign
protector, must in effect also include the idea of A
DESPOT; since, to their apprehensions and experience,
Government is a mastery, regulated by the royal will; from
which, however hastily expressed, neither property or life
are at any time secure; though the Koran affords the
presumptive basis of their laws. Some of their early
Monarchs, indeed, have, through a native goodness of
disposition, and superiority of understanding, rising to
true greatness, given very striking proofs, that the
plenitude of power and the abundance of riches are not
the never-failing, though doubtless the too-frequent means,
of corrupting the hearts, or perverting the judgments, of
those who possess them.
How dreadful, and almost unparalleled in the annals
of history, were the slaughters and devastations that
attended the irruptions of the Tartars under Genghiz
Khan, Hulago, and Timour—the consequent oppressions
of these rude and unfeeling masters and their successors—
or the violent and sanguinary factions, that in frequent
contests for rule, floated the land with blood! Yet, even
times of horror and anarchy like these, were followed by a
state of things, that concurred less to the happiness of the
people than could be readily pre-supposed. They were
emancipated, it is true, from a foreign yoke; and the
harvests of the cultivator were not so wantonly destroyed,
or their produce, with the hard earnings of the industrious
labourer and mechanic, so rudely wrested from their hands.
But, great were the evils that remained; a half-desponding,
an abject spirit, had taken place; and there was an
extensive depravation of morals; that, in the efforts made
to establish the Sefian family on the throne, led to continual
acts of outrage. And this tendency in the people was
never more fully accordant with the tyranny of their
rulers, than during the time that degenerate race possessed
the sovereignty of Persia, from the day of carnage that first
stigmatized the sanguinary reign of Ismael, on his taking
possession of the city of Tabriz, A. D. 1503, and the
almost incredibly deliberate slaughter he committed on his
own subjects four years afterwards in Shiraz, when near
forty thousand were destroyed,—down to the wretched
reign of Hosain, that began in 1694. This race of tyrants,
or, as they are emphatically termed in the phrase of their own
language, WORKERS OF INIQUITY, and DEVOURERS
OF BLOOD, are so well characterized by the pen of the late
Sir William Jones, that I cannot forbear quoting the passage:
—“ISMAIL had many eminent qualities; but he
sullied them all by his detestable CRUELTY. His successors,
without excepting ABBAS, absurdly called the
Great, were such a disgrace to human nature, that an
account of their lives would be more like a description
of the tygers in some public collection of wild beasts,
than a piece of history. Almost every day of their lives
was distinguished by some horrid act of intemperance,
lust, or murder, aggravated by some new circumstance
of wickedness: their very love was fierce and inhuman;
and they burned, for the slightest offences, the most
beautiful women of Asia; either because they declined
drinking a cup of wine more than usual, or interceded for
some courtier in disgrace. At length the vein of inhumanity
seemed exhausted in the family, and left nothing
behind it but an inconceivable stupidity.”
On the death of Shah Abbas II. who fell a victim to
drinking and debauchery, in 1664, his son was invested
with the sword of authority, and ascended the throne, by
the name of Shah Sefi II.; but soon after abdicated it for
a day; during which it was put into the mock possession
of one of the degraded Gaures, or worshippers of fire, a
descendant of the Rostam race; who, with all due solemnity,
was deposed at an appointed minute in the evening;
in compliance with an ancient custom or law, that prescribed
this form, with many ridiculous ceremonies, whenever
the sovereign should incline to change his name.
Sefi, persuaded by his physicians that his ill health had
arisen from having been first seated on the throne in an
unlucky hour, was weak enough to employ this expedient, of
reascending from one that was deemed propitious, according
to the fooleries of astrological superstition, by the name of
Selyman. His health soon afterwards amending, in conjunction
with some other favourable circumstances, the
first astrologers of the court were disgraced, through the
intrigues of the doctors; as several of their profession had
been recently maltreated through the machinations of the
astrologers.
Shah Selyman had passed the whole of his youth indolently
in the Haram. The cultivation of his mind was
there almost totally neglected; being at the same time as
destitute of good examples around him, as he was of preceptive
instruction; and equally ignorant of all maxims
of government, and the conduct of state affairs, as though
he had been the son of a peasant, bred obscurely in a distant
province. Perhaps more so; for having, until the
death of his father, been precluded from conversing with,
or even seeing any persons, but black eunuchs, and women
of the Haram Serai, when the reins of government were
placed in his hands, the leading traits of character he soon
displayed, were those that might be reasonably expected to
result from such an education—sloth, cruelty, and lasciviousness;
of which the two latter qualities seem, in some
sort, to be the portion of inheritance. He for a long time
gave full scope to the inhumanity of his disposition, and
the capricious dislikes, jealousies, and unfounded suspicions
of a weak head, united to a depraved heart; disgracing,
banishing, destroying, many of his begs and chief
officers of state; some of whom were put to death on the
most trivial occasions and surmises. At length, wholly
abandoned to wine and women, he took no part whatever
in public affairs; reposing full confidence in his prime
vizier Mirza Taher—an old man, devoid of all public principle
—an artful dissimulator, corrupt and sordid to an
extreme degree. His favour, his interest, was always to
be purchased; and the most inconsiderable gifts were
never unwelcome to his hand.
In a reign so uncongenial to every thing great or
good, it was the lot of ACHMED to obtain, through
adventitious circumstances, an unexpected rise to favour,
fortune, and command, without any departure from principles
of integrity. Well had it been for this unhappy
prince, and the people of that vast empire, had his court
and his councils known the presence of a few more such
characters. At what period of his reign Achmed was
received into favour, or disgraced and banished, does not
appear; neither is the name of his ungrateful adversary
mentioned; whose advancement or prosperity was, however,
of no long duration. Such turns of fortune were not
unfrequent in the time of the Sefis.
Shah Selyman reigned upwards of thirty years; and fell
at length a victim to libidinous excesses, and almost continual
inebriety, as his father and grandfather had done
before him.
The manners of the sovereign, (especially when leading,
through a relaxation of morals, to sensual indulgencies)
must inevitably produce, in a country governed by his arbitrary
will, a very strong influence on the morals and the
manners of those around him, ever aspiring to higher
degrees of favour and advancement. The Persians had
been long an indolent and voluptuous people; and the
courts of the Sefis were notoriously the haunts of all, that,
in true policy, should have been kept at a distance from
them. Even the early habitudes, or the cultivated and
reflecting mind of Achmed, seem to have afforded no insuperable
barriers against the seductive pomp and luxury of
the court, the banquet, and the haram. But, there was an
unthought-of remedy in the hand of Providence, against
the prevailing influence and evil tendency of these:—
“Happiness flows not to us through the channel of our
wills.”
The poems of Achmed contain more than the wild
sportings of oriental fancy. Nature ever appeared before
him, and her love gave being to his sentiments, and
birth to his effusions. He has not only, in a very peculiar
manner, interwoven a variety of picturesque description,
with a train of the most trying circumstances and situations,
such as are very remote from the common experiences of
mankind in this quarter of the globe; but they may be also
considered, as displaying the faithful portraiture of no
common mind, from the noon of prosperous fortune,
through the night of adversity, to the day-spring of consolation;
from the agitations of youth, to tranquil happiness
in the advance of life, when the autumnal calm of
thought had matured the fruits of experience. “Quanto
aliquis magis sibi unitus et interius simplificatus fuerit,
tanto plura et altiora sine labore intelligit.”
As these poems contain many sentiments and allusions,
that are not strictly conformable to the creed, the manners,
and customs of Mahomedans in general, and the Turks in
particular, it will not, perhaps, be unacceptable to the
reader, if I point out, briefly, the origin of that difference,
and wherein it really consists, together with a few connecting
circumstances of Persian history. And this I am
the better enabled to do, from the communications of a
much valued friend, a man of rank and great literary talents,
who resided several years in various countries of the East;
as well as through my intimate acquaintance with a native
of Persia—a Mahomedan of liberal sentiments and extensive
information, who had been educated in the principles
of the Shiahs, or sect of ALI.
The SUNNIS, though they term themselves orthodox, are
divided into sects, who follow the different opinions of their
four great doctors, Hanifa, Malec, Shafei, and Hanbal; but
the Shiahs, from admitting a greater freedom of discussion,
and extent of enquiries, have produced five principal sects,
that are said again to have branched themselves into near
seventy subdivisions, under various appellations; all differing
in some certain points of opinion, yet all united in believing
with the Sunnis, the divine mission of their prophet
MAHOMED, and the sacred authority of the Koran. The
SUNNIS derive their name from the Arabic word SUNEH,
which signifies the second, or Oral Law; having never
been delivered by their legislator in writing, but collected
from the remembrance of his words and actions, and
handed down by tradition, through the medium of authorized
persons. Several of the Musulman doctors have
collected these oral precepts, and written comments on
them; and it is by the means and application of these,
that they have attempted to explain many ambiguities that
are to be found in the book of their written law. On these
traditions the chief part of their ceremonial and exterior
observances are founded. The Shiahs have also many
oral laws and precepts, both of Mahomed and the Imans,
that have been transmitted through very different hands.
The word SHIAH is Arabic; it implies a herd, a schism,
or a faction; and is used by the SUNNIS as a term of
reproach: whilst the Shiahs assume to themselves the
appellation of Alâdeliat, or the sect of the Just. The leading
causes of this division originated in the arts, the
intrigues, and undue influence, employed at the appointment
of the three first khalifs. Abou Bekr, Omar, and
Othman, having been elected successively in preference to
ALI, who succeeded them; and was by a very numerous,
though not the most affluent party, deemed the rightfully
immediate successor of Mahomed. This claim they endeavoured
to support by arguments drawn from various circumstances;
such as, that he was not only the cousin german,
but the son in law, of the Prophet; having married
his daughter Fatima, by whom he had three sons, Hassan,
Hosain, and Mohassan; that therefore he and his descendants,
who were the race of the Prophet, had a natural and
legal claim: that, in addition to this, he stood first amongst
the faithful, being the earliest convert the Prophet gained;
possessing, in his full confidence, the most perfect knowledge
of his mission; and even, in some sort, a participation
of it;—that heaven, in a peculiar manner, had sanctified
his entrance into the world, by causing him to be born in
the temple of Mecca—a circumstance that never occurred
in another instance either before or since—on this the
Heidarians lay much stress;—and, that the Almighty had
marked him as a chosen favourite, by endowing him with
many excellencies and divine graces; gifting him also
with those superior capacities of mind, that rendered the
acquisition of learning and the sciences more pleasant than
difficult to him. Hence it was, that when the influence
and intrigues of the opposing party had greatly embarrassed
the state of public affairs, that ALI was heard to say,
“GOD, in the distribution of his gifts, has been pleased to
favour me with understanding and with knowledge; but
to my enemies he has given a different portion, they have
riches.” The hatred of the Ommiades against the house
of Ali, ceased not with the bloody deed of Abdal rathman;
who, in league with two other assassins, by the instigation
of a woman at Coufa, cleft his head with a poisoned scimeter,
in the mosque where he was officiating as chief
iman. His two sons, Hassan and Hosain, were afterwards
both destroyed by the inveterate and cruel enemies of their
race. The first, though he had relinquished all claim to
the khalifat, in favour of Moaviah, and had long devoted
himself entirely to a religious life: yet, the workings of a
malignant heart, in conjunction with the ambitious design
of Moaviah, to insure the succession of the khalifat to his
own family, caused him to suborn the perfidious wife of
Hassan, by costly presents, and the promise of being soon
united in marriage with his son Yezid. Through these inducements
she perpetrated the deliberate murder of her
husband, by wiping him with an envenomed napkin whilst
he was in a profuse sweat. He was no sooner dead, than
Moaviah sent her five hundred thousand drachmas of silver,
as the price of her crime: but he refused to fulfil the other
part of his promise—the presenting his son with such a
detestable wife. That son, however, could scarcely be
deemed worthy of a better help-mate; nor perhaps could
he have found one with dispositions more congenial to his
own; for he was unprincipled, cruel, and avaricious.
In the sixty-first year of the hejra, A. D. 680, on gaining
intelligence that Hosain (whom he had before basely
attempted to destroy by poison) was crossing the desert,
from Mecca to Coufa, attended only by his own children
and relations on horseback, to the number of seventy-two,
and a few Arabian soldiers on foot—Yezid, in the implacable
spirit of destruction, had so concerted measures with
Obeidallah, the general of his army, that Hosain and his
company were unexpectedly surrounded, by ten thousand
horse, on the plains of Kerbela. He, seeing no alternative,
but that of surrendering himself and family to an
inveterate enemy, who had already decreed his death, or to
fall bravely on the field, choose the latter; and, after maintaining
for some time this very unequal conflict, was overpowered,
and cut in pieces, with all his company. The
Persians, therefore, never pronounce the name of Yezid,
without adding, “lainetulla alaihi,”—the curse of God
be upon him; or some other phrase of similar import.
Even the very name of Yezid, is used by them to signify
any thing accursed, cruel, infamously wicked, and abominable.
This massacre, which took place on the tenth of the
month Moharam, answering to our 25th of October, is kept
in perpetual remembrance by the Persians; who annually
devote the ten following days to public lamentation for the
death of Hosain. This season of abstinence and mourning
they call Ashour; and many amongst them employ it as
much to excite a spirit of hatred and revenge against the
Sunnis, as to purposes of devotion, or expressing their
grief for the premature death of him, whom they venerate
as a saint, a prophet, and a martyr.
A sumptuous monument was erected on the plain of
Kerbela, over the spot where his body is said to have been
interred; and another, with a magnificent mosque, where
his head was deposited in Egypt. The former is still resorted
to by numerous pilgrims from the Persian provinces; with
the same devotion that induces them to visit the tomb of
his father ALI, near Coufa. From these pilgrims the
Turkish governor of Bagdad extorts a kind of capitation
tax.
The blood of this family, however, was not shed without
many dreadful instances of retaliation. Mokhtar ben
Abou Obeideh, an Arabian chieftain, and head of a powerful
party, often exulted, that he alone had occasioned the
destruction of at least fifty thousand enemies of the house
of ALI; exclusively of the great numbers his troops had
slain in battle: for, with this object of his vengeance only
in view, he continued his hostile attacks, and almost daily
slaughters, during the reigns of three following khalifs.
The nine Imans of the house of Ali, who successively
held that station after the death of Hosain, maintained
of course, with their followers, the exclusive right of the
descendants of Ali, who were the offspring of Fatima (for
he had many children by other wives), to have the supreme
direction in all matters of government and religion,
throughout the vast extent of the khalifat; deeming the
heads of the other party usurpers, and their adherents
rebels and heretics. They, however, at no time proceeded
so far in their inveteracy as the Ommiades had done; who
caused the family of Ali to be publicly cursed in their
temples; though the compliment was long afterwards
repaid by the Abbasides, at Bagdad.
The extraordinary course of events that raised the family
of BOUID, a poor fisherman, to the sovereignty of Persia,
under the khalifat of Moctader, A. H. 321, A. D. 932,
forming a dynasty of seventeen princes, that reigned 127
years, made an important epoch in the history of the
Shiahs.
Although, from political motives, the Bouides did not
openly profess themselves of the sect of Ali, they failed not
to exert their utmost endeavours to advance the interests
of the SHIAHS; not only within their own dominions,
and with the neighbouring princes, but even at the court
of the khalifs of Bagdad; whilst the Shiahs, in return, as
strongly attached themselves to the sultans of the house of
Bouid. Their party became rapidly strengthened; and,
about the 336th year of the hejra, when Moezaldoulet
held a complete influence, or rather, a sovereign command,
over the khalif MOTHI LILLAH, as he had usurped over
his predecessor MOSTACFI; the Sunnis, finding their
interests decline, though they were still very powerful at
the court of the khalif, united themselves with the party of
the Turks, and a civil war ensued.
These divisions at length caused even the destruction of
Bagdad; which became an easy conquest when assaulted
by the fury of the Tartars. HULAGO, the blood-insatiate
khan of these savage hordes, not content with the sacrifice
of the khalif Almostazem and his two sons (Mirkhond says
four), gave up that noble city and its environs to the
rapacity and devastating rage of his soldiers; and all their
inhabitants to brutal violation and indiscriminate slaughter;
so that no less than one million six hundred thousand persons,
of both sexes, fell the victims of barbarian cruelty in
the course of a few days—the greater part of the city was
destroyed by fire—and the treasures that fell into the hands
of the Tartars were immense; for Bagdad was at that time
the most powerful, and the richest city in the whole
world.
Such were the dreadful consequences of civil and religious
discord, and such the termination of the empire of
the khalifs; after it had continued the vast sway of its
power, and stronger influence, over all the West of Asia,
near seven hundred years. This event happened in the
656th year of the hejra, A. D. 1258.
Timour, usually called by European writers Tamerlane,
is said to have been educated in the religion of the Dalai
Lama; which had been long held by the Mongouls, and
many other Tartar nations. Afterwards, becoming a convert
to the Musulman faith, he was, from that time, a
favourer of the sect of Ali; and, after his return from the
conquest of those countries bordering on the Tigris and
Euphrates, he not only became the patron of the Seids, or
descendants of Ali Mortiza; but, to evince his great veneration
for the heads of that house, he assigned the districts
of Bukhef and Jillah for the service of the sepulchre of
Ali; whom, in addition to his Arabian titles “Asad Allah
al Ghaleb”—the victorious lion of God; he stiled “the
Commander of true believers—the King of Men.” He
likewise assigned lands and very considerable revenues, for
the magnificent and perpetual support of the shrines of
Hosein, and those of many others of that race, in Babylonian
Irak, Persia, and Turkestan; who were estimated as
saints and martyrs, and their tombs resorted to by innumerable
pilgrims of the Shiah persuasion, as places of highly
acceptable devotion. This in him was the depth of policy.
Timour, ever ardent in the pursuit of conquest, reverted
from no means, however sanguinary or insidious they might
be, to effectuate his designs, extend his vast dominion, and
establish his almost unequalled power. A robber, an assassin,
may be superstitious; but he cannot pursue his evil course
with the love of God, with the interests of religion sincerely
at his heart. Such might however as reasonably array
himself in the simulacra of piety and devotion, as the
ambitious and cruel spoiler; who not only over-ran, but
desolated countries, even without any cause of quarrel;—
here giving up populous cities to saccage and the flames;
there deluging the land with blood; and leading into
Tartarian slavery, those still more cruelly reserved from
slaughter.
A circumstance, however, happened on Timour’s passing
through the city of Ardebeil, that has been much praised
by oriental writers, as an act of heroic clemency in him,
and which led to many important events in after ages.
There lived at that time in Ardebeil, a descendant of Ali,
called Sheikh Sefi, or Sefi-eddin, which signifies the purity
of religion. He was as much beloved for his amiable manners,
active benevolence, and integrity, as he was venerated
for his piety, his understanding, and his knowledge.
Timour had brought with him from Caramania, a great
many young captives in chains; whom he had cooly and
deliberately resolved to put to death, on some Tartarian
festival, or other public occasion. He had heard the fame
of Sefi-eddin, his virtues, and endowments; and wished to
obtain his good opinion and his friendship. With this
design he paid him several visits; and, being about to quit
Ardebeil, on taking leave of the holy man, desired him to ask
any thing that was in his power to comply with, and it should
be granted. Sefi-eddin having been informed of Timour’s
horrid intention to destroy these unfortunate and unoffending
young people, made it his immediate and only request,
that their lives might be spared. Timour, in the earnest
desire to oblige him, not only granted that request, but
gave them all to him, as his slaves, to dispose of as he should
think fit. This worthy man, rejoicing in the opportunity
he had of doing good, with sentiments very different from
those of the Tartarian emperor, who, in granting life, could
resign it still to slavery,—caused them immediately to be
freed from their chains, provided them with the best provisions
and apparel it was in his power to bestow, and sent
them, with his good wishes, to their native country.
These, and their relatives, who were some of the principal
people of Caramania, felt so strongly the obligation they
owed their benefactor, that, in attempting to express it, they
spoke the very language of extravagance; and, to convince
him how truly grateful they were, made him frequent
visits; which, according to the custom of the East, were
seldom unaccompanied with gifts. A day rarely passed in
which he was not visited by many: his manners and converse
won every heart,—his delight was to instruct,—and
his sayings were treasured as the words of wisdom.
They even enjoined their children to observe towards
the descendants of this holy man, the same unremitted
attentions and tokens of gratitude. Such were accordingly
continued through several generations; until the growing
affluence of the SEFIS, and the greatly-increased number
of their visitants, who were become converts to the
peculiar doctrines of religion, which this family had derived
from their ancestor,—excited jealous apprehensions in the
mind of a Turcoman prince, called Jehan Shah, who at
that time reigned in Azarbijian. He peremptorily ordered
Sheikh JUNEID (then the chief of the family) to receive
no more of those visits.
The Sheikh, well convinced that his longer continuance
at Ardebeil would expose him to imminent danger,
fled for refuge to the court of Usumcassan, Sultan of the
Turcomans of the tribe of the white ram, who reigned in
Mesopotamia. This prince received him with kindness,
afforded an asylum to his followers, and, not long afterwards,
gave him his own daughter in marriage; by whom
Juneid had a son, called Heidar. Sheikh Juneid commanded
the troops of Usumcassan many years, during
the wars he carried on against the King of Georgia; whose
capital, Trebisonde, a city strongly fortified, he obtained
possession of, and left his son Heidar governor of it. He
soon became a favourite of the conquered people; many
of whom embraced the Mahomedan doctrines, and united
themselves to the Shiahs.
Sheikh Juneid, now become rich and powerful, attempted
to establish himself in the province of Shirvan, on the
western coast of the Caspian sea. His numerous adherents
were all of the sect of Ali, and enthusiasts in the
promulgation of the Sefian tenets. But, neither the number
of those devoted to his faith and family, nor his vast
wealth, could secure him from a dark conspiracy formed
by the chiefs of the country; by whose hands he was
slain, after a resolute defence, together with many of his
party.
The number of the Shiahs, and the very zealous profession
they made of defending both their religious principles,
and the remaining chiefs of their party, at all
hazards, rendered them still formidable: but far more so
when Sheikh Heidar, having obtained a considerable body
of troops, with permission from Usumcassan, to lead them
against the conspirators in Shirvan, with the intention of
inflicting exemplary punishment on the tyrant Farrokhzad;
through whose treacherous rapacity his father had been
slain: but, in this attempt, he lost his own life; many of
his followers fell with him; and those who could not save
themselves by flight, were, soon after, massacred by the
Sunnis with all the aggravations of cruelty.
The character of Sheikh Heidar was, in many respects,
similar to that of Sheikh Sefi: but, being at an early age
led into a military life, the subsequent fate of his father,
friends, and adherents, roused him from that tranquil state,
which it would have been probably the object of his life to
maintain, and impelled him to the field. His mind, naturally
of a serious and contemplative cast, sought for retirement;
he was studious, abstemious in his living, simple in
his manners, ever faithful to his word; and, having obtained
the reputation of piety and virtue during his life,
was venerated after his death, as a saint and martyr to the
doctrines of the Shiahs. From him that sect in Persia have
been called Heidarians.
His two sons, Ali Mirza and Shah Ismael, fell into the
hands of Rostam Beg, the son of Maksoud; who, after
putting Ali Mirza to death, dismissed the other; but, soon
afterwards, sent messengers in pursuit of Ismael, in hopes
to destroy him also: but, in vain; the boy, young as he
was, found means to elude them, and concealed himself in
a small island, situated in the lake of Vasthan; where he
was protected by an Armenian Christian;—and, from that
circumstance, Christians of all denominations were favorably
treated by the Sefis. Shah Ismael having, at the
end of six years, quitted his place of concealment, although
he had not then completed his fifteenth year, was placed by
the Shiahs at the head of 7000 Caramanians, who, entering
Shirvan, overthrew Farrokhzad, and severely retaliated on
him and his party the barbarous destruction they had made,
of his family and friends.
From that time a series of victories attended Ismael, who
assumed the name of Ismael Sophi. He freed Persia from
the Turcoman yoke; and, uniting the petty sovereignties
into one empire, established himself on the throne of Persia,
A. H. 910, A. D. 1504; which continued in the
possession of his descendants, till Shah Thamasp was deposed
by Kouli Khan; who, in the year 1736, attempted to
subject the Shiahs to a compliance with the Sunni forms;
and, on the chief Iman remonstrating against it, ordered
him immediately to be put to death: but the Shiahs are
yet the most numerous party in Persia. Those amongst them
who devote themselves to a religious life, are called Sofian;
the word SOFI in the Persian language signifying pious, intelligent,
and spiritual: though some, from the circumstance
of their wearing, like the Seids, or race of Mahomed, only
woollen, derive the name from Souf; which, in the
Arabic, signifies wool. These not only profess a voluntary
poverty, and humility, as the dervishes amongst other
sects of Mahomedans do; but, in addition to this, they
appropriate a certain portion of time to reading—to the
acquisition of scientific knowledge—viewing the beauties
of nature—and meditating on the works and attributes of
God. Some of them, who dedicate the chief part of their
time to SILENT RETIREMENT, seek, in an abnegation of
the world and of self, the enjoyment of a spiritual intercourse
with the Supreme Being.
To shew their manner of thinking, and expressing their
sentiments on this and some other subjects, I quote the
following passages.
“It is from our humility, and the inaction of self, that
the rays of a divine light shall shine forth—that our hearts
shall feel its influence, and be renewed—and that all our
affections shall be changed. When the dawn of this
light shall begin to appear on our horizon, nothing shall
be heard but the voice of prayer.”
“An attentive regard to the presence of God (said Abul
Cassem al Cavarini), is the particular exercise of the
spiritual man in this life; for it is that which shall constitute
his happiness in heaven.”
“A man is to be valued by that which he esteems: if
he esteem the world, he himself is not estimable; for the
world is not so. If he esteem the life to come, and the
things thereof, heaven is his price. But, if he estimate
God above all things, his own value is inestimable.”
“When an evil destiny scatters the seeds of calamity
over the earth, the wise man finds a sure asylum from
the troubles of the world in study and devotion.”
A spiritual and devout Musulman has expressed himself
thus, in regard to a future state of felicity:
“O you, that invite me to enjoy the delights of Paradise,
know, that it is not Paradise I seek; but I seek the face
of him by whom Paradise was created.” To obtain that
supreme felicity, the KORAN thus prescribes the means, at
the conclusion of the chapter of Amran: “Ye who are
already of the faithful, it remains for you to suffer—to
persevere—to attach yourselves to God, and to walk
with fear before him; for by this way shall you at length
arrive at the enjoyment of Paradise.”
This text one of their commentators interprets in this
manner: “Suffer, in combatting your passions, and subjecting
them to the service of God;—persevere in the
endeavour to unite your hearts to the will of the most
Merciful; resigning yourselves to him during the
afflictions of life, and acquiescing in all things to the
order of his providence;—attach and bind your spirits
solely to the thought of uniting yourselves to him, and
withdrawing them from every vain imagination that may
tend to separate you from him;—preserve carefully and
anxiously the graces that God shall bestow upon you,
and beware lest you lose them by a too familiar intercourse
with the world. Thus shall you obtain that felicity,
which consists in being develloped from the veil of
the creature, to be reduced to nothingness of self in
God; and, to pass from this state of annihilation, to a
permanent and unalterable existence in him.”
One of those spirituals addressed the Almighty in this
manner: “One man asks thee, O Lord! for the enjoyment
of paradise; and another earnestly prays thee for
deliverance from hell and its punishments: but I ask
thee neither for the one nor the other of these;—my
only desire is, that in me THY WILL may be accomplished.”
“The frequent expression of thankfulness, will not
only produce an increase of GRATITUDE in our hearts,
—but also obtain an increase of the divine favour towards
him, who employs his heart and his tongue in that which
is good. It is an exercise that dissipates all the diseases of
the soul, and heals all the wounds of the heart.”
Such are the general sentiments of the SOFIS, in regard
to the contemplative and spiritual life they profess to follow.
Their hours, however, have not always been devoted
to solitary meditation, to abstinence, and prayer, alone;
for, amongst their fraternity have been found many excellent
masters in science, a few good poets, besides various
writers on the subjects of morality and religion; and of
these there are some whose works would be deemed, if
well translated into the European languages, no useless
additions to the mass of that literary mountain of which
we boast.
The Mahomedans have long born the stigma of an
uncharitable narrowness of mind towards people of other
professions, and Christians in particular. This unjust idea
may be traced as far back in our history, as the barbarous
times, whose blind bigotry gave rise to the desolating wars
of the crusades; that seemed built on the model of those
of the early khalifs, for the propagation of the faith, and
and obtaining salvation by the sword. The Turks and
Persians, not only as contending nations, but, as Shiahs and
Sunnis, have indeed long combatted and reviled each other,
with prejudices that have not been of a very dissimilar cast
from those of some nations and sectaries in Europe that call
themselves Christians; but the general charge of intolerance
is certainly ill-founded. Christian churches and
monasteries have been, and are still, not only permitted but
protected, both in Turky and Persia:—but where, at the
same time, would the Musulman doctrines have been
equally tolerated in Europe, had they thought fit to send
missionaries amongst us, as both Protestants, and the church
of Rome, have sent to them? Russia, indeed, has freely
tolerated her Moslem subjects of various Tartar tribes and
nations; and even admitted others to form free settlements,
under the government of their own laws and chieftains,
where they have their mosques, public schools, and
colleges, in the very heart of that empire, particularly on
the banks of the Volga, in and near the city of Casan. At
Orenburg, and in the country round, there are numerous
colonies from Bocharia, and other parts North of the
Jihon; besides large bodies of settled Tartars, and other
tribes, that, having recently migrated thither,—though still
retaining an attachment to that wandering life in which
they had formed their habitudes,—yet, the encouragements
they have had to settle, with the enjoyment of their native
freedom, laws, and religion, have almost fixed them there,
There are also many Turcomans, Arabs, and Persians, who
are settled in and near Astrachan. The latter are known by
the name of Kisilbashkians, or red heads; from the taje, or
red cap they wear, as being of the sect of Ali. Some of these,
with whom I have conversed in Russia, expressed themselves
to live very happy and unrestrained in that country: though
the Nogayan Tartars, who dwell in their vicinity, and are
SUNNIS, regard them with an evil eye. This is sectarian
enmity. The genuine principles of their lawgiver were
very different. “The Alcoran (says Angelo St. Joseph,
a missionary of the order of bare-footed Carmelites, who
resided many years in Persia) “the Alcoran teaches, that
each one may be saved by his own law.” (vide chap. 2.)
Those who believe, Christians or Sabaites,—those who
believe in God—in a future judgment—and who do
good works, shall be recompensed by their Lord, and
shall be exempted from fear and affliction in the day of
resurrection.”
Neither is that idea of sensual enjoyments in a future
state (usually deemed a principal part of their creed) the
real doctrine of the Moslems. The Shiahs in particular
understand those passages in the Koran, that seem to countenance
such notions, as merely figurative. Hence a Persian
author says—“The happiness which the blessed enjoy,
in pronouncing the names and the glorious attributes of
God, is more delightful to them, than even their abode
in Paradise itself;—for though, in this region of bliss,
there is an inexhaustible series of joys that know no end;
yet these are accounted as nothing by the spirits of the
blest, in comparison with the union which they have
with God.”——“The enjoyment of the divine presence
constitutes the supreme happiness of the blest in heaven;
as banishment from that presence constitutes the most
painful punishment of hell.”
I could here point out many other opinions that are
frequently mentioned, as generally characteristic of the
disciples of Mahomed—that are equally as unfounded in
fact, as some I have already noticed: such as that of
women having no share in a future state—that there is a
merit in an ignorant and blind belief—that learning and the
sciences are to be depressed and rejected—that voluptuousness,
pride, and rapacity, are countenanced by their
law; &c. &c. So far are the latter positions untrue, that the
whole tenor of the Koran militates against them: and how
contradictory to these their maxims and sayings,—“What
is the proper habit of a man, but the robe of purity and
humility?” “The torn vest of Moses is preferable to
“the embroidered robe of Pharoah.” “He who restrains
his desires, and lives in a state of self-denial, shall pass
the sea of covetousness, and rest on the shores of peace.”
The liberal man is the neighbour of God, the neighbour
of mankind, the neighbour of Paradise; but far
remote from the neighbourhood of hell.” “The fear of
poverty is a token of the wrath of God on him who is
seized with it.” A Dervish, who was truly poor, being
asked by a great prince, if he never thought of him in his
necessities, replied, “I sometimes think of you; but ’tis
only when I forget to think of God.” “Knowledge is a
treasure, of which the employment determines the
value.” “He that experiences, increaseth knowledge;
but he who believeth, increases error.” “One hour to
the learned man, is worth a whole life of ignorance.”
Limit thy desire of gold; but let thy pursuit of science
know no bound.” “In riches or descent there is nothing
to ennoble the mind; but, by learning and science, the
mind becomes truly dignified.”
“If there be nothing in my words (said the Arabian
legislator, addressing the people) but that which makes
you DOUBTFUL of your hereditary belief, even THAT
is sufficient for your good;—for he that doubts not, considers
not; and he that considers not, examines not;
but remains in a state of ignorance and error.”
As to the commonly received opinion, of their holding
that women have no souls, which has even been asserted
by some respectable writers, I am convinced that it is
totally unfounded; for, in addition to the authority of
Mons. D’Herbelot, who says it originated from a joke that
was passed on an old woman; I have heard the notion
seriously contradicted by Mahomedans themselves, both
of the Sunni and Shiah persuasion.
In concluding this long and multifarious Introduction, I
have only to say, it was written chiefly for the purpose of
giving, under a more general form, that information to the
reader, which I hope will render notes on many particular
passages of the Poems unnecessary; as such references are
too liable to interrupt in the course of reading.
ACHMED ARDEBEILI.
YESTERDAY.
SAY, ye studious, grave, and old,
Tell me, all ye fair and gay,
Tell me, where I may behold
The fleeting forms of YESTERDAY?
Where’s autumnal plenty sped?
Winter! where’s thy boisterous sway?
Where’s the vernal flowret fled?
Summer! where’s thy YESTERDAY?
Jocund sprites of social joy
Round our smiling goblet play;
Flit ye powers of rude annoy,
Like the ghost of YESTERDAY.
Odorous sweets,—and KERZEROM
1 wine,
Hither, boy! with speed convey;
Jasmin wreaths with roses twine,
Ere they fade like YESTERDAY.
Brim the bowl, and pass it round;
Lightly tune the sportive lay:
Let the festal hour be crown’d,
Ere ’tis lost like YESTERDAY!
THE
VOLUPTUARY.
THE toils the dangers now of WAR are o’er;
The glittering sabre I with joy resign:
No generous WARRIOR thirsts for human gore.
Boy! fill the golden cup with sparkling WINE.
Let the old DERVISH sacred deem his cell,
And waste in moping thought his stagnant hours;
With pining ABSTINENCE for ever dwell,
And shun the path that NATURE strews with flowers.
To HIM, perhaps, far more congenial, gloom
The midnight horrors of the lonely grove;
Than all the varied sweets, the varied bloom
Of fairy fields, where souls enchanted rove.
To HIM the death-toned screaming bird of night,
Responsive to the lion’s hungry howl,
And gliding spectres, yield a dire delight.
Boy! fill the censer—fill the sparkling bowl.
To wine—to mirth—I dedicate my days;
To mirth—to wine—I dedicate my song:
Dear, lovely WOMAN, too, shall share my praise,
To her sweet praise the sweetest notes belong.
Boy! bring more WINE—the golden goblet crown,
And wreaths of myrtle round my turban twine:
In floods of nectar every care we’ll drown,
O scatter FLOWERS around, and bring me WINE!
Vainly would man in dreams of soft repose,
Ignobly waste his listless life away;
As well might sleep o’erspread the blushing ROSE,
While flows the NIGHTINGALE’s melodious lay.
How should TRANQUILLITY its charms impart?
Ye lovely Maids who all despotic reign,
You ravish PEACE resistless from my heart,
As tempests tear the sheep-cotes from the plain.
Boy! bring me WINE, more WINE with speed supply;
Pour till the golden goblets all run o’er.
Let the gay carpet be no longer dry.
Pour till the crimson torrent float the floor.
What joys more rapturous can immortals prove
In all the glories of their state divine?
Here, songs of GLADNESS hail the joys of LOVE.
Boy! scatter FLOWERS around, and bring me WINE.
THE
NIGHTINGALE AND ROSE.
TO
SELIMA.
THE plaintive minstrel of the midnight grove
Had ceased his song. Now beam’d the orient day,
And all the powers of young DELIGHT and LOVE
Hail’d the glad influence of the morning ray.
On the bent foot-stalk of the lovely flower
Whose virgin beauties now their tints disclose,
Blind to a thousand blooms that graced the bower,
The love-sick NIGHTINGALE address’d the ROSE.
‘Fairest of all the daughters of the spring;
Supreme o’er all the flowers that round thee bloom;
To whom all captive hearts their tribute bring;
O why effuse that more than sweet perfume?
‘My raptured senses thrill with soft delight
Till pleasing languor steals thro’ all my frame.
The lamp of LOVE thus glows serenely bright,
Effusing odours that the soul inflame.’
In bashful silence blush’d the lovely ROSE,
While sportive Zephyr midst her foliage play’d,
Bidding the infant buds their tints disclose,
And to the NIGHTINGALE these notes convey’d.
‘Know, sweetest warbler, to requite thy song,
Whose plaintive melody enchants the soul,
These balms of Eden as I flew along
From the entrancing SELIMA I stole.
‘From her soft bosom bore them to this bower,
And breath’d their fragrance on thy darling flower.’
BLISSFUL MOMENTS.
CARE enough—enough of SORROW
Every mortal man has known:
Whilst we think upon to-morrow,
What we call’d to-day is flown.
Yes! ’tis flown, let welcome night, then,
Spread her lunar radiance wide,
Let the goblet of DELIGHT, then,
Pour around its circling tide.
Soon the MORN again shall meet us,
Soon the the glorious sun shall rise;
Joys of DAY again shall greet us,
When each nightly rapture dies.
Dreary wretch! whose bounded notions,
Lost in sullen fogs of spleen,
Or like tempest-troubled oceans,
Darken with the darken’d scene!
Let us, nobler souls possessing,
If we cannot fight with FATE,
Grasp at bliss, enjoy each blessing,
Tho’ of momentary date.
BLISSFUL MOMENTS—still uniting,
Hours—and days—and years compose;
Let us then, new JOYS inviting,
Happier moments add to those.
CARE, avaunt thee! ENVY, perish!
What have we with GRIEF to do?
MIRTH, GOOD-HUMOUR, LOVE we’ll cherish,
JOYS embrace and JOYS pursue.
TO
SELIMA.
FAIR blooms the ROSE, but more than doubly fair,
Ting’d with fresh bloom from beauty’s cheek divine,
What balmy odours scent the vernal air,
But ah! how heighten’d by the charms of WINE.
How sweet to wander through the shady vale,
Or on the flow’r-clad margin of the stream
Breathe the mild incense jasmine bowers exhale,
And seek their covert from the noon-day beam.
But sweeter far, when to these varied joys,
(Unseen—secluded from life’s busy throng)
Far from the city or the camp’s rude noise,
Soft flows the NIGHTINGALE’s melodious song.
Yet ’midst these scenes where NATURE smiles around,
Aided by all the boasted powers of ART,
The draught of bliss, and MUSIC’s mingling sound,
But vainly strive where LOVE has won the heart.
O SELIMA! dear sociate of my soul,
Deem’st thou thine ACHMED here can find delight?
Can aught of these the anxious sigh controul,
That heaves for thee, in whom all charms unite?
TO
SELIMA.
‘LO! SPRING all sportively with verdure crown’d,
Calls forth his flowers and bids the earth be gay,
Wafts from the woods—the wilds—his balms around,
And tunes the winged warbler’s tenderest lay.
‘Why then reflect on what the fates conceal?
Vain is the thought to learn their dark decree;
ACHMED! this truth alone they will reveal,
The present hour belongs to LOVE and THEE.’
At early dawn as pensively I stray’d,
From past misfortunes boding future woes,
The gentle breeze those pleasing notes convey’d
From the sweet BIRD that loves the opening ROSE.
’Tis NATURE’s voice! ah dearest maid incline
To the soft magic of her artless lay;
So shall thy ACHMED’s bliss increase with thine,
’Till ANGELS envying steal our souls away!
THE
ORPHAN BOY.
WHENCE art thou, whose warblings wild,
On mine ear so sweetly dwell?
‘I’m a hapless ORPHAN CHILD,
Bringing water from the well.
‘If my songs thine ear offend,
I will quickly silent be:
Here I am without a friend!
MOSLEM! speak—I’ll list to thee.’
Little innocent, awhile
Will I shade me from the sun;
With thy songs an hour beguile,
And reward thee when ’tis done.
‘Much I fear my accents rude,
And my songs would worthless be,
Should my singing be pursued,
Hopeful of a gift from thee.
‘Unconstrain’d, with simple voice,
Did my words unheeded flow;
I must never more rejoice:
Grief’s the lot of Man below!
‘With my FATHER’s last embrace,
This he said, and dropt a tear;
Left our home with hurrying pace,
Bade my MOTHER nothing fear.
‘HE was doom’d in fight to fall,
Quickly were the tidings known:
Soon SHE heard the Angel call,
Died, and left her child alone.
‘Friendless—unprotected—here,
Want must still my portion be;
Pity, then, my lot severe,
Gentle MOSLEM! pity me.’
Child of sorrow! wealth is mine;
PITY leads my heart to prove
If a spirit dwells in thine,
Fraught with GRATITUDE and LOVE.
I will take thee, ORPHAN CHILD!
And adopt thee as mine own:
Cease not then thy warblings wild,
Tho’ thy toilsome days be flown.
I’ll protect thy tender years;
Henceforth thy instructor be:
Little warbler dry thy tears,
Leave thy Cruse and follow me.
TO
SELIMA.
THOU, SELIMA! hast seen the tender Fawn,
Heedless of danger many a summer’s day,
Crop the sweet flowers and herbage of the lawn,
And oft around thee sport in harmless play.
Lo! now the hunter’s shout awakes his fears;
In vain, alas! his utmost speed he tries;
In every breeze the voice of death he hears,
With every breeze his soul desponding dies.
Ah! see, to thee he turns with eager speed:
Near thee he seeks protection from the foe:
Canst thou with tearless eye behold him bleed,
Nor strive to shield him from the fatal blow?
And wilt thou, then, dear Maid! one smile refuse,
To sooth the anguish of a faithful heart?
Whom tyrant LOVE unceasingly pursues,
And wounds more deeply than the hunter’s dart.
TO
SELIMA.
WHEN the fair ROSE amidst her flowery train,
With virgin blushes greets the dewy morn;
Say, will th’ enamour’d NIGHTINGALE remain
A lonely warbler on the desert thorn?
When the dark sullen GENIES
2 of the night,
Behold the MOON slow rising o’er the wave,
Those wayward spirits curse the beauteous light,
And hide with ENVY in her gloomy cave.
Yet shall the traveller with enraptured eye,
As late he treads his solitary way,
O’erlook each radiant gem that decks the sky,
Alone rejoicing in her brighter ray.
The sweetest rose that blushful hails the morn;
The moon’s mild lustre rising o’er the main:
The fairest maids GERGESTAN’s
3 blooms adorn;
Or all CIRCASSIA’s lovely virgin train:
These, these, O SELIMA! unnotic’d shine,
Lost in the blaze of thy superior charms;
And whilst I may aspire to call thee mine,
No saint more happy in a HOURI’s
4 arms.
O Angel of delight! of thee possest,
Not Paradise should bribe me from my love;
Ev’n the fond hope that animates my breast,
Speaks the pure raptures of the blest above.
THE
OLD SOLDIER.
REST awhile, disabled soldier!
Here some short refreshment take;
’Tis not fit thou travel further,
Sure thy wearied limbs must ache.
Many a rude and rough encounter
Has thy dauntless breast withstood;
Mark’d with scars—thy pallid features
Tell me thou hast lost much blood.
Well I know the various hardships
Soldiers brave are doom’d to share:
Oft unheeded by commanders,
Who a different burden bear.
I have led to dreadful combat
Troops that nobly scorn’d to yield;
While the OUZBEK’s
5 savage numbers
Vainly strove to gain the field.
Grateful still do I remember,
Wounded, sinking, ’midst the foe,
One much like thee, gallant soldier!
Saved me from the threaten’d blow:
Smote the arm that raised the sabre
Ruthless aim’d against my life;
Bore me fainting from the conflict;
Then resumed the work of strife.
Never could I find the warrior,
Who thus nobly succour’d me:
But if I mistake not, Soldier!
Thy bold visage, thou art he!
‘Valiant leader of the faithful,
Much I joy, this day, to know,
That the efforts of my duty
Saved thee from the raging foe.
‘In that day of dreadful slaughter
Many a valiant MOSLEM
6 fell:
This
sait-numa7 then thou gavest me,
Mark’d the fatal hour too well.
‘Three long years have followed mournful,
Since recovering from my wounds,
Home I sought—but home I found not:
Fate had run his gloomy rounds.
‘LOVE my soul had long united
To a kind and gentle fair:
And one pledge of fond affection
Raised our hopes, and claim’d our care.
‘But, alas! life’s fairy prospects
Pass like summer clouds away.
What is permanent around us,
Who can claim the coming day?
‘Grief, that flow’d from fatal tidings,
Led my sweet love to the tomb;
And the darling boy was quickly
Hurried to some unknown doom.
‘Thus afflicted, still I wander,
With an almost broken heart:
SORROW more than wounds o’erwhelms me,
DOUBT still points AFFLICTION’s dart.
‘What tho’ POVERTY assail me,
Strength destroy’d and spirits fled;
Could I hear my boy were living,
Joy would raise this drooping head.’
Raise it then, long-suffering soldier,
Falshood shall not here beguile;
Heaven ordains the sun of FORTUNE
On thy opening views to smile.
GRATITUDE, of gold unsparing,
Bids thy wants exist no more.—
Cease to sigh—a few short moments
Shall thy long-lost child restore.
Not a little vagrant idler,
But endued with worth and sense:
Well instructed—grateful for it:
He thy love shall recompence.
‘Gracious ALLAH!’ cried the soldier,
I’am raised to life again.
Worldly glories fleet like shadows,
GOOD DEEDS evermore remain.’
TO
SELIMA.
UNRIVALL’D MAID, whose heart-alluring eyes
Call forth yon orb that pours his golden ray
Wide o’er the plain, where ISPHAUN’s
8 minarets rise,
To view thy charms diffuse a brighter day!
When wintry glooms have long o’ercast the sky,
And chilling blasts, from TOURAN’s
9 desert borne,
Cause every flower and fragrant herb to die;
The mournful cypress lifts its head forlorn.
For then, no more soft HEZAR’s
10 soothing song,
Join’d with the shepherd’s voice salutes the vale;
Nor the light breeze from SABA
11 bears along
The mingled fragrance balmy groves exhale.
But when the genial hours of SPRING return,
Fraught with each joy that NATURE’s bosom warms;
The waving cypress shall no longer mourn,
Sweetly surrounded by unnumber’d charms.
Let not, O SELIMA! thy beauty’s SUN,
Veil’d in dark clouds, from ACHMED hide its rays:
No! let it shine on him—on him alone,
Whose lute now sounds enchanted with thy praise.
Life of my soul! withheld by love and thee,
I cease to tempt the dangers of the field:
Nor spoils nor triumphs now have charms for me,
Nor all the gems GOLCONDA’s
12 mountains yield.
This heart, with ardors-grateful saints might own,
Whose songs resound thro’ EDEN’s happy grove,
Lives for its darling SELIMA alone,
Whose form is BEAUTY, and whose soul is LOVE!
TO THE
POPPY.
LET the bards of YEMEN
13 praise
GAUTHA’s
14 groves, and musky gales;
Let the song of rapture raise
All the sweets of SHEDAD’s
15 vales.
SARU
16 boast her favor’d soil,
Orange walks, and viny fields,
That reward their planter’s toil
With every fruit luxuriance yields.
Let the blushful goblet glow
Rich with sparkling draughts of joy;
Let the land of HIND
17 bestow
Gems and gold without alloy.
Pure as ZAGAN’s
18 breezes breathe,
Pure as springs her fount of health,
BENDER-CONGO’s
19 waves bequeath
Boundless gifts of pearly wealth.
Incense from the shades of LAR,
20
Diamonds bring from KORGA’s
21 shore,
Gleaming like the morning star
On the swords of NIZABOUR!
22
SHIRABEH!
23 still thy genial veins afford
A nobler banquet and a richer hoard.
What’s wealth, what’s wine, or balms that scent the air,
To that which eases GRIEF and sooths DESPAIR?
Let the buds of BEAUTY bloom,
Living roses of delight;
Smiling mirth dispelling gloom,
Clad in robes of ruby light.
Every charm with these combine,
FANCY forms and POETS sing;
All that HOPE e’er pictured, mine,
All that FEAR in shades can fling.
Let the worldly-wise disclaim
ACHMED’s hopes and ACHMED’s fears,
Strive to blast his every aim,
And veil his views in clouds of tears.
SHIRABEH! still thy lacteal veins produce
A vital spirit, an etherial juice,
Whose SECRET POWERS thro’ midnight shades display
Far lovelier prospects than th’ autumnal day;
With sportive zephyr blend AFFLICTION’s sigh;
In bowers of bliss seal SORROW’s wasted eye;
Improve the bloom of BEAUTY’s virgin rose;
Heighten each joy that rapturous LOVE bestows;
Aid FANCY’s wing thro’ starry realms to soar;
And ope the treasuries of mystic lore;
To flights sublime inspire the POET’s lay,
’Till sweet Delirium waft his soul away;
Away to unknown regions of delight,
Where forms irradiant meet the wondering sight;
Where happy spirits all benignant glow,
While SELF-LOVE’s giant mantle shrowds the world below.
INSTABILITY OF FAVOR.
LET not the man sustain’d by royal smile,
And thence too surely envied by the great,
Admit the flatterer FANCY to beguile
His reckless heart, a stranger to deceit.
Let him not deem his fairest actions pure
From the dire blasting of calumnious breath;
Nor lay him down to rest at night secure
From mute unpitying messengers of death.
To rank and power unsought I swiftly rose
From humble life,—INTEGRITY my guide;
Shall then, the stream from HONOR’s fount that flows,
Swell the foul gulph of INSOLENCE and PRIDE?
Forbid it, gracious ALLAH! still to thee
O let my daily oraisons ascend
To keep this soul from pride and wealth-love free,
And humbly blest to find one faithful friend.
To seek that blessing ’mid the courtly train,
To seek it in the haunts of busy life,
Were, of the desert’s sand, to form a chain,
Or raise the plant of PEACE from seeds of Strife.
How many a VIRTUE, bloom’d in FORTUNE’s shade,
Low-drooping withers in the courtly ray,
And mid the glare of GRANDEUR’s vain parade,
Like some faint sick-bed vision fades away;
And haply leaves distractive FEAR behind,
Leaning on pallid LANGUOR, to sustain
The conflicts of a lacerated mind
Rack’d by a thousand pangs of speechless pain.
Such FATE perchance, brave MORAD! may be mine,
Ev’n whilst, afflicted man! I pity thine.
THE
PLAINT OF MORAD.
VAIN was the youthful hope that fired my soul,
When FORTUNE shower’d her gifts where’er I stray’d,
When she conferr’d the ensigns of controul,
And fertile KHORASAN my rule obey’d.
By HONOR summon’d to the field of FAME,
I fought and conquer’d in my Sovereign’s cause,
Applauding millions hail’d my rising name,
And royal favor crown’d their high applause.
But soon the dazzling blaze of FORTUNE fail’d,
And ten-fold gloom my prospects overcast:
ENVY’s base demons o’er my prince prevail’d,
Both FAME and FORTUNE sunk beneath the blast.
Far from SHERGULZAR’s
24 proud aspiring towers,
Indignant of the world I bent my way,
In some lone vale to pass my future hours,
And only own, sweet LOVE! thy gentle sway.
’Twas LOVE to MORAD gave the maid divine,
Whose paradise of charms he valued more
Than all th’ exhaustless wealth of AGRA’s
25 mine,
Than all the sparkling gems of VIZAPORE.
26
But ah! when adverse FATE her victim dooms
To feel the scorpion scourges of DESPAIR,
In vain he seeks the forest’s lonely glooms,
Th’ unwearied demon still pursues him there.
Ev’n when I fondly bade each fear farewel,
The cruel TARTAR, with his barbarous band,
Burst the weak barriers of my humble cell,
Where sleep had charm’d us with his magic wand.
Abruptly starting at the rude alarm,
I grasp’d my sword, and on th’ invaders flew;
But weak the efforts of a single arm,
Against the fury of that raging crew.
Deep wounded and assail’d on every side,
O’erwhelm’d I sunk upon the bloody ground,
While the fierce OUZBEK seiz’d my lovely bride,
Whose helpless cries in clamorous shouts were drown’d.
O sacred ALLAH! in that ill-starr’d hour,
Where slept thy thunder in the distant sky?
And where—O where! thy fiend-destroying power,
When heavenly innocence was doom’d to die?
DIE! could, alas! my anguish’d heart assume
That cruel hope, to calm its keenest woes;
Soon would I follow to the silent tomb,
Where injured VIRTUE only finds repose.
REPOSE! no, never shall my tortured soul
For one short moment taste the balm of PEACE,
Till savage tygers crouch to man’s controul,
Till raging tempests all their fury cease.
VENGEANCE! but oh! such maddening woes as mine,
Would vainly seek it from a mortal hand:
O sacred ALLAH! nought but power divine
Can hurl that vengeance which my wrongs demand.
TO
SELIMA.
TEN thousand tulips bloom in MAVRA’s vale,
Ten thousand gems in CORGA’s rocks are borne,
Ten thousand odours scent the vernal gale,
Ten thousand splendors crown the orient morn.
Ten thousand beauties eagerly conspire
To blend, celestial! in the Maid I love;
Ten thousand zephyrs fan the fond desire,
And waft her fancied form where’er I rove.
Ten thousand hour-long moments gloom away
In sad anxiety the wakeful night:
Ten thousand rising fears distract the day,
While for her safety all my hopes unite.
As many dark-brow’d guilty terrors scowl
Around the wretch who tore me from her charms,
As many seraphs shield her spotless soul,
Till time restore her to my longing arms.
But vain are blessings—maledictions vain;
DEATH guards yon dire inexorable gate.
HEAVEN guards the just:—shall ACHMED then complaint
Ten thousand armies cannot vanquish FATE.
ACHMED’s DREAM.
‘WHEN VIOLENCE deforms a SULTAN’s sway,
As faithless VIZIERS
27 misdirect his will;
A MOSLEM’s duty is not to obey,
For ’tis no DUTY to oppress and kill.
‘I am A MAN—HUMANITY is mine!
And what I claim from others—they from me:
To keep the precepts of thy LAW divine,
O GOD MOST MERCIFUL! I owe to thee.
‘Oft for my country have I fought and bled:
To shield my SOVEREIGN’s life would risk my own:
Yet more than his resentment—CRIME I dread.
INJUSTICE never long sustain’d a throne.
‘Should I (more liegeful deem’d) with hasty hand,
E’er to thy HATRED sacrifice thy FAME;
Not rank, nor riches;—favor, nor command,
Could from my bosom banish GRIEF or SHAME.
‘The holy SHEIKH HEIDER
28 was wont to say:
Those who in secret smite the man they hate,
Will, thro’ the course of each succeeding day,
Dread, from a Hand unseen, the stroke of FATE.”
Such were the daring movements of his soul,
And such th’ uncourtly words that ACHMED spoke:
Tho’ born where tyrant power ne’er felt controul,
He spurn’d the fetters and disdain’d the yoke:
Dared when SHAH SEFFI urged him to deceit,
And deeds of deadly guilt his heart abhorr’d:
Dared FAITH and HONOR’s dictates to repeat,
Nor fear’d the vengeance ev’n of PERSIA’s lord.
HONOR prevail’d, and CONSCIENCE gave applause:
Yet such the baseness of a traitor’s blood,
Ev’n HE for whom I pleaded MERCY’s cause,
For whom the royal mandate I withstood:
Ev’n HE with arts of demon-darkness strove
To blast my rising FORTUNE and my FAME;
Obtain’d the dire decree that bade me rove,
A naked vagabond without a name.
Plant thou A TREE, it will not fail to yield
A friendly shelter, or delicious fruit;
But plant ungrateful MAN in FORTUNE’s field,
The miscreant shall uptear thee by the root.
Those flatt’ring hopes that warm’d my ardent breast
At once o’er-shadow’d by a cloud of CARE,
And the deep conflicts of a mind distrest,
Urged me to some mad action of DESPAIR.
As all unshelter’d from the nightly dew,
Fearless I laid me on the desert sand,
‘The third bright morn,’ I cried ‘a deed shall view,
That JUSTICE claims from injur’d ACHMED’s hand.’
‘Back will I turn o’er interdicted ground,
And openly avenge the wrongs I feel;
But—should I fail, this Shemshere yet can wound,
My heart will leap to meet the friendly steel!
‘For—ah! what charm of life can ACHMED know,
What food, what solace will these wilds afford?
Bereft of all I valued here below,
Save conscious Honor, courage, and my sword.’
At length the guardian SPIRIT of REPOSE
Breathed o’er each wearied sense his opiate power,
And bade OBLIVION spread o’er all my woes,
Her magic mantle thro’ the midnight hour.
When clad in glimmering light, a form divine,
A form like her’s who taught my soul to love,
Smiled heavenly PEACE, and with a look benign
Spoke, as she pointed to the stars above.
‘Has FAITH’s pure volume then permission given
To thee, frail man! the reptile of a day,
To murmur at the wise decree of heaven,
Or yield thy soul to DESPERATION’s sway?
‘Taught thee—REVENGE and all her fury train
Inspire the bosoms of the wise and good?
Told thee—yon skies where happy spirits reign,
Were form’d for those who rashly shed their blood?
‘The VICE in others thy own words condemn,
Can never as a VIRTUE warm thy breast?
The crime that would affix itself to them,
Thou in thyself more strongly shouldst detest.
‘O’er this wild desert, ACHMED—point thy way,
Till thy tired feet a resting-place shall find;
Heaven thro’ deep forests can direct its ray,
And yield thee more than all thou leav’st behind.
‘Tho’ dark the page of unaccomplish’d FATE,
Submit, and bless thy GOD—all else is vain.
Know this:—the present, past, and future state,
Are links that form one great eternal chain!’
Here awfully she ceased!—Could man reply?
A more than mortal tremor shook my frame:
And as I startling waked, the eastern sky
Caught from the rising sun
29 auspicious flame.
So, gracious ALLAH! may thy purer LIGHT,
(SUN of the intellectual world,) arise,
Dispel the shades of mental—moral NIGHT,
Illume my heart—accept its sacrifice!
Its faith—its humble hopes, henceforth resign’d,
Shall rest on thee alone, GREAT GUARDIAN of mankind!
ACHMED’s RESOLVE.
SHALL I, because a TYRANT’s will
Condemns my life to woe;
The purport of his wish fulfil,
And fall his VICTIM?—No!
No, I’ll ne’er sink beneath the stroke
Thus aim’d against my joy:
’Tis mine the sentence to revoke,
When TREACHERY would destroy.
And now, escaped from tyrant rage,
In SOLITUDE I rest:
Thy love, O NATURE! shall assuage
The tumults of the breast.
Unstain’d with falshood—free from crime,
And arm’d with strength of mind;
My Heart’s a FORTRESS—POWER and TIME
Impregnable shall find.
Assault ye FIENDS of earth and hell,
Your legions—all combine:
’Gainst JUSTICE, FREEDOM, HEAVEN, rebel:
The victory shall be mine.
It is decreed—No mortal might
The sentence can withstand;
Where HONOR, FAITH, and TRUTH unite,
Against the Oppressor’s hand.
Adversity, and Bonds, or DEATH,
Dread Power! shall not prevail;
Tho’ HE arrest the fleeting breath
And spread the dusty veil.
These in the dark and silent tomb
Shall ne’er dejected lie;
But spurning the inglorious doom,
Shall rising soar on high:
Look down on tyrant rage below;
On earth’s contracted clod:
And bid the tear of PITY flow,
For those estrang’d from GOD.
FORGIVE,
AND TIME SHALL TEACH
THEE TO FORGET.
SAY! will Commiseration meet the man
Whose dark soul brooding o’er the nest of wrongs,
Hatches REVENGE, and meditates the plan
Of Horror, that to demon rage belongs?
’Tis great—’tis more—’tis heavenly to forgive
The heart that hates thee, or the hand that wounds;
But, near the Miscreant arm’d with power, to live,
Were to transgress, O CHARITY! thy bounds.
He who has injur’d thee—EXPERIENCE tells,
Will view thee after with a serpent’s eye;
SUSPICION from his breast each hope repels,
That memory of wrongs can ever die.
Amid discordant Thought’s perpetual jars
The fiends of MALICE all his fancies fill,
Watching some evil aspect of the stars,
Like fell DISEASE to work their baleful will.
ACHMED has felt RESENTMENT’s fury power,
(Impetuous despot of the youthful breast,)
Her writhing victim many an anguish’d hour,
Torn like the leveret in the vulture’s nest.
But now, by more than man’s behest, I’ll fly,
And seek forgetfulness of distant foes:
On HOPE’s soft bosom bid FORGIVENESS lie,
Sweeter than dew-drops on the unfolding rose.
She tells me, PENITENCE at length may find
Admission to the dark crime-tainted soul,
That some REMORSE may reach a VIZIER’s mind,
And ev’n a SEFFI’s pride-swoln heart controul.
AMBITION—AVARICE—haply will remain
Relentless, sordid, to life’s parting groan.
How few, like great KAI KOSRO
30 can disdain,
The charms of Victory, Riches, and a Throne.
Triumphant o’er himself, as o’er his foes,
He thank’d the GOD of goodness and retired,
Lamented the long train of human woes,
And led the life that PIETY inspired.
The GOLD long treasured in abundant store,
Flow’d from the fountain of his liberal hand,
In equal portions to the rich and poor,
Thro’ the wide circuit of the Persian land.
His heart at peace with all—the sage recluse
Found in SIMPLICITY and NATURE’s reign,
Joys sweeter far than Asciar’s
31 honied juice,
Than ABDAL JELLEIL’s
32 pure poetic strain.
The weak, the timid, rarely will forgive:
’Tis safer to offend the bold and strong.
The BRAVE MAN cannot let his hatred live;
The COWARD nurtures wrath his whole life long.
He who would reason FOLLY from the fool,
Strikes at an iron idol with his sword;
Where IMBECILITY attempts to rule,
The GOD OF MERCY never is adored.
To cherish HATE with adverse FORTUNE’s food,
Were to pay tribute to the fiend of STRIFE.
Detested ever by the wise and good
Heaven-seeking pilgrims through the ills of life.
Ah! who would deem, to hear the world of man
Boasting its guidance by a law divine,
That thus reversing FAITH and REASON’s plan,
TRUTH, GENIUS, VIRTUE, should in grief decline?
While round the lofty seat of POWER and PRIDE
A thousand guardian fiends of VICE appear;
Their outspread wings the face of NATURE hide,
Their yells for ever din the ROYAL ear.
In vain would INNOCENCE approach the throne
Of Flattery’s JEMSHID,
33 with her plaint of wrongs;
In vain AFFLICTION with a nation’s groan,
Claim what to JUSTICE and to LIFE belongs!
For thee, alas! lorn ACHMED, FATE design’d
No common trials, and no callous heart:
May then th’ ETERNAL LORD of all mankind
Grant thee to act a MOSLEM’s pious part!
Whilst envying Ignorance, Spleen, and Fraud, abound,
As TIME and FORTUNE tell the tale of truth;
May some safe solitary spot be found,
Where tranquil age may joy in mental youth.
Pitying the votaries of worldly love,
Who pant for SPOILS, DOMINION, or RENOWN,
Let me o’er those wild hills with FREEDOM rove,
Heedless of TREACHERY’s smile or SULTAN’s frown.
If rocks, and shoals, and quicksands, skirt the shore,
The sailor boldly dares the unfathom’d main,
Spreads there the sail, there labouring sweeps the oar,
A lonelier but less dangerous course to gain.
The world’s united less thro’ LOVE than FEAR.
I have been social, LOVE! thro’ thee alone;
And tho’ secluded mid these deserts drear
Shall social love the state of man bemoan.
Far from my soul, O GOD! whate’er my fate,
Be ISMAEL SOPHY’s
40 rage, or ROSTAM’s deadly hate.
ROSTAM BEG, the SON of MAKSOUD,
TO THE
TYRANT BAYSANGOR.
PERISH the name of ROSTAM from the earth,
Perish the memory of that hateful day
Whose morn ill-omen’d frown’d upon his birth,
And on his soul dark serpent furies prey!
If he permit one moment of repose
To lull the purpose of that soul to rest,
’Till VENGEANCE midst a storm of keenest woes
Shall sheath this dagger in BAYSANGOR’s breast.
Sad AZARBIJIAN
34 mourns beneath thy sway,
Sighs swell each blast—her torrents flow with tears,
Dread FAMINE through each valley wings his way,
And HORROR in his dragon form appears.
Cruel Usurper! soon shalt thou deplore
Thy short-lived triumph o’er my mangled frame:
Tho’ thy barbarians welter’d in my gore,
His power that gave, restrained life’s fleeting flame.
The AZURE GENI
35 raised my drooping head,
Then first he felt soft pity guide his hand.
‘I come not now to claim thy life,” he said,
But lead thee to REVENGE by Heaven’s command.
‘Go, then, and riot in his base-born blood,
That leaves no vile successor of his line:
Yon hungry vultures claim their fated food,
My shafts unerring and my bow are thine!
Sure ’twas no phantom spoke—my eager ear
Devour’d each sound, my heart obeys the call:
I pant with ardour in the blest career,
O sacred AUTOSH!
36 speed the tyrant’s fall.
Then grant, Oh! grant me, for the pangs I’ve known,
To joy with IBBA
37 o’er his gloomy soul!
Mock with delight each agonizing groan,
’Till KAPH’s
38 black caverns echo with his howl!
Recounting all the wrongs his country bore;
My ghastly wounds fresh opening on his view;
Let DEMROSH NER’s
39 dread voice in thunders roar,
‘The curse of ROSTAM shall thy soul pursue!’
DANGERS.
THE interminable DESERT spreads around
Its cheerless waste, all comfort flies afar:
NIGHT spreads with giant pace her glooms profound,
Nor yields the guidance of one glimmering star.
Sad sinks the heart of SORROW with dismay;
The yell of wandering demons wounds the ear;
A thousand dangers cross the trackless way,
And fancied forms at every step appear.
Forms of stupendous frame and ghastly hue
Seem gliding thro’ some deep o’ershadowing wood,
Burst in dim legions on the uncertain view,
While in hoarse torrents rolls the foaming flood.
But ah! no hoarsely-foaming flood is there,
To yield refreshment in this dreary waste,
To the poor wanderer,—let him then prepare
To meet a danger that may prove his last.
’Twas sure some gust impetuous swept along,
And raising in its rage the sandy cloud,
41
Form’d to the fearful eye that spectred throng,
And like th’ imagined torrent roar’d aloud.
’Tis past!—and Heaven all-merciful ordain’d
That ACHMED should not meet its falling force:
Else had this poor exhausted frame remain’d
An unknown victim buried in its course.
Then, ’mid succeeding dangers, wilt thou feel
One deadly terror dart across thy soul:
Say, canst thou doubt that POWER will there prevail,
Whose energy pervades the mighty whole?
What’s nature’s tumult,—man’s imagined woe,
Or the wild workings of distorted will;
Whilst PROVIDENCE in wisdom rules below,
And all above, his high behests fulfil?
CONSOLATION.
’THO’ midnight shades involve the world in gloom,
And wearied NATURE sink to soft repose;
Yet shall the spectre, starting from the tomb,
Deluge th’ OPPRESSOR’s soul with torturing woes.
Woes keener far and clad in murkier hue,
Than those, sad ACHMED, that disturb thy rest:
Thy pangs are faint, thine agitations few,
Compared with those that haunt the guilty breast.
Then ACHMED rest secure, on Heaven depend,
The Power that formed the SUN is Virtue’s Friend.
TO
SELIMA.
THE blast of DEATH howls o’er the CASPIAN wave;
42
Deep peals of thunder shake the vault of night:
Demons of DISCORD burst th’ infernal cave,
And join the yell of HORROR and AFFRIGHT.
Impetuously along the dark profound,
Contending meteors fly from sphere to sphere;
Yet while their lightnings fire the heavens around,
My steady soul disdains each mortal fear.
Dear Maid! thy faithful bosom well I know,
Heaves for thine ACHMED many a tender sigh;
Breathes oft the fervent prayer, the sacred vow2
TO THE MOST MERCIFUL, who reigns on high.
And sure, who formed thee thus divinely fair,
Who bade thy heart with purest passion glow,
Will smile to peace, the Demons of Despair,
Or hurl them flaming to the deeps below.
Reverse each power of NATURE by his nod,
Ere, SELIMA, one pang shall wound thy breast!
Bright beam of BEAUTY—loveliest work of GOD,
He formed thee only to behold thee blest!
TO
SELIMA.
FAR from my SELIMA, my soul’s delight!
How cheerless gleams the radiant orb of day!
How gloom the tedious hours of silent night,
As life’s dull current sick’ning wastes away!
For sure, in fate’s dark volume yet remains
No lingering curse, more cruelly severe
Than that which binds my captive heart in chains,
And dooms it thus to die desponding here.
Yet Heaven decrees—an EXILE thus I rove,
And I submit, for what Heaven wills is best;
Supported by that faith, and ACHMED’s love,
Let RESIGNATION calm thy troubled breast.
Know, from each grief, each anguish we endure,
From each privation of repose or joy,
Returning pleasures will arise more pure,
From all the lifeless dross and dull alloy.
As the sweet music of the vernal grove
Succeeds the horrors of the wintry storm:
As the fond turtle views his faithful dove,
Succeed the ravenous vulture’s fearful form:
So shall the hour that brings me to the arms
Of thee, sweet MAID! atone for years of pain.
Ah! while that kindling hope my bosom warms,
The flood of life swells rapturous every vein.
O what an OCEAN of unbounded bliss
Around me then its circling tide shall roll!
Thou PEARL of BEAUTY! mid that deep abyss,
Shalt reign the sovereign treasure of my soul!
BLESSINGS.
WHEN will my wand’rings end, O gracious Heaven?
When shall my anguish’d heart sweet solace find?
Am I condemn’d thus ceaseless to be driven:
Like some dark low’ring cloud before the wind,
The sport of tempests; veiling now the moon;
Now hurl’d impetuous ’gainst the mountain’s steep;
And now, half-frozen in the wintry noon,
Doom’d o’er the rugged precipice to weep?
Who can descry the mazy paths of fate,
That lead poor mortals to their final home?
As well the mariner might calculate
O’er what rude rock the distant wave should foam.
Eternal source of life and boundless love!
On thee alone shall all my hopes depend:
Hence o’er the desert will I fearless rove,
Tho’ tygers prowl and fervid suns descend.
From the parch’d plain tho’ scantly herbage spring;
Tho’ far, far hence, refreshing streamlets flow;
Tho’ every day fatigue and dangers bring;
And every night-breeze seem the sigh of woe;
That breeze more welcome now salutes mine ear,
Than erst th’ insidious pest of flattery’s breath.
Not so the midnight warnings, tyrants hear,
Deep, hollow, dismal, as the groan of DEATH!
And know, ye slavish minions of the great!
Ev’n here are blessings I would not resign,
The milk-white bread of YEZDECAST to eat,
With grapes of CASBIN, or SHIRAZIAN wine.
43
Tho’, lovely maids of YEZED, famed in song
For brightest beauty, your warm wishes crown;
To me, all lonely in these wilds, belong
What far exceed your luxury’s renown.
Freedom is mine; and, tho’ thus rudely driven,
Blest resignation to the will of Heaven!
EMANCIPATION.
CEASE, ACHMED! cease, to goad thy harrass’d mind,
With cares, with sorrows, or with treacheries past;
Swell with thy sighs no more th’ autumnal wind,
That hastes to mingle with the wintry blast.
Think’st thou while mountain echoes mock thy woe,
That savage beasts, wild-startling at the sound,
Will sympathetic, kind sensations know,
Or pitying vultures sooth thy bosom’s wound?
Deem’st thou thy murmurings will plead with fate,
Reverse one instance of its stern decree,
Of future ills remove the destined date,
Or set thy soul from present evils free?
Could murmurings, could repinings ease one grief,
Restore one comfort from the bosom torn;
Then might thy heavy heart expect relief
From a dread glooming o’er its lot forlorn.
No!—Different far the tendency of these,
They sap the deep foundations of the mind,
Augment each sorrow into dark disease;
While DEATH stalks dreary in their train behind.
Fleet as the antelope for safety flies,
When he beholds the dread hyæna near,
Swift as the whirlwind sweeps along the skies,
Fly from those demons that assail thee here.
Start from their hideous features with dismay:
Thy more than life—thy comforts they destroy;
While thou sad-sighing all the tedious day,
Feed’st on the scorpion-poison of thy joy.
JOY! whence that empty word’s unmeaning sound?
Delusive phantom of the young and gay;
Once fondly sought, but ah! no sooner found,
Than torn by cruel destiny away.
Yet tho’ condemn’d to quit my native shore,
And range these lonely wilds to man unknown;
Why should I hourly thus my lot deplore,
And to the midnight howl unite my moan?
While in the HARAM of DELIGHT I lay,
Bound in soft fetters of luxurious ease;
Pass’d like the dancer’s step each smiling day,
’Till PLEASURE almost lost the power to please.
The simple charms of NATURE all disdain’d,
Amidst the meretricious blaze of ART;
Tumultuous passions in my bosom reign’d,
And false allurements triumph’d o’er my heart.
Tho’ slaves obsequious flew at my command,
Myself an abject slave more truly grown,
Moved but by courtly favor’s magic wand,
And almost fear’d an earthly tyrant’s frown.
His angry mandate now has set me free,
Wide o’er the world to range beyond controul;
With banishment he gave me liberty,
And broke the fetters that enchain’d my soul.
TO
SELIMA.
THO’ famishing, all lonely, and forlorn,
Thro’ trackless wilds, o’er burning sands I rove,
Far from BLEST ARDEBEIL
45 condemn’d to mourn
Malignant FORTUNE and divided LOVE.
Tho’ tempests howl o’er my devoted head,
And furious whirlwinds raise the sandy cloud;
Tho’ panthers prowl around with savage tread,
Or woods and cavern’d rocks my sufferings shrowd.
One thought of thee, O SELIMA! can cheer
The lonely forest, cheer the midnight gloom;
Of savage monsters dissipate the fear,
And all the horrors of my unknown doom.
When mighty AZRAEL
44 bids my tongue forego
Its wonted powers, forbids each pulse to move;
Forbids with these my sorrowing tears to flow:
Ev’n then, to thee my last sad sigh shall rove.
Shall rove?—shall fly!—out-wing the lightning’s speed:
O SELIMA! receive the pilgrim guest.
My heart, dear Maid! thro’ life must ever bleed,
Till, mingling soul with soul, supremely blest,
Thy long-lost ACHMED hail thee for his own.
But ah! dark FATE conceals the destined hour,
When each sweet draught of bliss shall well atone
For ages tortured by its adverse power.
What, tho’ on earth that hour may ne’er be given,
To swell life’s shadowy span with perfect joy,
Yet HOPE unwearied wings her flight to Heaven,
Where purest pleasures reign without annoy.
For thee alone, O SELIMA! for thee,
I drag with painful step life’s lingering chain;
Else soon this friendly sword should set me free
From toil, anxiety, from grief, and pain.
This faithful sword, true emblem of my state,
Its lustre lost, its sheltering scabbard gone,
Now seems in sympathy to mourn my fate,
As my soul sickens with the waning moon.
Yet what, alas! are all the transient smiles
Of prosperous FORTUNE, in this world of woe,
But some dire DEMON’s unsuspected wiles,
To chain immortal beings here below?
To chain them ’midst uncertainty and strife,
To magic powers of sense an easy prey:
To check the spirit struggling into life,
And dim the dawnings of celestial day.
Great GOD of MERCY! source of each pure joy
That visits earth, or dwells in Heaven above,
Whose power that gave existence can destroy,
O take my soul, to live where life is love!
RETROSPECT.
’TWAS ACHMED’s prayer, ere Fate should seal his doom,
A friend, a parent’s last kind words to hear,
Where pilgrims seek SHEIKH HEIDER’s hallow’d tomb,
Where SEFI-EDDIN
28 closed his blest career.
That friend alas! that parent is no more,
And ARDEBEIL, my birth-place, far away,
Far the wild scenery of the CASPIAN shore,
45
Or GHILAN’s vales, where oft I wont to stray,
To stray, from morn’s bright dawn, till blushful eve
Conceal’d her modest charms in twilight’s veil,
Where no false shews of wealth, of power deceive,
Where ART ne’er strove o’er NATURE to prevail.
For NATURE there, with ever liberal hand,
The fig-tree—and the empurpled vine bestows;
There—almonds, olives, citrons clustering stand,
And cool, thro’ mulberry groves the rivulet flows.
The peach, the nectarine, and the fruitful palm,
Fence the ripe wheat field, and the mrilet ground:
A thousand odorous herbs the breeze embalm,
And birds wild warbling chear the woodlands round.
Shadowing the COTTAGE door, pomegranates spread
Their branches, laden with delicious fruits;
And when the roseate blooms of SPRING are fled,
Still humbler flow’rets smile around their roots.
There (in contentment rich) has ACHMED seen
Young INNOCENCE with holy FAITH combined,
And every VIRTUE dwell with AGE serene,
And gentlest LOVE inspire the manly mind.
Memory’s blest hours! ah! when shall I renew
Your sweet delights? When ARA’s stream behold;
Or on romantic KOURA’s margin view,
Thro’ aged woods his rapid waters roll’d?
Roll’d on, united with his kindred flood,
Impetuous as the LESGUIES
46 scour the plain,
Fierce as the OUSBEK squadrons prowl for blood,
Swift as the south wind sweeps th’ ARABIAN main.
47
Streams famed in many a song of ancient days,
And sadly famed, alas! in later years,
When VICTORY sung a fierce invader’s praise,
Who triumph’d, impious! in a nation’s tears.
Sprites of the brave, defenders of those fields
Torn by barbarians from your peaceful hands;
In vain each warrior chief assistance yields,
More fierce, more numerous rush the savage bands.
Yet there your bones have found a tranquil grave,
Hallowing their native shades—whilst driv’n afar,
No sociate of the kind, the just, the brave,
My course is mark’d by a malignant star.
Beneath yon sullen cloud, portentous hangs
The pale-orb’d PLANET of my natal hour,
Horrid to me as the relentless fangs
Of hungry lions, eager to devour.
Wide o’er the arid plain, night’s murky shades
Fast gathering, bid me prize this rugged mound
Of difficult access; here nought invades
My place of rest, with wild shrubs mantled round.
Not ev’n, ill-omen’d STAR! thy hateful beam,
Thro’ the dark-foliaged fence, can reach me here;
Nor shall thy presence drive my nightly DREAM
From AZARBIJIAN’s
34 bowers—to caverns drear,
Where squats the NIGHT-HAG, ’midst her bloated brood,
List’ning the death-bird’s scream; or fever’d moan
Of some gorged WOLF, distent with gazal’s blood,
Sleeping in mock pomp on HULAGO’s
48 throne.
No! sportive FANCY haply shall restore
The scenes, the loved friends, the delights of youth,
Illusions fair, whose flight can I deplore
When morn awakes to NATURE and to TRUTH?
Inhospitable DESERTS—wide as waste,
May raise in rude array their rocks, their hills;
Patient tho’ wearied, onward will I haste,
And chaunt with joy my flight from other ills.
THE
RESTING PLACE.
DEAD lay the vanquished LION at my feet,
And I, the stern possessor of his den,
Enter with gratitude the wild retreat,
Now more congenial than th’ abodes of men.
Tho’ haply here, to shun the blaze of day,
Dark birds of omen, wing their frequent flight,
Croak deep-toned horror o’er their mangled prey,
While hissing snakes discordantly unite.
Yet here, far happier—far more tranquil, here,
On the bare rock, I’ll lay my pensive head,
Than thou, base author of my lot severe,
Wilt ever sleep on Luxury’s silken bed.
No scorpion CONSCIENCE hourly stings my soul!
ENVY, self-torturing fiend, ne’er haunts this cave;
Here AVARICE, wolf insatiate, will not prowl,
Nor black DESPONDENCE mark me for her slave.
One only cause of anguish breaks my rest,
Or bids the sadly-silent tear to flow.
Oh! SELIMA!—but, let me think thee blest
With saints above, for bliss ne’er dwells below.
And yet, with thee, ere FORTUNE’s angry frown
Blasted each joy, and tore me from thy charms,
Heedless of wealth, of honors, or renown,
All—all I dreamt of Heaven was in thine arms!
Short dream, alas!—yet, does the miscreant live,
Whose perjured breath impell’d AFFLICTION’s dart?
But why revenge?—No stroke this arm might give,
Could add new HELL to that which fires his heart.
THE VOW.
AMID your solitudes, ye FORESTS wild,
Beneath the umbrage of your spreading boughs,
Receive and shelter lorn AFFLICTION’s child:
O sooth his sorrows, and attest his vows!
If e’er blind passion prompt his steps to stray:
If e’er ambition’s fire inflame his mind:
If schemes of golden joy delude away,
Or love of base— ungrateful human kind,
Cause him to quit this calm tho’ rude retreat,
For yon vain WORLD of treachery and strife;
May every power that moves his pulse to beat,
Resign to pale disease his lingering life,
Until long-gathering storms of tyrant hate,
Hurl his torn limbs where death’s dire caverns gloom:
Beyond his last faint gasp, the rage of fate
Deny him rest within the darkling tomb.
There may the hags of discord scream affright,
There demons rend his cold corse from the ground,
And shroud his soul in ever-during night,
Like EBLIS
49 plunged in DOZAUK’s
49a gulph profound.
If from these mountain solitudes he rove,
Seeking the haunts of man with recreant eye;
Till the MOST MERCIFUL, that reigns above,
Who led him hither, grant him here to die.
Eternal SOURCE of all in earth or heaven,
From angel energy to reptile rest!
May health, may peace, to ACHMED here be given,
With faith in thee, no impious doubts infest.
If any tissue of the WORLD remain
Inwoven with the fibres of his heart;
Let it not prove the cause of grief or pain,
Holding the barbed fangs of treachery’s dart.
All that the HAKEEM,
50 AMEER,
50a HADGY,
50 boasts
Of knowlege, power, or virtue, flows from thee.
Thy PROVIDENCE his guard—can armed hosts
Enslave the MAN determined to be free?
If ACHMED’s vows, blest ALLAH! meet thy will,
A faithful firmness shall those vows fulfil.
COMPARE,
’TWILL LESSEN GRIEF.
WHENCE heaves my bosom with that swelling sigh?
Why throb the quicken’d pulses of my heart?
Why starts the trickling tear-drop from mine eye?
Ye dreams of long-lost HAPPINESS depart.
Too faithful MEMORY! wilt thou still remain,
Haunting my soul, a sadly-pleasing guest,
Transforming absent bliss to present pain!
Come sweet OBLIVION! come, and give me rest.
Why, ACHMED, thus thy destiny bemoan?
To others far more wretchedness belongs:
In their afflictive lot, forget thine own,
Think on the poor distracted ABDAL’s songs.
Think on his tales of visionary woe,
Doom’d every hour some varying dread to know.
FRAGMENT
OF THE
DEVANÉ,
51 ABDAL HASSAN.
OWHEREFORE was I born? or on the day
That gave these eyes the light—these nostrils breath,
Why did not pangs of infant misery lay
The little sufferer in the bed of DEATH?
Born but to pine, I live but to lament,
Long nights of terror following days of pain;
Ev’n now the STARS start from the firmament!
And shower around me in a burning rain!
The scorpion fiend of ANGUISH, robed in snakes,
Leads on his GOULES,
52 a grim and grizly band:
All nature groans—wide rends the opening earth,
And on the trembling precipice I stand!
Dark vapors rise! the SUN expires in gloom:
A hollow blast along the valley howls;
Deep thunders roar; while from HELL’s lab’ring womb,
Burst the wild wailings of despondent souls.
Midst a sulphureous gleam of livid light,
Half-clouded met mine eye a giant form:
Then, wrapt in shades of more than tenfold night,
These fearful words he pour’d amidst the storm.
‘While rage the horrors of yon dreadful scene,
Where fiends unnumber’d madd’ning wing their way,
Say, canst thou sit all careless and serene,
A pleased spectator of th’infernal fray?
‘Or wooe with rapture to thine eager arms,
The fury forms obscene that round thee roar:
In each dire visage view immortal charms,
And bid angelic beauties bloom no more?
‘Yet thus, the mind, by sensual sorcery caught,
Quaffs the black venom of profoundest hell;
And mid fierce whirlwinds of distemper’d thought,
Hears with wild joy the fiends infuriate yell:
‘The fiends of passion, of untamed desire,
AMBITION, AVARICE, ENVY, HATRED, STRIFE:
That roll a torrent of consuming fire,
O’er every fleeting bliss of human life.
‘Till thou the love of all on earth forego,
And with disgust even life itself resign:
Such torturing tempests shall thy bosom know,
FATE form’d the dire decree, the lot is thine.’
Here ceased the KENGOSH:
53 thro’ my trembling frame
Dismay with horror froze each vital power:
Scarce could my tongue pronounce thy sacred name,
Great GOD of MERCY! in that awful hour.
Where then—Oh! where shall I a refuge find?
Where seek that peace my soul has learnt to prize?
O blest CREATOR! snatch me from mankind,
To hail with Saints thy GLORY in the skies.
Presumptuous wish, extravagant and vain!
All gracious ALLAH! hear a humble prayer:
Instruct my heart those VIRTUES to obtain;
Thro’ which alone thy servants enter there.
SOCIAL LOVE.
MAN, as he came from his CREATOR’s hand,
With infant innocence, instinctive love,
Saw NATURE’s beauty—felt her influence bland,
As dawns the day thro’ Heaven’s blue vault above.
Wrapt in admiring joy he gazed around,
And when his fellow man first met that gaze,
Sprung forth towards him with spontaneous bound,
Hailing a second self with wild amaze!
Or haply, if quick glancing, he survey’d
The form of virgin loveliness disclose,
Beneath the covert of some breezy shade,
In all the sweetness of serene repose.
Heavens! what emotions darted thro’ his frame,
What sudden transport fix’d his wand’ring eyes;
Ere hopes or objects had received a name,
As new sensations—thoughts—affections rise.
She startling—wakes!—Will timid beauty strive
To fly—nor smiling animate her charms?
While he, to sensibility alive,
Clasps the sweet sociate with protecting arms?
From that glad hour, each joy that NATURE yields,
Doubles the influence of its first delights:
More gay the flowret, and more fresh the fields:
The morn more fair: ev’n blest the glooms of night.
A principle communicative dwells
Within the HEART of man: it leads him on
To seek SOCIETY; and he rebels,
Who scorpion-like crawls sordidly alone.
And if thus social, then, to make it blest,
Congenial minds sincerely must unite;
But where to find that true concordant rest,
Time ne’er has pointed in his ceaseless flight.
Nor in my various wand’rings have I found,
For ah! the WORLD is so far lost in ART,
The sweet simplicities of NATURE, wound
Th’ affected, false, refinements of the heart.
‘He only is thy true, thy faithful FRIEND,
Who feeds not vanity with flattery’s food;
But from each sensual, proud, and selfish end
Averts thine aim, and leads thee on to good.
‘To a degenerate world’s far-distant bourne,
Seeking that friend, in HOPE’s gay chariot ride,
Less light of heart thou wearied shalt return,
With DISAPPOINTMENT seated at thy side.
‘Confide thou then in HIM, and HIM alone,
Who form’d the fruitful earth and azure sky:
Whose PROVIDENCE, thro’ life, has led thee on,
And still regards thee with benignant eye.
‘Humbly to HIM, thy heart, thy soul, resign:
Beyond thy faith, his streams of mercy flow:
Let TRUTH, BENEVOLENCE, GOOD DEEDS be thine,
EDEN shall end thy pilgrimage below.’
Inspired with love and charity to man,
Such were the precepts blest SHEIKH HEIDER gave;
But worldly policy’s contracted span
Has laid those precepts in the martyr’s grave.
Th’ Arabian adage says, ‘to live secure,
Climb thou to Heaven, or cavern’d depths descend;
For on earth’s surface nought is safe or sure,
The wise man in the MIRROR seeks his friend.’
To HEAVEN my VOWS are sped, by whose command
These far-secluded trackless woods I sought:
Temptations to revisit PERSIA’s land,
Shall ne’er, prevailing, turn those vows to nought.
The will divine ’tis not for me to know,
Beyond the point that teaches to obey;
Not so the tyrant powers that rule below,
In boastful pride of heaven-appointed sway.
All hail, ye mountain solitudes! from you
And from your untamed inmates will I claim
Those calm retreats that nature’s children knew,
Ere EDUCATION taught one artful aim.
Tho’ here recluse, O GOD! inspire my mind
With love of THEE, of NATURE, and MANKIND.
SERENITY.
THE gliding brook’s soft murmurs lull to rest,
Scarce breaking, silent EVE! thy potent charm:
Amid these shades, as with the heavenly blest,
PEACE reigns superior to each vain alarm,
For vain I deem the TYGER’s hungry rage;
In vain the Scorpion bears his deadly sting;
In vain would man his lawless warfare wage;
Where PROVIDENCE extends the guardian wing.
Beneath that shelter, ACHMED, rove serene,
Or rest secure, for Heaven is virtue’s friend.
No more shall FORTUNE’s ever-changeful scene,
’Twixt thee and PARADISE its veil extend.
Tho’ earth-born vapours float before thy sight,
Tho’ dim that sight while thou art wrapp’d in clay,
Yet gloom-clad DEATH shall raise thy soul to light,
As darkness leads but to the morning ray.
’Till that determined hour, may FAITH divine
Strengthen a grateful heart, and health and peace be thine.
TO THE
POPPY.
MID the vast regions of etherial space,
While NIGHT in starry vesture sits sublime,
NATURE bestows on her frail flowery race,
A balm that sooths the wearied steps of TIME!
SHIRABEH, ’tis thine own, till opening day
Bid thee resign the dew that melts my griefs away.
For oft as morn in crimson beams array’d,
Wide o’er the desert pours his flood of light,
The gentle PERIES of the dusk, dismay’d,
Spread their transparent wings to eager flight.
No more, with visionary forms I rove
Thro’ the gay bowers of youth, of joy, and love.
No more, bright HOURIES of celestial mien,
With songs of PARADISE delight mine ear!
No more, angelic forms with smiles serene,
In sweet benignity of converse cheer.
At morn’s approach, how heartless I resign
The few, the transient blessings that are mine.
False fleeting bliss! and yet in ACHMED’s scale,
Such airy joys o’erbalance courtly gold,
Whose artful wreaths no fragrancy exhale,
Whose flocks are only kids of Satan’s fold:
To gain possession racks the anxious mind,
And hornet conscience leaves a sting behind.
But thou, heaven-gifted harbinger of joy!
The soft enchanter of my slumbering hours,
Thou who canst all the active soul employ,
And wake to extacy her latent powers:
Still may thy mystic wand of force divine,
Point to those fleeting forms, and make the phantoms mine.
Ah! why will SLEEP, with all his sportive train,
Far from my resting place so rudely fly,
Unless I more than human aid obtain,
To bind his pinions whilst I prostrate lie?
Parent of AFION!
54 by thy sacred spell,
I joy with ANGELS, or I vanquish HELL.
SELF-DEFENCE.
WITH man I war not:—if he war on me,
Fleet as the wild-goat o’er the crags I’ll fly,
Tho’ he o’ertake, enslaved I will not be,
FREEDOM is mine, in it’s defence I’ll die.
To fight for HONOR, or contend for FAME,
To hunt the shadow of a passing cloud,
To add new epithets to FOLLY’s name,
By WISDOM’s voice have equal praise allow’d.
My LIFE or LIBERTY to guard alone
Shall henceforth prompt this hand to lift the sword:
But let deep penitence to Heaven atone,
Past deeds of carnage from my soul abhorr’d.
ENVY’s envenom’d tongue may now recal
And blast those honor’s CONSCIENCE would resign:
For me, the world’s conflicting waves may fall,
Or rise.—PEACE, FREEDOM, and CONTENT are mine.
What brave, what good man, will EXULTING say:
‘I’ve aided TYRANTS to extend their sway?’
MID-DAY.
THE fervid blaze of NOON now scorches wide
The scanty herbage of the desert plain;
The streams that murmur’d from the mountain’s side,
Absorb’d by thirsty sands, are lost again.
The timid DEER their woody coverts leave,
Pant in the glow, with oft-averted eye,
False hopes awhile their wonted search deceive,
They seek the STREAM, but find the CHANNEL dry.
Nor the dry channel do they find alone,
To mock the misery of their parched way:
Roused by their drooping melancholy moan,
The crouching TYGER marks them for his prey.
Fly swift, ye hapless wanderers, swiftly fly,
As the wing’d arrow from the TARTAR’s bow;
Swift as the lightning flashes, or ye die,
The mangled victims of a cruel foe.
Ev’n thus, O ACHMED! in the Persian land,
Where streams of JUSTICE flow’d from heavenly springs,
Thro’ royal channels; now the thirsty sand
Of AVARICE drinks, while RAPINE waves her wings.
There, tyger-like, lo! power-perverted lies,
Low-crouching, arm’d with fury and deceit,
SUSPICION guides his ever-watchful eyes,
And DANGER lurks around his thorny seat.
Truth, Honor, Virtue! swift with ACHMED fly,
Swift as the light’ning flashes, or ye die.
FAR o’er the plains the wandering shepherd strays,
Where verdure rises, rests his little flock;
In simple pleasures pass his guileless days,
Pure as the water from the mountain rock.
Or, haply, when the summer sun-beam pours,
Intensely o’er th’ unshaded wide extent,
He leads instinctive where the grove embowers,
And rears beside the brook his sheltering tent.
Or up the rugged mountain’s sunless side
Winds slowly, seeking scantier herbage there;
Yet free from insect swarms that ceaseless glide
Along the stream, and fill the lowland air.
Far from this hateful pest they feed at ease,
Or lull’d to slumber by the shepherd’s song,
Beneath some high shrub-mantled bank, the breeze
Wafts cool refreshment to the fleecy throng.
Such was the life our early fathers led,
Ere empires flourish’d, or proud cities rose;
When patriarch sires (long number’d with the dead)
Held parent sway, ere men to men were foes.
Their few cares then were only to provide
Food, raiment, and a shelter from the storm;
To chase the savage beasts that lurking hide,
But ne’er incessant labour to perform.
For NATURE’s genuine wants, and comforts too,
Were all acquired by less than wearying toil,
Until vain man, with LUXURY in view,
Sought more than comforts from his native soil.
But, when subservient to his proud behest,
He taught the weak obsequious mind to bend,
AMBITION found a dwelling in his breast,
And form’d the MASTER, while he lost the FRIEND.
He who in sluggish ease would pass his hours,
First made his fellow man by fraud or force,
Beyond FREE EXERCISE employ his powers,
Yoak’d the young bull, and rein’d the generous horse.
The same base principle of SLOTH combined
The ROBBER-BAND, on weaker bands to prey;
And from that source th’ oppressors of mankind
Derived their wealth, their vices, and their sway.
O turn, my soul! from such degenerate times,
When folly, low rapacity, and pride,
Crouch to the TYRANT, and support his crimes,
To gain some worthless end that Heaven denied.
Indignant turn, and ’mid these wilds enjoy
A heartfelt peace, that man can ne’er destroy.
THE
VINDICATION.
SUPPOSE, one moment, ACHMED, thy retreat
Were to the prying WORLD OF MORTALS known,
Thy life, thy manners, and thy state complete,
Passions subdued, and prejudices flown.
The MONSTER
56 would exclaim, ‘Scorn points at thee,
Unsocial, indolent, a foe to fame,
Adverse to power, to wealth, to policy,
Resolved to live and die without a name.
‘Lost to all learning, loosed from every band
Of love, of friendship, kindred, native home;
Thine injured HONOR claims a vengeful hand,
Yet thou inglorious wilt wild forests roam.’
I’ll roam with savage beasts, in caverns hide,
Or scream with howlets thro’ the midnight hour;
Rather than dwell with LUXURY and PRIDE,
Or crouch the fawning slave of WEALTH and POWER.
A few short lines engraven on my sword,
To SULTAN favour led in FORTUNE’s morn,
Led me from humbler hopes to shine a Lord,
Gave me the ROSE, but not without a THORN.
Here NATURE reigns; MAN’s genuine wants are few,
Soon satisfied from her abundant store,
Her beauties charm where’er I turn my view,
I feel CONTENTMENT, and I ask no more.
If VENGEANCE yet my injured HONOR claim,
THAT, with my HEART, to HEAVEN I now resign:
Torn from the world, I quit its every aim,
Its motives, hopes, and hatreds, are not mine.
I’m not unsocial—all around me smiles,
And I responsive, smile on all around,
Not indolent—Activity beguiles
My passing hours, and treads this sacred ground.
Sacred to LIBERTY, life’s darling love,
For her I’ll dare whate’er man may endure,
With her thro’ forest glades delighted rove,
Where no false charms of ART the mind allure.
And while the loud acclaims of FAME, afar,
O’er fields of blood in savage discord rise,
Here will I sit, and view th’ EVENING STAR
In silent glory beam amid the skies:
Here sit, and sing the transports of a soul
Inspired, O NATURE! by thy charms sublime;
And while the seasons in succession roll,
Enjoy the sweet vicissitudes of TIME:
Delighted, view yon azure mountain-range
Extend its broken outline, wildly rude,
Soften’d by distance;—wherefore then, exchange
These scenes, where no asperities intrude;
The joyless DESERT tract to traverse o’er,
Each painful step perplex’d with rock and thorn,
Rough craggy steeps, where winds tempestuous roar,
WOLVES prowl for prey, and NATURE droops forlorn?
Such is the WORLD when distant I survey,
And such its aspect as I draw more near;
Aloof, then, ACHMED! let thy fancies play,
But, shun the dangers reason bids thee fear.
They once were thine:—escaped, thy safety prize,
Scorn the world’s maxims, and its scorn despise.
INSCRIPTION
ON
ACHMED’s SCIMETAR.
KEEN as the blasts from BULAK’s
57 desert blow;
High-temper’d as the souls of mighty kings;
Bright as the forky fires of light’ning glow,
When DEATH’s dread ANGEL rides upon their wings.
Such is this sword, O thou, whose hasty hand
Is guided only by despotic will,
Learn that from GOD was given this high command:
‘No blood UNJUSTLY shalt thou dare to spill.’
But to repel the force of lawless might,
To aid the INNOCENT, their wrongs redress,
Protect the JUST, defend thy country’s right:
For these, the BRAVE shall combat with success.
Wield then this vengeful blade.—By HEAVEN’s decree
DEATH’s SABLE ANGEL
58 shall give place to thee.
OMNIPRESENCE.
WHY was this SPIRIT, ardent still to rise,
Chain’d in a dungeon of compacted clay?
Why were those thoughts, aspiring to the skies,
In heavy fetters doom’d to pine away?
Strange—mystic union of discordant things,
Beyond the powers of REASON to descry:
Like the wild ostrich of the waste, whose wings
Tho’ strongly nerved, yet are not form’d to fly.
O sluggish clay, that bend’st thy inmate down,
Low to the parent dust that gave thee birth!
I fain would spurn thee, all thy ties disown,
And roam a pilgrim from the realms of earth.
Roam where? What unknown worlds wouldst thou explore?
Where rest in boundless space thy weary flight?
Float o’er etherial oceans without shore,
Mount to the stars—or sink in endless night?
What is thine aim? What mighty object, say,
To rise above this sublunary sphere?
Ev’n HIM, who reigns o’er all the realms of day,
Say, dost thou seek? Vain man! then seek him here.
For his Almighty WISDOM, POWER, and LOVE,
Are neither circumscribed by time, nor space,
But perfect here, as in the realms above,
Sustain the myriads of the human race.
Here shall the faithful heart with transport own,
GOD’s awful presence fills not Heaven alone.
TO THE
JASMINE.
LET the wild OLIVE rise with towering pride,
Deeply infix his strong tenacious root,
Spread his contorted limbs on every side,
And boast a copious load of bitter fruit.
What is his boast, sweet JASMINE! what to thee?
Say can it hurt the humble, to survey
The proud luxuriance of a lofty tree,
To whom thy central stem is but a spray?
No—fair diffuser of delightful balm!
Thy lowlier growth secures thee from the storm,
Gives thee to bloom all-lovely midst the calm,
That smiles complacent on thy slender form.
The fissured rock beneath the ridgy steep,
Where tangled woodbines court the western gale;
Where the close-mantling ivy loves to creep,
And the low juniper surveys the vale.
These, bashful BEAUTY, yield thee more delight
Than all the luxuries the vale bestows:
With thy humility—content unite,
And envy not the OLIVE or the ROSE.
Sweet child of purest NATURE! let me rest
Heedless of distant man beneath thy shade:
SIMPLICITY like thine, is surely blest,
No agitations thy meek state invade.
The little warbler midst thy foliage finds
A kind recess to raise her infant brood,
Shelter’d from feather’d foes—from boisterous winds,
Where MISCHIEF’s weazel-eye can ne’er intrude.
Her faithful sociate on thy light green spray,
Shall speak his tender joys in rapturous song;
With tuneful GRATITUDE thy shade repay,
And till the evening close, his strains prolong.
See the fall’n CEDAR, on that airy steep
How prone he lies, that rose so proud before,
Unheedful if the tempest rage, or sleep,
The dew-drop fall, or deep ning thunders roar:
How prone he lies! still frowns in faded state;
Frowns o’er the broken shrubs that sought his shade:
Thus fall the mighty by the hand of FATE,
That scarcely deigns thy humbler seats invade.
Blest be thy bow’ring branches—blest thy blooms,
Emblems of innocence and infant joy;
May light-wing’d zephyr waft their mild perfumes
To lovely bosoms, no rude thoughts annoy:
In virgin purity, serenely blest,
With sportive, youthful Happiness combined;
Of every tender sentiment possest,
That dwells, delicious, in the gentle mind.
So may’st thou live, and bloom in early SPRING,
So may soft pleasure crown thy SUMMER’s day;
Maturing AUTUMN wave her golden wing,
Long ere bald WINTER reign with tyrant sway.
Ah! while the circling SEASONS thus return,
Be thou serene—the boist’rous power shall mourn.
THE
INVITATION.
WHY, hapless MAN! consume thy labouring life,
In fond pursuit of phantoms, light as air?
The sport of passions, whose unceasing strife
Blends MADNESS, FOLLY, RAPTURE, and DESPAIR.
In vain does NATURE with persuasive voice,
Amidst her bounties urge thee to enjoy,
Enjoy true pleasures, gratefully rejoice:
MAN, spurning NATURE, would her gifts destroy!
Each pure emotion blasting in its rise,
Each heav’nly inmate binds in earthly chains,
While golden visions dance before his eyes,
And sensual furies revel in his veins.
O thou of different mind! the MAN of THOUGHT,
Of simple THOUGHT—of heart estrang’d from pride,
Who tired of strife, canst hold vain things at nought,
NATURE—thine admiration! TRUTH—thy guide!
Come, Pilgrim, seek these woods, these mountains wild,
And vales unknown to all the slaves of ART,
By many a dark enchantment’s charm beguiled,
That spreads a cank’ring poison through the heart.
O quit the treacherous WORLD, and taste with me,
Sweet PEACE, CONTENTMENT, HEALTH and LIBERTY!
THE
TURTLE DOVES.
HERE, ACHMED, let thy wearied frame once more
Enjoy the heavenly comforts of repose:
And may this much-lov’d solitude restore
Thy mind to calmness, long oppress’d with woes.
Unmanly RULER of the PERSIAN land,
A land of SLAVES, that abjectly obey;
This lonely region owns not thy command,
Here, ACHMED bends to no proud tyrant’s sway.
But blest with what primeval NATURE gave
To all that live—the right to rest, or roam;
For GOD ne’er form’d a tyrant, or a slave,
Nor chain’d mankind to any hateful home.
Free as the light the MAN of NATURE rose,
Gazed on her beauties, and with raptured heart
Adored the guardian of his sweet repose,
Who bade the SUN his genial powers impart.
He saw a charm diffused on all around,
His soul responsive, felt that charm her own;
His every thought with rosy chaplets crown’d,
And pure emotions blest his heart alone.
How different far the man of modern days
In vigorous health, and energy of mind;
Ev’n in maturity his strength decays,
His spirit daunted—wavering and confined.
He acts not, speaks not, as he thinks or feels,
But ruled by interest, or by custom led,
Awed by false shame or fear, his chariot wheels
Pursue the track from which lost REASON fled.
The sorceress, SUPERSTITION, waves her wand,
And blasts the face of NATURE to his view;
While USURPATION grasps with griffon hand
His scanty joys, his wealth, his freedom too.
Man taught alas! DELUSION’s voice to hear,
And lur’d from PEACE, to CRUELTY and STRIFE,
Led by AMBITION, meets the slaughtering spear,
Or lifts the sabre ’gainst his brother’s life.
Perhaps he falls:—the vulture screams delight,
Hovering impatient o’er the carnaged plain:
Perhaps—he triumphs in the field of fight,
A gory DEMON! ’midst the mangled slain.
Behold the neighbouring CITY, whose full fate
Hung on the chance of victory or defeat:
Lo! its high towers o’erturn’d—its wealth, its state,
Laid like their SOVEREIGN at the CONQUEROR’s feet.
The VIRGIN’s shriek—the WIDOW’s frantic tear,
The bitter anguish of a PARENT’s love,
Anticipating all the lot severe,
That his poor captive offspring soon must prove.
The chain that binds so cruelly their hands,
Binds them more firmly to his anguish’d soul:
Yet, see! the iron-hearted warrior stands
Exulting in the power of rude controul.
The smoaking ruin—the once lucid stream,
Whose trembling waters flow distain’d with blood;—
His dying sociate’s pangs,—awake no gleam
Of social feeling: VENGEANCE yells for food.
Nor yells in vain: Impetuous as the steed
That hears the shout of war with neighing joy:
While groans of DEATH to TERROR’s scream succeed,
Aloud the son of DISCORD cries, DESTROY!
Admit—the SULTAN whom his sword defends,
Yields him a scanty portion of the spoils;
RAPINE and MURDER still his hope extends,
With brutal revelry to crown his toils.
He lives a TYGER! If his hated name
Debase the annals of th’ historic page,
Indignant JUSTICE ’mid the sons of FAME,
Shall blast his memory—to each future age.
But hark! a gentler voice salutes mine ear,
With softly murmuring notes of joy and love;
A voice that long has breathed familiar here,
The placid spirit of the TURTLE DOVE.
Sweet birds! that nestling in the clefted stone,
Where the wild creeper forms a floating shade;
Ne’er may that discord to your lives unknown,
These sweetly-pensive solitudes invade.
Welcome—thrice welcome, then, my hallow’d fate,
And ah! farewel! thou world of cares and strife:
Wean’d from thy love, and heedless of thy hate,
HEAVEN yields me comforts, and sustains my life.
TO
SELIMA.
WHERE are you flown, ye hours of gay Delight,
When countless BEAUTIES crowding on my view,
Seem’d by some mystic concord to unite,
In forms of fair enjoyment, ever new?
When, as the nectar’d goblet pour’d around
Its smiling treasures to the sons of JOY:
The echoing roofs learnt only to resound,
‘These, these are pleasures that can never cloy.’
Then, spurning ev’ry fear of FORTUNE’s frown,
TIME’s rapid progress, or the shafts of FATE;
I fondly call’d thee, SELIMA! my own,
And deem’d my raptures of no mortal date.
‘Let holy DERVISHES,
55 of EDEN dream,
And clasp the visions of celestial bliss,
They ne’er beheld thy heav’nly beauty’s beam,
Nor from thy lips received a HOURI’s kiss.
‘O let my soul, transported as I gaze,
Proclaim thy triumph o’er the rising day;
See, light-wing’d clouds obscure his blushful blaze,
While gladden’d NATURE hails thy living ray!
‘O SELIMA! Enchantment reigns around,
Whene’er thy magic fingers touch the lyre;
But when thy voice accords its sweeter sound,
Ev’n listning SERAPHS with delight expire!’
Thus, I, exulting in each rapturous hour,
Ne’er bade my heart with grateful ardors glow,
To HIM whose goodness gave: his vengeful power
Reversed each charm, and plunged me deep in woe.
Yet, can my wounded spirit e’er repine?
Has it not known the HEART’s supremest joy?
The blest IDEA ever shall be mine,
Nor can ETERNITY that bliss destroy.
TO THE
TYRANT SON OF ABBAS.
FLATTERY was ne’er my tribute to the GREAT,
Nor to the HUMBLE were my words austere:
Ne’er with the LOFTY did I seek my seat,
Votaries of FORTUNE, or the slaves of FEAR.
Thou wast my PRINCE, I therefore honour’d thee;
My sword, my fealty, and my life were thine,
’Till like the mock-thron’d GAURE, compell’d to flee,
I felt the blessedness of FREEDOM mine.
Scorning deceit, unpractised to betray,
For TRUTH I dared to meet the frowns of FATE:
JUSTICE should thus direct a Sovereign’s sway,
And MERCY ever sit beside his gate.
REASON should guide him—for he is a man,
HONOR adorn him—for he is a KING;
Meer power despotic—like a GIANT’s span,
Is soon contracted by a reptile’s sting.
So when the LION, from a rising rock
Surveys the vales, and deems their herds his prize,
A few poor puny GNATS that round him flock,
May in a moment close his greedy eyes.
AVARICE should find no place upon a throne,
Nor shameless FRAUD conceal rich CASKETS
60 there,
A life of true BENEFICENCE alone,
Can call down blessings like a prophet’s pray’r.
FAITH and GOOD-DEEDS the aid of Heaven obtain,
Howe’er by man insulted or opprest;
While VICE and VIOLENCE exult in vain,
Strangers to peace, security, and rest.
The PERSIAN people, grown degenerate,—base,
Required a scourge—and found that scourge in thee;
For GOD’s afflictive judgments smite the race,
That sinks abandon’d to iniquity.
O fear HIM then—omnipotent as just!
Of whose pure GLORY,
61 one resplendant ray
Reduc’d MOUNT PHARAN into instant dust,
As the first substance flow’d in streams away.
No! proud, lascivious Man! thou fear’st him not,
And therefore I should fear thee, wert thou here:
A heart more hard than SHEBEEB’s
61 is thy lot,
And curst like VALID,
62 thou canst shed no tear.
All thy delights, (if thou delight canst know,)
Are sensual, selfish, drawn from others’ wrong;
On thee no warm sun shines, no breezes blow,
But meet some malediction from thy tongue.
Obtain the luxuries of a thousand shores,
Indulge thine appetites, thy pomp, thy pride,
Let captive beauty—riches—swell thy stores,
And slaughter’d subjects fall on every side:
Deep in thy heart the thorn of GUILT shall lie;
TYRANTS who live like thee, hard, unrepentant die.
TO THE
LUXURIOUS.
YE, who beneath rich canopies of state,
Mid circling slaves, that bend with servile awe,
Sit idly great; in SULTAN pomp elate,
Your wild-will JUSTICE, and your passions LAW.
Lo! costly odours, and the richest wine,
To crown your banquets from far realms are borne,
And all the treasures of the East combine
To make your splendors emulate the morn.
Tho’ melting sounds of music’s vocal strains,
With the soft lute in harmony combined,
Or dance of WANTON BEAUTY strive, in chains
Light as her step, to hold the captive mind.
Ev’n, tho’ a thousand sensual ARTS unite
To raise the enervated sould to joy;
Say, pass you in the HARAM OF DELIGHT
63
Your listless languid hours without annoy?
In LUXURY’s vale, or FLATTERY’s fertile field,
What crops of tares reward the tiller’s toil!
What acid grapes your mental vineyards yield!
What rank and poisonous weeds o’erspread the soil!
Will SLOTH (that hag unknown to NATURE) lead
Your half-form’d weary thoughts to sweet repose;
Or with false appetites and passions plead,
Along the stream from FOLLY’s fount that flows,
Hasty and foul, to swell the troubled lake
Of PREJUDICE, or stagnate round the root
Of PRIDE’s cloud-piercing tree, whose branches ache,
Bending beneath a load of vapid fruit?
Once, like yourselves, in flowery fetters bound,
To soft desires of sense I captive fell;
Smiled on the margin of that gulf profound,
Whose giddy whirlpools sink to DEATH and HELL.
Deem’d it a bliss to bear delusion’s chain;
Spurn’d at those truths that WISDOM’s voice displays;
’Till blest ADVERSITY assumed her reign,
And oped mine eyes to HEAVEN’s all beauteous rays:
Scourged me with thorns from LUXURY’s soft abode,
Tore me from man, and raised my soul to GOD.
FREEDOM.
‘FILL—fill the cup with generous WINE,
And pass the circling goblet round;
Expand the heart, dull thoughts resign,
And let the song of JOY resound.
‘Let BEAUTY’s praise inspire the lay;
Fond LOVE thy rapturous strains impart;
Thou, FRIENDSHIP, too, thy charms display,
And reign united o’er my heart.’
Bright were the joys the draught inspired;
Sweet were the numbers of the song:
While all the heart enchanted, fired,
Bless’d the gay hours that flew along.
They flew, unmark’d by GRIEF or CARE,
For YOUTH and FORTUNE hail’d the day:
LOVE bless’d my vows, and FRIENDSHIP fair
Warm’d like the sun’s unclouded ray.
That smiled around on earth and skies.
O’er man could happier moments roll?
‘Yes, ACHMED, yes!’—hark! FREEDOM cries,
I was a stranger to thy soul.’
TO
ENVY.
DISTRACTION, Monster! seize thine every thought,
Thine every scheme be frustrate.—What of good
E’er in thy blasted yew-walks refuge sought,
And found it?—Worst hag of JEHENNEM’s
64 brood!
I hate thee more than EBLIS, sire of SIN.
Thy bloody-mantled sister, CRUELTY,
Scarce the dread work of torment does begin,
Until inflamed and goaded on by thee.
Thou, fiend insatiate! findst not food in HELL
To gorge thine appetite:—those hideous eyes
Range thro’ the world of man, starved wolf-like, fell,
Yet sickening close whene’er they meet the skies.
For HAPPINESS is there thou canst not reach,
To trouble, taint, diminish, or destroy.
How long wilt thou on earth, blasphemer! teach,
That GOD ne’er GAVE for mortals to ENJOY?
Unless in some delusive guise, awhile
To taste mock bliss that terminates in tears;
Or, save when wildering dreams of hope beguile,
To leave the fond heart overwhelm’d with fears.
Self torturing spirit! thou canst know no rest,
While ANGELS spread their MAKER’s bounties wide,
And in the act of blessing, doubly blest,
Fly from thee, far as PIETY from PRIDE!
Ungrateful MISER of the gifts of GOD!
Thou rather wouldst thy canker’d entrails rend,
Feel the dire scourge of TABEKH’s
65 fiery rod,
Than see one heavenly joy on man descend.
Tho’ thy dark visage mock th’ eclipsing moon,
Or locust clouds, wide-hovering, blot the stars;
Dark as the horrors of that dreadful noon,
When VENGEANCE drew the sword of KAIOMARS;
66
Know, fiend abhorr’d! there is a power bestow’d
On generous souls, to daunt thy giant brood:
As SIMORG ANKA’s
67 living armour glow’d
Effulgence, that the GENI race subdued.
Thou dar’st not enter ACHMED’s lonely cave,
Thou canst no venom thro’ his heart diffuse,
Thou canst not plunge him in life’s stormy wave,
Thou canst not dim the sunshine of his views.
DEMON! thou canst not in his bosom raise
One sigh, for all that TREACHERY from him rent,
To swell A VILLAIN’s boast:—whilst rugged ways
O’er deserts led the wand’rer to CONTENT.
Unkindred spirits! never shall ye meet—
From ENVY, far as HAVIAT’s
68 gloom from Heaven,
Should ACHMED with CONTENT, his sociate sweet,
Beyond the planetary spheres be driven:
Thro’ lapsing ages traverse boundless space,
With all the swiftness of the light’ning’s speed:
Yet, at the utmost wild-range of his race,
Still would he find himself, like VIRTUE’s meed,
Embosom’d in that blest INFINITY,
To WHOM creation as a point appears
Amid the vast abyss.—ETERNITY
Thus shows how moment-like the lapse of years.
Dark FIEND, avaunt! For the world’s happiness
Let others envying pine.—CONTENT I here possess.
MORNING.
TO western climes as speed the GOBLIN crew,
The starry SENTINELS of Heaven retire,
Save ONE bright form, that o’er the trembling dew
Mingles his sapphire beam with golden fire.
Deep growls the BEAST of CARNAGE, from the waste
Retracing slow the steps he trod before:
The VULTURE rears his crest, and snuffs the blast,
Scenting afar the savage stain’d with gore.
From the rude apex of yon mountain’s brow,
Majestic see the ardent eagle rise,
Hailing with joy the warm diffusive glow,
He meets the sun-beam in the midway skies.
By gates, and bars, and circling guards, secured,
The PERSIAN TYRANT groans in beauty’s arms,
He knows no joy, no peace, no power assured,
TO HONOR dead, and dead to NATURE’s charms.
What tho’ victorious chiefs his realms extend,
In each victorious chief he fears a foe;
While in his own dark heart, a deadly fiend
Prompts to black deeds, then echoes, GUILT and WOE.
His days tumultuous, and his nights unblest;
His VIZIERS faithless, and his KHANS
69 unsound;
Visions of terror break convulsive rest,
And ev’n the rays of MORN have power to wound.
The captive wretch thro’ life that bears his chain,
The virgin doom’d to prove his brutal lust,
The tortured victims that his rage sustain,
May hope in death the portion of the JUST.
But can that HOPE pervade the TYRANT’s soul,
Long sunk in crimes, and daily acting new,
Remorseless, spurning MERCY’s mild controul?
I thank thee, Heaven! I’ve bid his realms adieu.
Here, MORN! thy lovely beams unsullied shine,
Pure as those beams, thy breezes wing their way;
HEALTH and CONTENT and LIBERTY are mine;
And like the FAWN my sportive fancies play.
The soul unfetter’d, undistraught with cares,
Heedless of all the din that jars mankind,
Far from life’s discord, pride, and sensual snares,
Hails each effusion of TH’ ETERNAL MIND.
SEES that effusion, NATURE! thro’ thy reign;
FEELS it in pure emotions of the heart;
HEARS it melodious in the warbler’s strain;
TASTES it in all that can delight impart:
While flowery blooms that ev’n these rocks adorn,
Breathe it in FRAGRANCE to the opening MORN.
TRANSITION.
HOW blest the day when bursting from the chains
Of iron-hearted interest, slavish fear,
And fiend-born superstition—o’er the plains
Of FREEDOM, man shall run his bold career!
So runs the bounding STAG, with ardour wild,
That seeks the shelter of his native shades;
No more by appetite or sloth beguiled,
He longs to traverse safe the lonely glades.
Marking the WOLF’s dire foot-tracks, swift away
Along the wind, he soon eludes a foe
Unskill’d with arts insidious to betray,
Or, from afar inflict the deadly blow.
With such thy happy fortune, ACHMED, here,
Forgive the wretch who sought thy blood to shed,
Nor deem the storm of destiny severe,
That shower’d down blessings on thy favour’d head.
When HEAVEN in mercy spares, the dangers past
Contrasted, heighten all the joys we feel;
Thus SPRING emerges from the wintry blast,
From its dark scabbard thus the gleaming steel.
The black cloud flown, thus lovely VENUS shines,
Soft HEZAR’s notes succeed the howlet’s scream.
The gloom-form’d treasures drawn from murky mines,
Catch dazzling brilliance from the SUN’s first beam.
Thus, rising from the grave, the righteous soul,
Clad in etherial vesture, mounts the skies;
And while below dark billowy oceans roll,
He views fair PARADISE with raptured eyes,
Contrasting heavenly JOYS with earthly strife,
Blesses the parting pangs of mortal life!
BENEFICENCE.
IF possess’d of hoarded treasure,
Wouldst thou strive to bless thy store?
Be it then thy sweetest pleasure
To impart it to the poor.
What art thou, this gift possessing,
But the minister of GRIEF,
If thou hide the radiant blessing,
Like the base and abject THIEF?
Look around thee, MAN! and say
Wouldst thou, like the source of day,
Pour the golden flood of light,
And glad the nations lost in night;
Exulting view thy lovely beams
Illume the mountains, dance along the streams;
Bid the wide earth in extacy rejoice,
And all her vocal tribes with grateful voice
Hymn their delight?—Or, like the VULTURE, cow’r
O’er the fall’n ELEPHANT, unable to devour
That giant carcase; yet insatiate, aim
To guard the mighty prey from every puny claim;
Crouch like the DRAGON in his murky den,
O’er gems and gold he knows not to employ:
Writhing his care-worn frame—his watchful ken,
Guards all approach of CHARITY or JOY?
What tho’ the lovers of this fleeting world,
Like hungry DOGS, growl o’er their carrion prey;
Tho’ musky odours in their track were hurl’d,
Still by the tainted breeze would guide their way:
Thou, ACHMED, all such base examples shun,
Be great, beneficent, and imitate the SUN.
If, by the SCOURGE OF FATE, to deserts driv’n,
Thou there hast met the favouring smile of HEAVEN.
If REASON build her mansion in thy mind:
If MEDITATION with EXPERIENCE join’d:
While every passion slumbers in the breast,
False hopes, and fears, and interests soothed to rest:
If WISDOM’s sacred flame illume thy soul,
And nought the freedom of her will controul.
To weak, to erring man, that light impart,
To guide his wand’ring steps, and warm his torpid heart.
Teach him the vanity of earthly things,
From sensual, sordid views, to pageant Kings:
Teach him—distinctions of the LORD and SLAVE,
Are soon forgotten in the silent grave.
That NATURE’s various gifts, where’er bestow’d,
Are all, the bounties of her guardian GOD.
These gratefully received, a bliss impart,
Beyond the boast of POWER, or pride of ART.
Teach him to act on NATURE’s simple plan,
Resign’d to HEAVEN—unconfident in MAN.
Teach him to prize HUMILITY and LOVE,
And seeking PEACE on earth—foretaste the joys above.
TO THE
SNAKE.
LET the false world, with dark reproach, compare
Thy winding course, to their meand’ring wiles,
That ceaseless form for INNOCENCE the snare,
And brew black venom under infant smiles.
Compare thy beautifully-tinted skin,
Thy graceful motion, and fair tapering form,
To those temptations that allure to sin:
To the gay sunshine that precedes the storm.
Gift thee with all the doublings of DECEIT,
In simplest guise still watchful to betray:
And, deep in human artifice, complete
The deadly character themselves display.
Such as young ACHMED (happier ACHMED here),
In FORTUNE’s golden day, too sadly found:
Such as the seasons of the circling year
Shall still survey, in their unwearied round.
Thou blameless inmate of the thorny brake,
Heed not the blast of man’s calumnious breath:
O ne’er the VIPER attributes partake,
Whose venomed rancour joys in wounds and death.
Should barbarous RAGE, or MALICE seek thy life,
Retire, haste, hide thee in some deep recess,
Nor with contemptuous hiss provoke a strife
That would destroy thy simple happiness.
Yet (and perhaps with truth) thy frequent flight
Has borne the stigma of a coward fear:
With COWARDICE base cruelties unite,
And run with TREACHERY a dread career.
When PRUDENCE calls, true bravery will retreat,
Nor trust the GEM OF LIFE in HATRED’s hand.
INTEGRITY, uncensured, dreads DECEIT,
As WISDOM shuns the touch of FOLLY’s wand.
The BRAVE are generous, sincere and free,
The COWARD flies from all but INFAMY.
TO
NATURE.
WHO can behold thy wildly varied forms,
Thy gentler beauties, and thy lovely hues;
Or walk sublime amid thy mountain storms,
O NATURE! and the vocal lay refuse?
Fair transcript of the vast eternal mind,
With awe—with love—with ever-new delight:
Viewing thy charms, I bless the ties that bind
My soul to thee; ne’er may they disunite.
For all the works of GOD combine in thee,
Vast aggregate of his creative will!
To him a point—to man immensity!
Fired with the sentiment, I fear no ill.
’Tis confidence in an eternal good:
’Tis resignation to almighty power:
’Tis human reason floating on the flood
Of WISDOM infinite, thro’ FORTUNE’s hour.
In HIM shall ACHMED’s boundless FAITH repose,
Thro’ every change of sublunary things;
Life of our joys, and balm of all our woes,
The diadem of PEACE to RIGHTEOUS KINGS!
When these, O lovely NATURE! learn to prize
Thy simple charms, the harbingers of TRUTH;
Then shall celestial virtues round them rise,
Fairer than all the blooms of vernal youth.
Then, spurning all the viper-brood of ART,
That taint the air of COURTS with poisonous breath,
Where embrio DEMONS form in FLATTERY’s heart,
And LUXURY riots on the spoils of DEATH.
Yes, spurning these, th’ indignant MAN of SWAY
Shall feel more joy, to will a NATION blest;
More comfort, in one heaven-approving day,
Than ASIA’s proudest Conqueror e’er possest.
Thro’ thee, O NATURE! will I raise my love,
To thine eternal ARCHETYPE above.
MIDNIGHT REFLECTIONS.
THE savage haunted forest rises round:
The drear—lorn deserts far more widely spread.
Stern winter reigns: night low’rs in gloom profound:
Roar the wild winds: Affrighted sleep is fled.
This solitary CAVE is cold and dank;
The hungry WOLF an entrance strives to find:
All SOCIAL JOYS afar—a horrid blank
Seems to involve the outcast of mankind.
Poor—miserable ACHMED! what remains
Of all those comforts once enjoy’d by thee?
Indignant memory of my former chains,
With Health, Content, sweet Peace and Liberty!
These blessings triumph o’er the wintry glooms,
And render night more fair than slavery’s day:
SPRING shall adorn these rocks with lovelier blooms,
Than ART’s fantastic rose-walks can display.
I’d rather rove along the broken shades
Of old torn trees, in SUMMER’s sultry hours,
Than mid the artificial groves and glades
Of tasteless pomp—its founts—its jasmine bowers.
The shaggy mountain, rising vast and rude,
When the last sun-beam paints its rocky brow;
Or more sublime, in twilight solitude,
Dead’ns the proud dome, and sinks its turrets low.
Nor let th’ autumnal fruitage art obtains,
Presume to vie with all these wilds produce;
As well might vinous draughts that fire the brains,
Rival SHIRABEH’s soul-inspiring juice.
Let the gaunt WOLF howl eager as he stalks,
I heed him not,—I know his coward dread:
He’ll not molest me in my lonely walks,
More than the WILD-GOAT on the mountain’s head.
The only foe I’d shun is faithless MAN!
Who drove me hither, would destroy me here:
Yet such, O NATURE, is thy wond’rous plan,
I love—whom sad experience bids me fear.
No individual’s sword, or ranc’rous hate,
Could for a moment raise my soul’s alarm:
I’ve met my equals in the field of FATE,
And felt those wounds that yet my courage warm.
But ’tis from MEN—degenerate MEN! combined,
As mutual guards from violence and wrong!
Yet, prompt to aid th’ OPPRESSORS of mankind,
A bigot multitude—a sordid throng.
Dead to all sense of freedom, dead to shame:
Lost to each manly sentiment of heart:
No mental energies their souls inflame,
To act a firm—disinterested part.
They hate not TYRANNY, but long to share
Its meanest portion, and in turn oppress:
And at his nod, whose sanguine TAJE
70 they wear,
Attack life, liberty, or happiness.
Such form the mass of MAN, self-fetter’d slaves
Of SUPERSTITION, INDOLENCE, DECEIT;
The thoughtless herd at first creates, then craves
Absurd protection of th’ unfeeling great.
Thus, when the poor deluded GAURE
71 surveys
His miserable dwelling wrapt in flame,
He sees his ALL consume:—adores the blaze;
And, prostrate, praises mighty AZAR’s
72 name!
Approach ye great, awhile your pomp resign,
Learn what is MAN in NATURE’s simple reign;
Say, have ye known a LIBERTY like mine,
And will you still bear DESPOTISM’s chain?
Yes! LUXURY, PRIDE, and servile lust of POWER,
Rose in the HOROSCOPE
73 that mark’d your natal hour.
TO THE
CAMEL.
EMBLEM of persevering patient toil;
Pattern of long-enduring abstinence:
By thy example taught, I learn to foil
The importuning snares of every sense.
Meek, patient sufferer! O’er the burning sands
Of the long desert, parch’d with thirst like thee,
Hast thou convey’d the wealth of Indian lands,
And oft to thine oppressor bent the knee.
Crouch’d in the dust, obedient to command,
Prompt to receive the elephantine load;
Attentive to the guidance of his hand,
Down the rude mountain’s steeply rugged road.
What’s the reward of all this toilsome care,
And tame subservience to thy master’s will?
A scanty pittance of the coarsest fare,
Brouzed on the way-side of the shrubby hill?
Bondage alas! is thy unceasing lot,
And cruel stripes too oft thy toils attend;
For one false step, past services forgot:
The too submissive rarely find a friend.
A TYRANT’s doubly such to those that trust
In the base workings of his wayward mind;
And all whose aid supports his power unjust,
Or soon, or late, a dark reward will find.
Experience would instruct. How few that learn,
How many follow what they ought to flee!
An abject spirit never will discern
The sweetest joys arise from LIBERTY.
Bend thou the knee, receive thy load to-day,
Pass on, and meet with insult: check thy moan:
To-morrow, lo! a thousand shall display
This truth—That FOLLY never acts alone.
One base example oft more followers gains,
Than every precept WISDOM’s BOOK contains!
THE
ECLIPSE.
WITHOUT a shade, where beams the orient light?
Where blooms the lovely rose without a thorn?
Is there a day without succeeding night?
Is there a MAN to no MISFORTUNE born?
Is there a SULTAN free from cares of state?
Is there a VIZIER free from anxious dread?
Is there a chieftain with success elate,
Whose FORTUNE hangs not on a spider’s thread?
Is there a sea unrufled by a storm,
Or rock-fenced shore unbeaten by the main?
Is there a sky no tempests e’er deform,
Or cloud that melts not into falling rain?
Ev’n now, the glorious SUN eclipsed I see,
Deep sunk in shadows, lo! his beams decay:
Why then, should prosperous FORTUNE favor me,
Thro’ life’s dim circle with a cloudless ray?
Grant me, just GOD! a calm, unfetter’d mind,
A humble heart—in all, to thee resign’d.
EXPANSION.
SHALL we not trace the various charms that please
Thro’ NATURE—to an origin DIVINE?
The pearl all-beauteous, form’d by dark disease,
With rubies, sapphires, emeralds shall shine.
The powers of FANCY in the human mind,
Oft from the paths of TRUTH and NATURE stray,
Yet, their effusions artfully combined,
TO TRUTH and NATURE point the certain way.
The destitution of these lively powers
That paint to age the sportive joys of youth;
Leads to profound research, employs the hours
Of studious WISDOM, in pursuit of TRUTH.
The vast of SCIENCE, boundless as th’ expanse
That holds the starry Heavens, invites the mind
Of man or angel, dauntless to advance,
Leaving all bounded hopes and spheres behind.
But vain the powers of man, or angel flight,
The infinite of knowledge to pursue:
For bounded faculties must find delight
In bounded objects, equal to their view.
Hence let me ever venerate and love
The simply-varied prospects NATURE yields,
Superior to the PERIES’ blooming grove,
Enchanted palaces, and musky fields.
I love to traverse the wild tracts around;
I love the forest glooms, and lonely glades;
The rising rock, the wooded glen profound,
Almost conceal’d in deep embow’ring shades.
And there, along the little wandering stream,
At morn, at noon, at eve, I love to stray,
To see its frequent-falling waters gleam
Down the dark steep, caught by some vagrant ray;
And musing, listen to the water-fall,
Converse with echoes all along the vale;
Gaze the rude shrub-crown’d cliff, or cypress tall,
That graceful greets the lightly-passing gale.
There, haply may the powers of GENIUS dwell,
Where wild poetic FANCY loves to stray,
And led by NATURE’s more than wizard spell,
In rapturous delight enjoys the day.
Rocks raised on rocks, aspiring to the skies;
Shades, shadowing shades, the winding vale descend;
To narrow bounds restricted, here the eye
Sees a romantic charm each scene attend.
’Tis thus in human life, the heart that finds
Domestic comforts in its humble home,
Will ne’er on fluttering pinions mount the winds
To gain the summit of AMBITION’s dome.
And yet, EXPANSION is delightful, too;
Expansion! torment to the sordid soul,
Opens sublime those prospects to our view,
That tempt a flight beyond the world’s controul.
Let not the TYRANT think I languish here;
An active spirit to this frame was given,
That triumphs over destiny severe,
And finds repose, altho’ to deserts driven.
Laments the abject state of wretched men,
And hails fair FREEDOM in a LION’s DEN!
TO
AZRAEL,
THE
ANGEL OF DEATH.
WHAT’s life? what’s death? Fate’s sunshine or its gloom?
And what th’ alternate gift that each bestows?
A glittering bubble, or a silent tomb,
A giddy whirlwind, or a calm repose.
Amid the agitating storm, too long
My wearied soul has felt the direful blast:
Now, DEATH, to thee I pour my pensive song,
And claim from thee a tranquil hour at last.
Yes, mighty AZRAEL! I with transport view
Thy pale-wing’d messengers before thee fly:
Soon shall my grateful heart declare anew,
How pleasing to the wretched ’tis to die.
Such is the bliss from adverse fate that springs,
Thou beamst all-radiant on my closing hour:
I mount from earth, O AZRAEL! on thy wings,
And rapturous enter RUZVAN’s
74 happy bower.
While FORTUNE’s sons, and PLEASURE’s giddy train,
Start from their revels at thy sullen call;
And as they seek some sheltering shield in vain,
Their vital flame is quench’d in viper’s gall.
How dire a fate life’s blessings to forego!
But, ah! how sweet to quit a world of woe.
VIRTUE
INSEPARABLE FROM NATURE.
LET LUXURY her fancied wants deplore,
Let AVARICE pine amid his hoarded wealth;
Let the proud Conqu’ror, when his wars are o’er,
Offer whole kingdoms for an hour of health.
For inward PEACE, CONTENT, heart-kindling JOY,
Such as reward the duties Heaven requires;
Rewards to those who their best hours employ,
To vanquish strife and quench destruction’s fires.
Obedient, heavenly WISDOM, to thy voice,
(More sweet than music to the virtuous ear),
Causing the poor, the aged to rejoice,
JUSTICE their guide, and MERCY their compeer.
Not all HINDOSTAN’s wealth can purchase these,
Nor the soul-soothing hope from these that springs;
That hope ne’er shipwreck’d on life’s stormy seas,
Can meet the tempest on seraphic wings.
The GOOD MAN lives beyond the day of death:
The BAD MAN dies before the year of doom:
FATE ever threat’ning, claims his forfeit breath,
Till giant INFAMY bestride his tomb!
On thee, O GOD! my soul for aid relies,
On thee for ever shall her hopes depend;
Perish the earth, and dissipate the skies,
VIRTUE shall live, for thou art VIRTUE’s friend.
No—not apart from NATURE, she is thine,
Thy WISDOM infinite, her charms combined;
Omnipotence sustains the fair design,
Eternal transcript of the heavenly mind.
Thro’ her delightful, ever varying round,
O let my soul a rapt enthusiast fly!
Still to her love may I be faithful found,
Live in her life, till FATE compel TO DIE.
To DIE IS NATURE’s SABBATH.—To survive
Is NATURE fraught with ACTIVE ENERGY.
All from one omnipresent LIFE derive
Existence, Joy, and love of Liberty.
Ah! when will man, deluded man, rejoice
In NATURE’s bliss, and listen to her voice;
The voice of TRUTH, of HARMONY and LOVE,
That with the eagle’s strength unites the mildness of the Dove?
TO
DISEASE.
UNWELCOME harbinger of languid woe,
Pale emissary from the court of DEATH,
Why wilt thou LUXURY’s soft abode forego,
To bid me draw with pain my labouring breath?
Wilt thou in these wild forests make abode,
Where NATURE holds her ever-temperate reign,
And quit for savage solitudes, the road
That leads thro’ short-lived pleasure’s fair domain?
It lies before thee.—There the sensual throng
Await thy coming, and invite thy stay:
There shall the sons of ART thy powers prolong,
And bid thee reign the despot of the day.
Whether insidious on soft languor’s bed,
Thou hold’st thy secret DIVAN
75 to destroy;
Or fierce, by fever’d rage of slaughter led,
In wild delirium all thy force employ.
Tremendous power! appall’d, thy form I view,
As the hush’d warbler’s eye beholds the snake;
Shall my fix’d gaze by FASCINATION, too,
Imbibe the venom, and the fate partake?
Forbid it, all ye salutary gales,
That waft a cool refreshment on your wings,
Forbid it, all ye lightly-shaded vales,
And you, ye ever-pure pellucid springs.
Ye rocky summits, where the wild heath blooms
Mid aromatic sweets that ceaseless rise,
And yield the tribute of their fresh perfumes,
A grateful offering to the vernal skies.
Forbid it, HEAVEN! whose kindly genial beam
Renews the vigour of my wasted frame,
Causing the lamp of life with cheerful gleam
Once more to animate its faded flame.
Why wilt thou linger here, dark spectre, say?
Lo! mighty AZRAEL beckons thee away.
THE
TEMPEST.
WILD tumult bursting from the depths of hell,
Invades the sacred empire of the night:
Deep thunders mingle with the tyger’s yell,
And the torn heavens blaze forth sulphureous light.
Vast fragments from the high impending rock
O’erwhelm the lightning-rifted pines below;
The giant mountain scarce sustains the shock;
And as the winds with madd’ning fury blow,
Descend the clouds—the ten-fold torrents roar,
And round th’ OPPRESSOR’s dome dark spirits howl.
There was a time, when ACHMED thus could soar
’Mid the conflicting tempests of his soul;
Catch a congenial fury from the blast,
And bid it rise more dreadful o’er the earth,
’Till haughty TYRANTS, red with crimes, aghast,
Should execrate the day that gave them birth:
Should tear the gorgeous trappings of their pride:
Abjure the violence of lawless sway:
Hopeless of mercy they so oft denied,
And all their base dependants shrunk away:
Dash from their lips th’ untasted draught of death,
And hurl the dagger from their murd’rous hands,
Fly to lone glooms, there draw their lingering breath
Thro’ nights more num’rous than TEHAMA’s
76 sands:
Stung with remorse, o’erwhelm’d with guilty shame,
Conscious that millions execrate their name!
TO
AMBITION.
WHAT are the dazzling objects of thine aim,
AMBITION! scourge of empires, and of all
Who dare repel, or fortify thy claim:
Both doom’d by thee, infuriate fiend, to fall.
Thou offspring of a cruel, proud, self-love,
Untameable Hyæna! ne’er wilt cease
The bane of joy, of freedom, life, to rove,
And ev’n of thine own safety, rest, and peace.
By turns the false friend, flatterer, or the foe,
Of all that’s noble, generous, or brave:
Viewing in each above thee or below,
The hated rival, or the destined slave.
To thee what’s honor, justice, public-good,
Or aught that leads to virtuous self-esteem?
Mad pestilence of HELL! go, swim in blood,
Go, realize the maniac’s sleepless dream.
Like SAUGHERY,
77 go, supplant thy fortune’s friend!
MONTAZER
78 like, thy sire remorseless slay!
Like ABBAS,
79 from thy son his eye-balls rend;
And then, insatiate, tear his life away!
In VIRTUE’s semblance sit on VICE’s throne;
With mimic JUSTICE, do deliberate WRONG:
Thro’ ravaged realms, and cities overthrown,
Go, chaunt, accursed of Heaven, the Murd’rer’s song.
Go! wander in some calm and moony night,
Along the vale where CHEHEL-MINAR
80 lies:
There, listening, as some DEMON yells affright,
Turn unappall’d, and view with wild surprize,
The long-fall’n domes to all their pride restored,—
Such as they rose in PERSIA’s golden days!
Ere lust of conquest led thy bands abhorr’d,
O’er burning deserts, or thro’ boist’rous seas.
So fame relates.—The midnight wandering man,
Whose feet approach these walls with dauntless tread!
Beholds the visionary pomp—’till wan
Around him, stalk tall shadows of the DEAD.
If the low groan of HORROR chill his heart,
If overwhelming FEAR assume its sway,
From their firm base the superstructures start,
And like faint misty vapours fleet away.
Legions of horrid SPECTRES round him throng,
And during all the residue of night,
Thro’ labyrinths of ruin chase along
The poor wretch trembling in his mazy flight.
Thro’ vaulted passages and spacious halls,
Whose star-crown’d columns seem to prop the sky,
While massy fragments of the marble walls,
On every side in rude confusion lie.
Howls the fierce wolf, the night-bird loudly screams,
Thro’ the wide portals moans a hollow blast,
The MOON in sable clouds conceals her beams,
Awaken’d echoes shriek!—HE stands aghast!
But lo! the first faint gleams of MORN arise.
Low speak the walls the MYSTIC WORDS they bear.
The deep foundations shake.—Each spectre flies
To his enchanted place, and fixes there!
Transform’d to STONE, no mortal force can rend
Their giant bulk away, ’till that dread hour,
When long-impending VENGEANCE shall descend,
And AYRAN’s fall unbind the MAGIC power.
Those hideous forms thus ranged in mute array,
Were VIZIERS, who employed a MONARCH’s name,
To aid their own base aims, oppress, betray;
Rapacious, cruel, and devoid of shame.
Or MAJES,
81 who approach’d with faithless hearts
The altars of their GOD—thus expiate
Their pride, hypocrisy, and impious arts,
That sanctioned private guilt, or public hate.
O may the MASTER of the powerful spell,
If e’er AMBITION, thou my soul inflame,
Doom me with these in magic bonds to dwell,
Turn me to STONE, and there inscribe my name.
THE
TOMB OF FORTUNE.
THRO’ all the mazes of delusive ART,
Let restless mortals serpentize their way,
Check each emotion of the feeling heart,
Where NATURE claims an undivided sway.
Pant for the phantoms of AMBITION’s aim,
Grasp at the countless wealth that AVARICE craves,
Or lured by sensual PLEASURE’s fev’rish dream,
’Midst their wild visions are they real slaves.
Slaves to some power, (despotic as the FATE
That hangs o’er all its strong compulsive chain)
Who bids the TYRANT in his pomp elate,
Bend abject to a lordlier tyrant’s reign.
Blest was the hour that overwhelm’d my soul
With dark ADVERSITY’s tremendous gloom;
Burst the strong fetters of the world’s controul,
While TRUTH, all radiant, shone on FORTUNE’s tomb.
On FORTUNE’s TOMB these sacred lines I read:
‘CONTENTMENT with my smile was never given,
Estranged from HER, even life itself is dead:
AFFLICTION opes the gate that leads to Heaven.’
SOLITUDE.
THE azure face of Heaven no cloud enveils,
No light-breeze waves the foliage of the wood,
No voice, no murmur, now the ear assails,
Mild, tranquil all, as souls divinely good.
Thy placid beams, fair MOON! diffuse around,
O’er earth and sky a sweetly soften’d day;
While rocks and woods, and hollow glens profound,
Contrast their shadowy glooms to thy pure ray.
How sweet, O NATURE! are thy simple charms:
What fair delights attend thy silent hour:
How different far, from those the din of arms
Conveys in TRIUMPH to the sons of power.
No PRIDE, no ENVY, no AMBITION, here
Lead pale REMORSE to ANGUISH and DESPAIR:
No sanguine HOPE, no spectre-haunted FEAR,
No self-devoted sacrifice to CARE.
The stream of DAY smooth-gliding from its source,
Thro’ smiling vales of ever green delight,
Here wandering, winds its gently devious course,
To dance with moon-beams on the lake of NIGHT.
Long banish’d hence, each dark, discordant thought:
Each vain desire, each passion sooth’d to peace:
Lost the false lore by EDUCATION taught,
While all the mental energies increase.
Increase and kindle, NATURE, as I view
Thy hourly-varying beauties round me rise,
Or, up the mountain-steeps my course pursue,
Where wilder, more stupendous scenes surprize.
And canst thou, ACHMED, thus serenely blest,
Turn to yon agitated world of strife?
Can its vain joys, its love, pervade thy breast,
And bid it sigh again for social life?
Yes—often does that sigh of social love,
With charm instinctive softly here intrude,
And tell me, ‘MAN was never born to rove
O’er rugged wilds, in ceaseless SOLITUDE.’
Yet often too, does old EXPERIENCE find,
The firm support of REASON’s potent sway:
Her voice recals th’ afflicted wand ring mind,
From all that FATE, or FORTUNE reft away.
Asks the fond heart, if midst the world of youth
It found ONE SOUL congenial with its own?
Enquires if HONOR, EQUITY, and TRUTH,
Dwell in the cottage, or sustain the throne?
If cities, courts, or camps their presence grace?
If yet sweet PEACE with man has deign’d to dwell,
Parent of blessings to the human race,
Beyond the comforts of this silent cell?
‘Ah! NO.’—Th’ inspiring voice of HEAVEN replies,
‘Here gratefully repose, in true contentment wise.’
THE
DERVISH.
WITHOUT assistance of the reas’ning power,
Without a precept, or an earthly guide;
Without apparent motive, every hour,
The soul on her own movements will decide.
Repress—excite—resolve:—and simply fraught
With inborn sentiment of wrong or right,
More justly act, than when distracted thought
Wanders by REASON’s misdirected light.
How oft dull mists o’erspread the sluggish mind,
Distorting or obscuring all around:
Mid clouds of ERROR, blown by PASSION’s wind,
Will TRUTH, bright ANGEL, sit divinely crown’d?
See, worldly WISDOM, in her devious course,
She seeks rich harvests from the stony plain:
Thro’ sandy deserts would the streamlet force,
Or raise tall forests on the stormy main?
See INTEREST, PREJUDICE, and PRIDE, combined
To lead insulted REASON far astray:
See POWER tyrannically awe mankind,
And grasp even mental freedom as her prey.
See POVERTY’s long train of deep’ning woes,
Incessant TOIL, pale FAMINE, and DISEASE;
OPPRESSION, SLAVERY, every ill that grows,
From mis-led IGNORANCE combined with these.
Enter some proud SERAGLIO,
82 where enshrined
Sits SENSUAL JOY, in all her wishes blest,
And say, what powerful influence o’er the mind
Has sacred REASON ever there possest.
Lone in the bosom of BERKESTAN’s wood,
A hoary DERVISH long has made abode;
Remote from ill—sought only by the good,
His converse holy as his prayer to GOD.
Attentive, hear the venerable SAGE
Speak the experience of a length of years;
And deeply read in WISDOM’s sacred page,
What sweet simplicity of heart appears.
‘Why wilt thou, restless mortal, vainly stray,
Thro’ the dark mazes of the world, to gain
That rule of life, whose strong, persuasive sway,
Shall o’er thy soul dominion-long obtain;
‘Guide thee thro’ paths of HONOR, VIRTUE, PEACE;
Bless thee thro’ life, and bless thy parting breath:
Lead thee to scenes where joy shall never cease,
Beyond the power of pain, disease, or death.
‘Seek not the learn’d expounders of THE LAW,
Whose mystic dogmas render dimness blind:
Nor from the page of HIST’RY seek to draw
The bright exemplars of a perfect mind.
‘But humbly listen to the gentle voice
Of TRUTH, of NATURE, and her sovereign LORD,
That speaks within thy heart, confirms thy choice
In all that’s GOOD, and renders VICE abhorr’d.
‘Bids thee be mild, beneficent and free:
Bids thee be ever temperate, ever just:
Adverse to STRIFE, OPPRESSION’s enemy,
And ne’er forget thou art the child of dust.
‘Then—then shall REASON bear her genuine sway,
And sun-like, brighten all the mental day:
Then, wing’d with FAITH, thy soul pursue her course,
Pure as she sprang from her ETERNAL SOURCE.’
TO THE
NIGHTINGALE.
WHILE light-wing’d zephyrs waft each tender note,
Thine early energies, sweet bird, attune;
The harsh NIGHT-RAVEN opes his clamorous throat,
And screams, ill-omen’d, at the western moon.
While live those horrid discords, cease thy song,
Ah! cease, till silence hover o’er the vale,
Where the charm’d echoes shall thy strains prolong,
Till from the dawn swift flies the moon-beam pale.
Flies like the fairy dream of youthful joy,
Before the gloomy scoul of haggard CARE:
Were mine thy voice, sweet warbler, I’d employ
Its varied cadences to sooth DESPAIR.
Dark fiend of life—may his unhallow’d tread
Ne’er print the path in which I’m doom’d to go:
What tho’ the hours of vernal HOPE be fled,
May comforts still attend my days of woe.
Ev’n as the voice of MELODY is thine,
To chaunt the requiem of thy murder’d mate:
So be some tender consolation mine,
Thro’ all the dark severities of FATE.
Sweet warbler! raise once more the plaintive strain,
That swells in unison with ACHMED’s heart,
Long doom’d in suffering silence to remain,
Or only to the breeze its griefs impart.
Haply at times the breeze responsive sigh’d—
Methought I heard some sympathetic soul:
And as its low faint breathings gently died,
My heart scarce heaved, ’twas NATURE’s own controul.
Sweet warbler, how I love thy lonely lay,
How heav’nly-soothing ’midst th’ obscure of night,
That seems to linger on the verge of day,
Withheld by melancholy, soft delight.
Withheld like me, in magic circle bound,
Tho’ wearied nature claim the balm of rest,
All mute I stand upon th’ enchanted ground,
In the lorn spirit of thy wild notes blest.
Sweet warbler! cease not, close not yet the song,
Whose harmony delays the twilight hour:
’Till bright the MORN arise, its strains prolong,
The minstrels of the day shall own thy power;
While the glad vales their loveliest blooms disclose,
To greet the beauties of thy darling ROSE.
DEPENDANCE
ON THE
SUPREME BEING.
NATURE degenerates not; why then should MAN,
The boasted LORD of her terrestrial reign?
If sovereign WISDOM form’d the mystic plan,
Unchang’d its end, its order must remain.
If boundless LOVE embrace the wond’rous whole,
A work congenial to creative will:
Shall not all beings ranged from pole to pole,
The perfect FIAT of that LOVE fulfil?
The reptile crawling in his native clay,
The eagle soaring to the midway skies,
The dread Hyæna prowling fierce for prey,
The helpless Fawn to shun his rage that flies,
The lab’ring husbandman, the slothful lord
Feasting luxurious on the poor man’s toil,
The sordid wretch by gen’rous minds abhorr’d,
The sparkling diamond and its artful foil,
The dusky gloom of IGNORANCE, behold:
The imbecility of FOLLY’s train:
Sweet INNOCENCE more pure than virgin gold:
AMBITION restless as the billowy main.
Th’ intriguing statesman, wand’ring AFGHAN rude,
The pious MOSLEM, or the sensual JEW:
The exiled ACHMED here in solitude:
All equally the destined path pursue.
But to what end—is known to him alone,
Who rules supreme o’er Ocean, Earth, and Heav’n.
Should I repine—if thro’ the burning zone,
Or to the icy north my course were driv’n?
In HIM I live—by his behest I move;
His active energy my heart inspires:
I feel a portion of his heav’nly LOVE,
Expand my soul, and raise her native fires.
ETERNAL BEING! merciful as just!
With thy blest TRUTH illume my erring mind:
Teach it, IN THEE to place unbounded trust,
To leave the world and all its hopes behind.
With sweet CONTENT, O grant me here to dwell,
And bless the solitudes around my cell.
WHERE is the MAN who thus can nobly say?
I hail’d bright TRUTH in her eternal source;
Pursued her flight thro’ all the realms of day,
Nor ceased to follow her celestial course,
’Till that Almighty power, who rules the sphere,
Spread wide the mental night, and check’d my bold career.
If on this earth that man sublime there be,
That man, O lovely flower! resembles thee.
The breeze that wakens with the orient DAWN,
Scarce from thy bosom shakes the quiv’ring dew;
Scarce is the dusky veil of NIGHT withdrawn,
Ere thy fond eye expanding to the view,
With kindling rapture meets the golden gleam,
That now ascends the sky, now floats along the stream.
And when the burning blaze of summer NOON,
Darts from the midway heaven’s etherial height;
Thy daring eye, broad as the rising moon,
With transport gazes on the KING of LIGHT;
Tho’ all around thee droop the languid head,
And all the energies of life are fled.
And oft as EVENING sheds the dewy tear,
O’er the pale relics of departed day,
And in the blue expanse of Heaven, appear
The first faint gleams of many a starry ray,
Dost thou responsive to the zephyr’s sigh,
Mourn the past radiance of the western sky.
Thus, thus, may NATURE’s more than magic charm,
Attract for ever my admiring gaze;
Her purer dictates all my bosom warm,
And guide me far from SUPERSTITION’s maze.
Tho’ lost to yon vain world, may ACHMED prove
True to the last faint gleam of REASON, FAITH, and LOVE!
WAR.
‘O SACRED FIRE! O ever active FLAME!
Kindle my courage, but my FOE’s consume;
In smoke and ashes blend his hated name,
While round my head the flow’rs of conquest bloom.
‘Speed! speed! my shemshere,’ fierce BAHARAM
84 cried
I pant for battle as the wolf for prey;
And should the palm of VICTORY be denied,
Let me with HONOR die this fated day.’
Grant me sweet PEACE: th’ inglorious ACHMED craves,
I seek SERENITY and heav’nly LOVE:
Ne’er may MY efforts give untimely graves
To those that aid, or those that disapprove.
How swiftly flows the stream of human life,
Oft winding thro’ the glooms of GRIEF and CARE;
How agitated by the storms of STRIFE,
Dash’d from HOPE’s airy steep in cataracts of DESPAIR.
And can the restless mind of man devise,
Grateful to all the raging pow’rs of hell;
To offer up the dreadful sacrifice
Of human hearts—mid WAR’s infernal yell?
Oh! how I loathe the wretch whose scorpion soul
Inflicts those miseries on human kind;
Whom no soft ties of NATURE can controul,
Unfeeling as the rage of waves and wind.
Is there no charm in morning’s ruddy dawn,
Unless the evening ray be tinged with blood?
Is there no beauty in the verdant lawn?
In the smooth surface of the tranquil flood?
The murderous HAND is held ACCURSED of Heaven,
And can it bless the HEART that prompts the deed?
If OBEIDALLAH’s
85 guilt be unforgiven,
Shall impious YEZID’s pardon be decreed?
Inherent lust of CRUELTY alone,
Could ne’er perpetuate the tyrant mind;
No! see on ISMAEL’s
86 blood-establish’d throne,
HYPOCRISY—PRIDE—AVARICE combined.
From their dark scowl ev’n ENVY’s DEMON flies,
And all the VIRTUES seek their native skies!
TO
PEACE.
THE TRUMPET and the TEBEL’s
87 din, no more
Invade my slumbers, or my soul inspire,
To seek grim-visaged WAR, and stain’d with gore,
Join FURY’s yell, or light DESTRUCTION’s fire.
To banish PITY from my burning heart,
Pant with dire rage of Conquest and of Prey;
Defy the lifted shemshere and the dart,
While demons triumph in the deadly day.
No—Heaven-born PEACE, beneath thy sacred palm,
Far, far removed from all the strife of KINGS,
My deeply wounded heart imbibes that balm,
The soft breeze gently scatters from thy wings.
What haggard forms in murky mantles clad,
Have ris’n around, whilst memory mark’d each deed?
Torn with REMORSE, my soul, in anguish mad,
From dark thought starting, saw their war-wounds bleed.
Yet now, sweet PEACE! those terrors disappear:
I feel the beam of MERCY’s mildest ray
Dispel those glooms, my sinking spirits cheer,
And light them into thy fair dawn of day.
With thee, ’tis HEAVEN, in this lone cave to dwell,
A throne without thee is a pledge of HELL!
VIRTUE AND RESIGNATION.
THE few who bravely and sublimely dare,
To act the part thro’ life that DUTY claims,
Who stand aloof from bland ALLUREMENT’s snare,
And bend their souls to no ignoble aims.
Seek not from FORTUNE’s cloud the golden shower,
Mingled with Widows’ tears and Orphans’ blood;
Feel no AMBITION in the blaze of power,
But that of being truly WISE and GOOD:
Crouch not with ADULATION’s courtly band,
To SULTAN pride, or VIZIER’s dangerous sway,
That, whilst it taints the heart, impels the hand,
With dragon grasp to guard its golden prey.
Nor will the faithful MOSLEM’s tongue restrain
The voice of warning from a SULTAN’s ear;
Nor cease to thunder on the minion train,
Those awful truths OPPRESSORS dread to hear.
But if invested with the SOVEREIGN sword,
Fearing th’ Almighty JUDGE of earth and Heaven,
He shall behold THE RULE OF RIGHT restored,
And from his courts the base, the venal, driven.
Driven like the waves when MOSES raised his rod,
And wide disparting, roar’d the MESREAN flood:
88
Driven like the impious, when the hand of GOD
Smote MOSEILAMA
89 in the vale of blood.
Thus acted ALI,
90 friend of the Most High,
And thus pure HOSAIN,
91 whose lamented death
Draws still the tear from heavenly VIRTUE’s eye,
And claims the sigh of PITY’s gentlest breath.
Of such the PROPHET
92 spoke when thus he said:
To GOD’s high will I wholly am resign’d,
With all who have his sacred LAW obey’d,
True as the arrow pointed with the wind.
‘Ask those who now in purity of heart,
His written precepts own and understand.
Ask those who in that knowledge bear no part,
Far from ARABIA’s happy, favour’d land.
‘Ask them—if they resign their selves to GOD?
Those who in truth affirmative reply,
Follow the path, sweet PEACE, to thine abode,
Serene thro’ life as EDEN’s cloudless sky.
‘His MERCY boundless as his LOVE divine,
Shall from their hearts remove each peccant stain,
His radiant WISDOM in their bosoms shine,
And his OMNIPOTENCE their strength sustain.
‘Ev’n in the night of ENVY’s darkest hate
Of all that rises eminently good;
Ev’n in the moment when the hand of FATE
Waves the keen sabre raised to shed their blood,
‘Shall RESIGNATION calm each mortal fear,
Repress the sigh, restrain the parting tear.’
NATURE
ALONE CAN LEAD TO TRUE DELIGHT.
TO notes of joy my LUTE was lightly strung,
When PLEASURE led me thro’ the bowers of YOUTH:
Beside my path the blooms of FANCY sprung,
While fairy phantoms veil’d the face of TRUTH.
Accustom’d fleeting shadows to pursue,
How painful ’tis to face the rising ray;
Yet, by degrees th’ intellectual view,
With eagle eye enjoys the blaze of day.
Where’er, O MAN! thou may’st sojourn, or rove
By streams where cool and balmy breezes blow,
O’er rugged hills, or thro’ the darkling grove,
Or in parch’d deserts meet the sultry glow.
Let NATURE’s charms attract thy wand’ring eye,
Her simple voice, persuasive, gain thine ear,
She reigns around thee, as she beams on high,
And guides the planets through the rolling sphere.
From her pure LAWS creation never strays:
In this the tyger and the lamb unite;
The falcon owns them, as the dove obeys;
The scowling tempest, and the orient light.
Shall MAN—vain MAN, presume with impious aim
To raise himself on ART’s fantastic throne;
To powers exclusive urge his boastful claim,
Burst from Creation’s bonds, and act alone?
Self-starting from its base, with equal ease,
Yon rugged mountain might in air ascend,
Traverse the plain, or float upon the seas,
As MAN to more than mortal powers pretend.
Yet, mortal powers, perverted from that aim
For which they surely were by Heaven design’d,
By FORCE, and FRAUD, and SUPERSTITION, claim
The right of tyrannizing o’er mankind.
Ye gloomy DESPOTS, gorged with human blood!
Ye foes to virtue, innocence, and truth!
Whose pageant influence, hard to be withstood,
Sway’d the lost moments of my giddy youth.
Why does one thought of those delusions dwell,
With your detested memory on my mind:
But that the comforts of this savage cell
O’erbalance all AMBITION yet could find?
Mine is that FREEDOM which you would destroy;
Mine is that PEACE you never can enjoy:
By NATURE’s bounty are my wants supplied;
GOD’s PROVIDENCE my guard, his INBORN LAW my guide.
ADVERSITY.
WHY do thine hours, thy days, thy years, O TIME!
Unmark’d, in silent, swift, succession fly,
Blest as the bloomy SPRING of youthful prime,
Bright as the love-fraught glance of BEAUTY’s eye?
Why fade not NATURE’s charms in ACHMED’s sight?
Why do the Heavens still smile serenely fair?
Why fail’d the gloom-clouds of AFFLICTION’s night,
To shroud his solitude in dark DESPAIR?
Children of dust! your cares, your sorrows flow,
Like troubled fountains, from a soil impure;
Tinged in their native bed, they ne’er forego
A taint that must thro’ all their course endure.
Winding thro’ shades impervious to the day,
They add dire increase to the stagnant fen,
From whence black PESTILENCE oft takes her way,
On sluggish wing, to blast the haunts of men.
Like her foul train, what fury passions rise
In every form that can distract the soul:
Even in the bosoms of the good and wise,
LOVE, TRUTH, and REASON, dread their fierce controul.
The sun of FORTUNE,
93 SLOTH’s seductive calm,
With VICE’s locust squadrons, lend their aid,
To spread those noxious powers no earthly balm
Can conquer, where their influence is convey’d.
WEALTH ask thy vot’ries, POWER thy giant arm
That wields at once the sceptre and the sword.
Do you possess the talismanic charm,
That makes EXISTENCE, like her GOD, adored?
NATURE admired and loved?—Her joys invite?
And all her gifts throughout their wide increase,
Bloom like the TREE of temperate delight,
Whose root’s CONTENTMENT, and whose fruit is PEACE?
Know, that deluded by the world’s false love,
AMBITION’s wild chimeras, FORTUNE’s toys,
The captive mind, in their enchanted grove
Shall only find A DEMON that destroys.
O blest ADVERSITY! to thy stern power
I owe that FREEDOM which I here possess,
That heartfelt joy which brightens every hour,
With the mild beam of mental happiness.
HEALTH’s balmy breeze breathes round my lone abode,
And all things speak the presence of their GOD.
TO THE
EVENING STAR.
HAIL! beauteous PLANET, whose unrivall’d ray
Smiles all benignant thro’ the early NIGHT,
To me, more grateful than the orb of DAY,
Crown’d with the glories of celestial light.
Like those, thy splendors beaming on the eye
Of antient SAGES,
94 taught them to adore
The awful—sacred symbols, placed on high,
Of MYSTIC POWER, that they could ne’er explore.
O whilst that mystic power my heart sustains,
And warms my soul, enraptured with the thought;
The proudest prince in ASIA’s rich domains,
His pomp, his armies, vanish into nought.
Such shadowy forms fantastic, seem to glide,
Clad in dim vapour, by the winding stream:
While NATURE mourns at eve her flowery pride,
Lost like the phantoms of a transient dream.
The transient dreams of RICHES, RANK, and POWER,
With all the varied JOYS that mortals know,
Droop sadly pensive, like the faded flower,
When adverse FORTUNE clouds her angry brow.
Yet, HEAVEN, in mercy to each suffering soul,
Soothes with the balm of PATIENCE every grief,
Bids PASSION yield to REASON’s calm controul,
And each wing’d moment waft some kind relief.
For such the fabric of th’ immortal mind,
We cease to weep those ills that long endure;
Long absent blessings faint remembrance find,
And long past pleasures scarce our hearts allure.
Ev’n ’mid these rocks and savage haunts, alone,
Reckless of danger, void of every fear,
I claim the hours of rising NIGHT my own,
And chide the moments of their swift career.
O lovely STAR! in thy fair form I view
Sweet CONSOLATION, robed in light divine.
My languid pow’rs of life, if HEAVEN renew,
Mild as thy first-born beam, shall PEACE be mine.
TO THE
LAMP.
SWEET solace of the dark and dreary hour,
When active mind eludes the bond of sleep;
When brooding MEMORY would exert her power,
To make FATE’s victim mournful vigils keep.
Blest was the night, when from her leafy throne,
The wandering GLOW-WORM gave the hint of thee,
Yielding a joy to ACHMED long unknown,
A new delight to HEALTH and LIBERTY.
This wild recess by ART commodious made,
Secured from damps, and screen’d from wintry wind,
Ev’n noon-day radiance would in vain pervade,
Yet MIDNIGHT, smiling, throws her glooms behind.
In vain her shadowy train to caverns fly,
Whilst beams around the MOON’s mild cheerful light:
More clear, more lovely, beams thy lucid eye
To me, than all the lustrous orbs of night.
No more the hideous bat, on fiend-like wing,
Shall hold with cries obscene his orgies here;
No more the bird of night his dirges sing,
To demon powers, or scream on ACHMED’s ear.
In beetled forms those demon powers, no more
With ceaseless whirl shall break my calm repose,
Nor, darkling to my anguish’d soul restore
The direful register of distant woes.
Ye sluggish hours, oppress’d with wintry gloom,
’Mid your chill horrors sinks the languid frame:
Deep throbs the heart, as tho’ impending doom
Hung in dank vapour o’er my vital flame.
Such often was the lonely exile’s state,
Ere heaven-born PEACE could soothe his soul to rest;
Ere thy bright presence thus could compensate
The loss of many a joy his youth possest.
For ah! one comfort in the hour of ill,
One soothing FRIEND when FORTUNE adverse proves,
Beside this grot, the pure, tho’ scanty rill,
Outweighs the world’s false smile, its joys, and loves.
Here might the idly great, abash’d, survey
Of needful industry th’ untutor’d skill,
The rush work curtain, and the slender spray,
Rudely entwined, but use-directed still.
There might they see the wicker-woven door
Closing the entrance of my inmost cell;
The moss-form’d bed, the smooth-compacted floor,
Where LUXURY’s self might inly sigh to dwell.
There, often too, thy rays, blest LAMP! diffuse
Their cheering influence thro’ the wakeful night,
Nor will the soothing power of sleep refuse
To smile complacent on thy sober light.
Ne’er may the wintry gust’s unhallow’d breath
Consign thy transient beam to darkness and to death.
THE
PURSUITS OF MAN.
POOR human life—perplex’d and painful span!
Tired, we exclaim, yet dread the hour of death,
Lament the evils of unhappy man,
Yet struggling, strive to gain a moment’s breath.
Breath! for what end?—To lengthen MISERY’s date
To grasp at false delights, that end in woe?
Opposing sickly HOPE to certain FATE,
That mocks our efforts to elude the blow?
Mark those who combat in the fields of FAME;
View those that aim at titles, wealth, and power:
Or those who feel, fond LOVE! thy gentle flame,
And seek soft transports in the nuptial bower.
Those who aspire to gain the praise of ART,
To guide the pencil, NATURE’s charms pourtray,
Employ the pen, truth, sciences, impart,
Or on poetic pinions wing their way.
Whate’er the OBJECT, still th’ attentive mind
This only difference learns in the event,
The MANY ceaseless seek, but never find,
The envied FEW that find—are not content!
THE
LOVE OF NATURE.
NOW the grey dawn along the eastern sky,
Faintly begins to light th’ horizon round;
Dark gloom the woods, and mountain rocks on high,
While all below forms one vast shade profound.
Silence—deep silence reigns, ev’n sleeps the breeze,
That wakening soon, shall rise on misty wing;
And o’er the waving foliage of the trees,
Breathe the mild spirit of the bloomy SPRING.
Earnest of joys unnumber’d, rising round
My peaceful dwelling: let not man deride
Those joys of simple NATURE, that abound
Far from FAME’s votaries and the haunts of Pride.
And sure the more remote, the happier still;
If HAPPINESS on earth will deign to dwell,
Pure as the waters of the mountain rill,
Calm as CONTENTMENT sits in yonder cell.
O NATURE, how I love thee! ACHMED cries,
As the wild scenery discloses round:
‘I love thee!’ hark! a faultering voice replies,
The lonely EXILE startles at the sound.
As when soft MUSIC vibrates from the string,
And thro’ the air melodious accents float:
Some kindred lute, some silver vase shall ring
In UNISON, and die as dies the note.
Speaks not some guardian SPIRIT from the rock,
To tell thee—‘ACHMED walks not here alone?
Or does the sportive echo idly mock
A heartfelt sentiment too rarely known?
Yes—NATURE, much I love thee, and that love
Shall live, while life sustains my heaving heart;
And tho’ pure bliss be only found above,
To gain that bliss, from thee I dare not part.
For I DO love thee! Every gladsome morn,
Each tranquil eve—and thro’ the gliding day,
Thy beauties more attractive charms adorn,
And o’er the guileless heart confirm thy sway.
A sway more strong than SULTAN yet could boast;
For whilst it claims the hand, it holds the heart;
More potent, than all AYRAN’s mighty host,
That wield the scimetar or point the dart.
Dire was the wretch, th’ infuriate wretch, who first
Raised the keen sword against his fellow man;
As the fell tyger loves to quench his thirst,
At life’s warm fountain—such the ruthless KHAN.
From such I flee—for such my soul abhors!
I’ve fought, I’ve conquer’d in youth’s feverish reign.
I’ve bled in battle, and with deep remorse,
Year after year, bewail’d the brave men slain.
And if contrition can for guilt atone,
For victims slaughter’d at AMBITION’s call,
Ye MIGHTY of the EARTH! your crimes bemoan,
At whose behest unnumber’d thousands fall.
Learn—learn to think as MEN, as MEN to feel,
And acting as the guardians of mankind;
Exert your powers to sheathe the reeking steel,
And rude CONTENTION yield to waves and wind.
So may th’ ETERNAL BEING, ever blest,
Most merciful to those that MERCY show;
Reward your labors with that peace and rest,
In PARADISE—you meant for MAN below.
But lo! the SUN in dazzling glory, rears
His golden orb above the orient-hills;
While all illumed each mountain head appears,
What dusky shade the woodland valley fills.
While sport the wild goats on the craggy steep,
And many a mountain warbler tunes his song;
Dim, misty, vapours, o’er the low-lands creep,
And darkling glides the little stream along.
Yet, by degrees, th’ obscuring mists shall fly,
Till all the lovely landscape stand reveal’d,
And while ten thousand beauties charm the eye,
Be not th’ emotions of the soul conceal’d?
No! ’tis impossible—for pure and free,
O SUN of NATURE! they arise with thee.
ASTEKHER.
WITH moss hung shaggy, stands the shatter’d pine,
While waves the willow o’er the falling stream;
With vines embower’d, th’ arching rock is mine,
Where zephyr flies, to shun the sultry beam.
And sooth’d by wild notes floating on the breeze,
From hence, I view the broken prospects round;
Here opening fair—there half obscured by trees,
Whose long and bending branches meet the ground.
The ARJVAN
95 blushful, and the JASMIN
96 sweet,
That owe their stations here to ACHMED’s hand;
With many a flow’ret blooming at their feet,
The wild heath mingling as tho’ NATURE plann’d.
Yes, ACHMED! she, the fair instructress, claims
O’er all this rude domain a fostering care:
She forms thy fancy, she improves thy aims,
And when false ART prevails, she cries ‘forbear.’
Then, sure, to violate her high behest,
Were to profane the love of BEAUTY’s charms;
Were to repel, ungrateful! from thy breast,
Each hope that animates, each joy that warms.
The joys of sweet simplicity and truth,
That like th’ etherial Heavens, will ne’er decay:
But ever blooming—in eternal youth
Survive the frailty of this frame of clay.
Now sinks the SUN: yet glows the welkin clear,
Tho’ wide spread clouds hang hovering on high:
Clad in grey haze the distant wilds appear,
Till in faint azure they elude the eye.
How widely different from the sullen gloom,
That scowling ushers in the wintry night:
Dark, dismal, as the caverns of the tomb,
Compar’d with youth’s gay spring of warm delight.
Yet, tho’ full many of those long nights drear,
Have closed poor ACHMED in his lone retreat;
While haply brooding o’er his lot severe,
TEMPTATION spoke the language of deceit:
Bade him with morn arise, and smile farewel,
To cheerless solitude—the world regain,
And nothing fearing of old foes, dispel
Seclusive principles, with all their train.
As oft, methought, a voice that spoke within,
Cried sternly, ‘ACHMED learn thy soul to prize:
FATE led thee hither, from a world of SIN,
Of SORROW, and of SORDID SACRIFICE.
‘Thy Vows forget not, lest the guardian power
That heard the solemn pledge, abandon thee;
For know if thou return to MAN, that hour
Shall blast thy HEALTH, thy PEACE, thy LIBERTY.
Long strove calm REASON, ere the stubborn heart
Could well resign its loves, its hopes, its fears;
Ere habitudes of LUXURY would depart;
Ere sad EXPERIENCE was matured by years.
Ere simple NATURE had obtain’d her sway,
And heav’nly PROVIDENCE in all appear’d;
Ere sheltering groves had risen from the spray,
By ACHMED’s long-continued care uprear’d.
And as they rose, AFFECTION with them grew,
As for a babe long nurtured on the knee;
AFFECTION follow’d, for the region too,
Where Freedom dwells with sweet Tranquillity.
For mental conflicts now no more obtain
Discordant power, amid these peaceful seats;
ASTEKHER’s fallen domes shall rise again,
Ere ACHMED freely quit these loved retreats.
All potent TIME, whose widely wasting hand,
Has laid ASTEKHER’s
80 loftiest turrets low;
Tho’ still her palaces thy might withstand,
Their massy columns dread th’ impending blow.
Unnumber’d SPIRITS, as tradition tells,
Ceaseless defend the old PEHLEVIAN wall;
Where DEVASTATION, bound by magic spells,
Shall ne’er prevail till AYRAN’s empire fall.
If yet one wand’ring wish could tempt to stray
From these dear shades, it were to rove awhile
’Mid those stupendous RUINS, and survey
The deep recesses of each antique pile:
With ghosts of ancient bards and heroes mourn
The lapse of ages never to return.
THE
FLOATING SUN-BEAMS.
THE tranquil water’s glassy surface glows
With all the splendors of the morning sky,
Where lightly-hovering clouds their tints disclose,
In soften’d beauty to the wand’rer’s eye:
Yet, brighter far, yon orb, whose parent ray
Yields all the lustre that adorns the day.
While thus I view the glad creation round,
Each moment some attractive charm supplies,
Warbles delight in every tuneful sound,
And odoriferous balms around me rise;
For here, the first-born fragrance of the vale,
Floats o’er the flowers that still new sweets exhale.
Lured by the love of NATURE’s vernal charms,
I rove—delighted—lost to all beside:
Ev’n FANCY’s fire no more my bosom warms,
And fled each thought to REASON’s power allied.
Exterior beauties crowd upon my soul,
Raise her to joy, and all her powers controul!
But when, O gracious ALLAH! when to thee
On wings of holy FAITH my thoughts aspire,
Swift from my raptured soul tumultuous flee
The brief delights those circling charms inspire:
EARTH—SKIES—dissolve, the SUN himself decays,
Lost in thy GLORY’s uncreated rays!
TO THE
KIDS.
YE wanton KIDS that browse beside my bowers,
Sportive companions of my vacant hours,
That joyful follow where I love to stray,
That, doubly sweet, receive from ACHMED’s hand
The dewy branch, bedeck’d with flow’rets bland,
Breathing the fragrance of the new-born day.
Here, in assured tranquillity repose,
Here, dreadless of the fierce and hungry foes,
That o’er yon crags impel your sires to bound,
Or prowling thro th’ obscure of night, obtain
An aid that fearful vigilance in vain
Strives to elude:—but this is hallow’d ground.
Here but one steepy avenue remains,
By careful toil secured—this, ART maintains
With barriers that the WOLF’s approach defy:
The tender herbage then without a fear,
The fragrant thyme, the low-hung branches, here
Browse gaily—till obscures the evening sky.
Then shall the rock beside mine own retreat,
Yield to your slumbering hours a cavern’d seat,
A fold enshelter’d from the nightly dews:
There, while fierce whirlwinds o’er the desert sweep,
Or tempests rage around the lofty steep,
Shall sweet security a calm diffuse.
How blest the calm that ACHMED has enjoy’d,
A calm of PASSIONS, not that cheerless void
Which can at times absorb the sensual mind,
That from false friends and froward fortune gains
The respite of distaste—yet bears the chains
That unregenerate men ne’er leave behind.
Such will not, uncompell’d, these mountains range,
Nor quitting scenes of discord, seek to change
Their turbulence and cares for silent peace.
The greedy of the WORLD will far away
With POWER’s heaven-spurning vot’ries pass their day,
Where splendid wretchedness may find increase.
But why to you, sweet innocents! of these,
Of their dark councils, and detested ways,
That to the shrieking shades of ZACOUM
97 lead?
You ne’er saw cruelty without remorse
Exulting o’er a virtuous victim’s corse,
Mangled by treachery’s dirk—while Princes praised the deed.
With ACHMED, here remote from guile and crime,
’Mid rocks and woods—where NATURE reigns sublime,
And bloom the beauties of the lovely spring,
In harmless gay delight you pass your hours,
’Mid aromatic herbs and heathy flowers,
And where mild zephyr roves on wanton wing.
Blithe children of my care, whene’er I view
Your gambols, all my youthful hours renew.
THE
ADVANCES OF AGE.
THE wither’d leaves that float adown the stream,
Scarce tinge its surface with their yellow hue,
Now faintly glimmer with the morning beam,
Then sinking—vanish from my transient view.
Lured by the promised joys of vernal youth,
They burst their gems to court the smile of day,
Matured beneath that smile, the cank’ring tooth
Of some base reptile works their swift decay.
Or, if perchance, succeeding SUNS behold
Their wings wave lightly to the sportive breeze,
Ere AUTUMN’s varying vesture change to gold,
The rude gale tears them from their parent trees.
Yon parent tree before the rising storm
Bends his wild branches to elude the blast,
Tho’ whirlwind rage his tortured limbs deform,
Yet stands unrent his lonely trunk at last.
Thus bloom’d the hope-buds of mine early hours,
Thus frequent fell the prey of insect art:
Or, haply, when increasing manhood’s powers,
Cherish’d some darling vision of the heart.
While FORTUNE pointed with her golden wand
To fairy forms of bliss—gay hovering round,
Lo! FATE descending, scourged with hasty hand,
The sportive phantoms into shades profound.
Tore me from all my heart had deem’d secure,
Tore me from fortune, friends, and native clime:
Torn from my love, he bade my soul endure
A grief that scorn’d the conquering power of TIME.
Scorn’d, but in vain—TIME’s lenient voice prevail’d,
Whispering sweet peace, and charm’d my lonely way,
And while the languid powers of REASON fail’d,
Tormenting MEMORY hasten’d to decay.
Like the fall’n leaves that floated down the stream,
Past sorrows rise to momentary view,
Catch oft from FANCY’s light a wand’ring beam,
Then sinking, bid the mind a dark adieu!
No more I feel the poignancy of wrongs
Which youthful SENSIBILITY endures:
IMPATIENCE now no more my grief prolongs,
Nor painted HOPE my steadier thought allures.
As rest to labour—peace succeeds to strife:
When sinks the storm, the raging waves subside:
Thus undisturb’d my tranquil eve of life
Into an azure twilight seems to glide.
No threat’ning clouds o’erhang my closing day,
But friendly PLANETS shed their mildest ray.
TO
HOPE.
HOPE! thou false inmate of the human breast,
Delusive charm, enchanting souls from rest,
Why wilt thou strive to gain admittance here,
Where FORTITUDE has made the rock her seat?
Why with thy trembling sociate, coward FEAR,
Seek to invade this calm tho’ rude retreat?
Why your vain influence o’er my heart combine,
Like morning dews on yonder blasted pine?
Here worldly wishes long have ceased to rove;
But, like the breeze that met the orient ray,
And ’mid the noon-day fervors fann’d the grove,
With evening’s faded lustre, died away.
HOPE! ere again on me thou triest thy power,
Bid moon-beams raise to bloom the wither’d flower.
Shall RESIGNATION gaze on rainbow glare?
Shall wearied THOUGHT on FANCY’s pinions fly
To scenes of mimic joy where griffon care
Glotes on her victims with distorted eye,
And restless fiends of strife in ambush lie?
HOPE! when thy beams illume MISFORTUNE’s cave,
Bid the pale SPECTRE triumph o’er the GRAVE.
THE
BATTLE.
WHAT mean those deep’ning shouts that rend the sky,
Join’d with the yell of ANGUISH and DISMAY:
Loud peals of thunder that approach so nigh,
And clouds of smoke that veil the face of day?
At the shrill blasting of the BOUKZAN’s
98 breath,
Lo! the fierce OUZBEK rushes to the plain,
Where ASMOUGH
101 wields the scimetar of DEATH,
And RAPINE riots o’er the mangled slain.
Alternate RAGE and TERROR rule each band,
As savage FURY floats the field with gore;
DESTRUCTION wildly waves her blazing brand,
And red with carnage, wolf-like, howls for more.
When sinks the sun beyond the CASPIAN main,
And HORROR hails the gloomy fiend of night;
Sad—sullen BONDAGE clanks his iron chain,
And wandering spirits claim the funeral rite.
For deeds like these shall endless praises flow?
Shall blood-stain’d VICTORY swell the trump of FAME,
Has GLORY placed her TAJE on TIMOUR’s
99 brow,
And join’d ‘immortal’ to KHAN ZINGI’s
100 name?
GOD of the just! O let me ne’er repine,
Or, while those glaring meteors strike my view,
Heave the deep sigh—wish impiously to shine,
And bid this calm, this blest retreat adieu!
Ah! what avails the splendid pomp of state,
The boast of RICHES, or imperial sway;
While on the restless bosoms of the great
Beams not CONTENT her mild, celestial ray?
Far from heart-hard’ning scenes of public strife,
Far from AMBITION’s call, and fields of blood,
She walks with PEACE the vale of humble life,
And smiles serenely on the WISE and GOOD.
THE
ALARM.
FROM whence?—what art thou?—ghastly SPECTRE! say.
Why glooms that visage on my twilight view?
Does FATE presageful hither guide thy way,
And bid dark VENGEANCE here my soul pursue?
That SHEMSHERE gleaming by the moon’s pale light?
Those faltering steps that would my cave explore?
That groan deep wounding the repose of night?
And why appear those limbs distain’d with gore?
Does magic art by demon power constrain
Thine airy image to some dire intent?
Or, fever’d FANCY form within my brain
Distemper’d phantoms only to torment?
The tyger, the hyæna, here might rove,
As darkling o’er the wilds for prey they prowl,
For oft along th’ impending rocks above,
The echoes tremble with their midnight howl.
But thus remote from all the haunts of men,
And where no motives can induce to stray,
What mortal being would approach this den,
Freely and dreadless in the face of day?
Scarce at the noon-tide hour could FATE’s decree
Here lead me by the guidance of DESPAIR,
When these sequester’d glooms first shelter’d me,
The child of SORROW, and MISFORTUNE’s heir.
A LION’s headlong fury to elude,
Drove me to scale the rugged rocks beneath;
And plunged amid this darkling solitude,
I sought a refuge from the jaws of death.
But DANGER dwelt here.—With tremendous roar,
And sullen step, advanced the savage foe:
Wildly impell’d, a ponderous stone I bore,
Heaven gave me fortitude, and sped the blow.
Tho’ down yon broken steep the LION fell,
Torn in his fall, blood-wet with many a wound,
With wilder rage and agonizing yell,
Recovering soon, he climb’d the craggy mound:
This sword received him, and the monster died.
Now say, if MAN thou art—what leads thee here?
‘A MAN I am,’—the DREARY FORM replied,
‘Long lost to HOPE, and now estranged to FEAR.
‘Know, bold possessor of this lonely cave,
No base designs induce me here to roam:
Wounded in fight the hand of help I crave,
Far from my friends and from my native home.
‘But why of friends or native home to thee,
Who mournst, perchance, thine own as dearly loved,
As long, as sadly lost, as mine to me,
As much regretted, and as far removed?
‘In sympathy I share thy bosom’s grief,
Ah! could I feel resign’d, such comforts too,
For know, thy prayers, ere thus I sought relief,
I heard with wonder, as to Heaven they flew.
‘And sure, who seeks for MERCY from on high,
And craves with pious prayer the aid of HEAVEN,
Will not a hapless wand’rer’s suit deny,
Deep wounded—famish’d—o’er the desert driven.’
Enough, afflicted stranger! ACHMED said.
Tho’ rooted from the garden of mankind,
I yet can hear the voice of NATURE plead,
And speak soft comfort to the wounded mind.
Approach then, fearless SOLDIER, and partake
Of such refreshments as these wilds bestow,
Herbs from the glen, and berries from the brake,
With purest water from the spring below.
This forest too shall yield a kindly balm
Of power to sooth thy wound’s afflictive smart;
And haply here RETIREMENT’s genial calm
May shed it’s influence o’er a troubled heart.
The MOON all lovely, from her clouded veil
Soft-gliding, lifts her silvery lamp on high,
The little STARS their twinkling rays conceal,
And to their dens the powers of darkness fly.
So, when the beams of heavenly comfort shine,
Life’s fairy visions faintly glide away;
The train of ANGUISH fly her light divine,
That yields the faithful soul eternal day.
Now NATURE claims (each sorrowing sigh supprest)
Her due refreshment and the hour of rest.
To-morrow’s morn shall ampler time bestow,
To speak those truths we each desire to know.
TO THE
STRANGER.
IS then this tranquil life so irksome grown?
Are these sweet SOLITUDES devoid of charms,
And is fair NATURE form’d for ME alone?
For still HER LOVE my aged bosom warms.
As when in active youth I fondly stray’d
By ABI-KOURA
45 or the CASPIAN shore,
With rapture her romantic mien survey’d,
And all her hues of beauty o’er and o’er:
Felt the mild sway of her attractive power,
To soothe, refine, and harmonize the heart,
To waft delight with every winged hour,
With every changing scene new joys impart.
O had those scenes of simple joy remain’d,
Present, as now in retrospective view,
Had MEMORY thro’ my riper years retain’d
The traits of NATURE, YOUTH’s wild pencil drew.
Then had not dreams of unsubstantial bliss
Display’d their dazzling veil before my sight,
Nor LUXURY’s spell enchain’d, nor serpent hiss
Of ENVY’s demon, changed my noon to night.
A long tempestuous night, whose hollow blast
Raised into billowy rage my anguish’d soul,
Presaging future wrongs to crown the past,
Indignantly I spurn’d at base controul;
Spurn’d at the bonds, the maxims that enslave
To abject views, the free, the generous mind,
Disdaining dark REVENGE, resolved to brave
The dangerous desert, and abjure mankind.
’Twas then, resign’d to HEAVEN, I sought REPOSE,
And here, with LIBERTY, REPOSE I found;
With every rising morn new comforts rose,
Each day fair NATURE lovelier smiled around,
And smiled within, and gently whisper’d PEACE:
Calm REASON heard her voice with mild assent,
And bade the tumult of the passions cease,
While health and temperance led to sweet CONTENT.
And here I hourly bless the heavenly hand,
That led thro’ yon lorn wilds my lonely way,
Preserved me from the TARTAR’s wandering band,
And from night-prowling savage beasts of prey.
That, when AMBITION, ENVY, SENSUAL LOVE,
Had triumph’d over GRATITUDE awhile,
Bade a dark miscreant and his sociates prove
The just reward of VIOLENCE and GUILE.
For vainly MAN, or FIENDS infernal, strive
To strike the blow that PROVIDENCE disowns,
In vain would FORCE effect, or ART contrive
To crush an insect, or perpetuate thrones.
A wond’rous chain of causes and effects
Combines mute nature, animals, and man,
Whether the being’s passive, or reflects,
Or acts instinctive, in the mighty plan.
That chain, depending from the throne divine,
Can ne’er be broken by created force:
While pure intention of the heart is thine,
No act that follows will disgrace its source.
Thy woes have risen from thy FATHER’s crime,
And I, his earlier VICTIM, pity thee:
O may the gently-soothing hand of TIME
Pour o’er thy griefs the balm that comforts me.
HE is no more, and SELIMA is blest,
Since Heaven in MERCY claim’d HER as its own:
That world of charms his treachery possest,
Delusive HOPE long pictured mine alone.
Depart in peace, and with my last FAREWEL
Receive the counsel of experienced years:
PRIDE, AVARICE, LUXURY, from thy breast expel,
Or THEY will guide thee to the fount of tears.
Let not th’ atrocious deeds of demon POWER
Produce malignant influence on thy mind,
But imitate th’ autumnal cloud, whose shower
Revives the plain where thirsty suns have shined.
Thou art the child of HER in LIFE adored,
And still in DEATH remember’d with a sigh;
Thou art the offspring of A MAN ABHORR’D
Whose memory often clouds my mental eye!
Yet learn this truth, from his once deadly foe
I felt more pleasure here to shield his son,
Than he, AMBITION’s votary, could forego,
When his career of short-lived power was run.
Henceforth, his NAME in dark oblivion rest,
No more remembrance bid his actions live,
But may th’ all-merciful and ever-blest
Forgive his frailties as I now forgive!
To thee these tranquil scenes no solace yield,
Nor seem my words congenial to thine ear;
That ordent spirit seeks a different field,
For PEACE and NATURE only, harbour here.
To ME yon spreading CEDAR’s friendly shade,
Yields more delight in SUMMER’s sultry hour,
Than erst the pomp of grandeur’s vain parade,
Than all the dazzling charms of wealth and power.
O’er broken rocks I love to climb the steep,
And trace thro’ those wild glens the winding way
O’erhung with gloomy pines, whose shadows deep,
Almost exclude the living light of day.
Gain some rude prominence—thence widely view
The varied prospect of the wilds below,
Or DISTANCE fading to etherial blue,
While nearer mountains catch the evening glow.
Hear oft, delighted, at the close of day,
The little warbler’s briefly-broken song,
’Till the sweet nightingale assume the lay,
Whose notes soft echoes from the rocks prolong.
And oft the azure arch of heaven survey,
When silent night advances calm and clear,
Trace thro’ its signs the planetary way,
And various aspects of the changeful year.
As roll the stars around the radiant pole,
I contemplate THE POWER that gave them birth,
And gives expansion to the free-born soul,
To raise its views above this little earth.
On FANCY’s wing with lightning swiftness fly
Thro’ all the regions of etherial space,
Mix with the happy spirits of the sky,
And o’er the clouds the blazing meteors chace.
These are delights to which thou wilt not soar;
In the closed HARAM see soft pleasures reign,
Seek COURTLY interest, FORTUNE’s golden store,
Or rush to CONQUEST o’er the bloody plain.
Win FLATTERY’s FAVOR, and aspire to FAME,
Ascend the dangerous pinnacle of POWER,
Let pompous titles supercede thy name,
Nor heed the threat’ning storms that o’er thee lower.
When YOUTH retires, when FORTUNE adverse proves,
And gloomy CARE thine every hope invades;
Perhaps remembrance of these silent groves
May lead thy footsteps oft to lonely shades.
May lead thee far—induce thee here to stray,
And seek old ACHMED in his calm abode;
His voice shall cheer thee, kindly bid thee stay,
And strive to lighten thy oppressive load.
Or if, since FATE relentless reigns o’er all,
And soon or late will claim our fleeting breath,
Should ACHMED hear the blest angelic call,
And this dear cell become the cave of DEATH.
If then the sigh of SORROW heave thy breast,
Or tear of tender PITY mourn my doom,
Form HERE my grave, HERE let my relics rest,
’Tis all I ask from MAN—a simple TOMB.
THE
ALLEGORY.
IN long and painful silence, have my thoughts,
My pensive thoughts, revolved from day to day,
From year to year. Ev’n now, by MEMORY led,
An ever-active circling course they run
Around the central point of human life,
Where sad EXPERIENCE, laden with the gleanings,
Abundant gleanings, of that various harvest
Mown by the hand of TIME, deems herself rich
In wisdom and in knowledge: thence presumes,
With countenance austere, to cast a gloom
Athwart the smile of HOPE; or, with a voice
Formed to the trembling accents of distrust,
Recals, with harsh rebuke’s sententious lore,
The lovely wand’rer from that fair expanse
Thro’ which she wont to roam on vagrant wing,
Catching far-distant views of FAIRY LAND,
Romantically beauteous; or, from meads
Of more than vernal loveliness, where blooms
A mimic EDEN; and the roving eye
Along the smooth but swiftly-gliding stream,
Expatiates unwearied:—many a form
Of magical illusion, from the surface
Apparently reflected, but from objects
As unsubstantial as the forms that float
Upon the wat’ry mirror.—Here awhile,
’Mid the gay bow’rs of youth, I fondly stray’d,
And cull’d the flowers of FANCY, for they grew
In fair luxuriance.—HOPE with airy step
Still led me on thro’ mazes of DELIGHT;
And as the zephyr gently-sportive play’d
Amid the quivering foliage, that o’erhung
Our devious path, sequester’d from the eye
Of prying CURIOSITY, and all
The sick’ning tribe of ENVY, or the sons
Of soul-corroding CARE. Along the grove
Acrial notes of harmony divine
Dwelt on the ear enraptured, for awhile
In low vibration, then, with gentlest swell
Flow’d on the breeze, or on its bosom died
Amid the fragrance of a thousand balms,
Stol’n from SHEBAVAN’s vale, from groves of LAR,
From OBOLA’s jasmine borders, and the meads
That skirt MOSELLA’s stream;
102 or, where amid
SHIRAZIAN gardens
103 prodigal of blooms
The lonely minstrel that awakes the morn,
Bends o’er the new-blown rose, inebriate
With beauty and with love.—A trembling light
That seem’d as if the lucid powers that mourn
Confined within the caves of VIZAPORE,
26
Had burst their fated bonds, and beam’d at once
The mingled radiance of JAURABAD’s
104 gems—
Now tinged with changeful gleam the light of heaven.
All was enchantment! yet the wizard power
So artfully conceal’d, that still the whole
Seem’d a fair region of reality,
Nor did the mind, assimilated softly
To the CHARM, once dare to deem it FICTION.
Here in fond admiration, as I gazed
On NATURE’s fairest FLOWER, whose lovely form,
Soft tinted hues, and odoriferous scent,
Might rival all the blooms of PARADISE,
My heedless foot press’d on a sleeping SNAKE
That sudden turn’d, and writhing round the limb,
Oped wide his venom’d jaws that threaten’d death,
And hissing, darted forth his forky tongue.
Aghast, I started back—HOPE hurrying fled
With more than arrowy speed. A phantom train
Of shapes infernal, dreadful as the band
Raised by infuriate FANCY to torment
Some wretched MANIAC in his wildest hours,
When ghastly DEMONS burst upon his eye,
When nought assail his ear but shrieks of woe,
And HORROR’s deadly fiend with iron hand
Grasps his convulsive heart:—’mid dusky clouds
That wildly roll’d around, the SPECTRES flew,
Now half obscured, now starting from the gloom,
Then vanishing again. A chilling blast
That rose in whirlwind eddies, now involved
The visionary throng in one dire mass
Of horrible confusion. Thro’ the midst
Led by a hand unseen,—with trembling step
And heart subdued by dread, beyond the power
Of utterance to express, o’er broken ground
Bestrew’d with thorns and over rugged rocks
I pass’d despondent, ’till by slow degrees
The cloudy veil dissolving into air,
Open’d my prospect to a scene more wild
Than e’er imagination yet could paint,
From many a rude romantic form combined,
Of mountain, forest, rock, and narrow’d vale,
Thro’ which the roaring waters wend their way,
Impatient of the day-beam that ne’er pierced
The gloomy Asghaubs, whence they burst to freedom,
Thro’ deep enchannell’d banks, rudely o’erhung
By half-fall’n aged trees, whose distant YOUTH
Enjoy’d its vigour, when proud AYRAN’s realm
Was blest and vigorous too.—AGE steals on ALL—
And happy they who meet it well prepared—
That meet it, like the heaven-devoted bard
Sheikh Mosla-eddin SAADI,
105 whose pure song
Shall live whilst heart-felt harmony endures—
Long as divine benignity shall bless
BEN-ATHA’s
106 pious strains, that sung of joy
Amid the desert waste.—These aiding oft
The sweet effusions of congenial minds—
KHACANI
107 — virtuous KEMALEDDIN
108 thine—
And thine sublime KERMANI,
108 humbly great—
Who, leaving courtly grandeur, and the snares
Of soul-enfeebling luxury, didst retire
To temperance and a cottage—science fraught;
And, midst the plane-tree-shaded valley sing
Of that fair HOPE—DELIGHT—SERENITY—
Which pure intention of the heart alone
Yields the poor HADJY thro’ life’s pilgrimage.
These oft in faithful recollection dwell,
And charm my lonely hours—and grateful raise
To heavenly ardors this enkindling heart.
But lo! the torrent dashing down the steep,
Thro’ pendent woods, and over many a mass
Of jutting rock, and huge disjointed stone,
Rifted by lightnings from the cliffs above.
A broken pathway winding up the glen
Here lay before me:—whilst on either side
The high-embow’ring branches overspread
Fair slopes of liveliest verdure,—such as rise
Where PERI spirits join in festive dance
Beneath the myrtle shade, and hymn the hour
When NEURUZE
119 first unfolds the blossom’d bud
Thro’ sweet MOURDESTAN’s
109a forest, ever-green—
And almost ever-blooming:—lov’lier far,
Delightful SHIRAZ, than thy cypress groves,
That wave their spiring branches o’er the nest
Of the complacent turtle, who restrains
Her murmuring love-note, whilst the nightingale
Listens attentively to ZSHOOLEH’s lay.
110
So Angels hear the GOOD MAN’s song of praise
Flow from a humble heart. My friendly guide
Unseen, and scarcely felt, withdrew his hand,
While on mine ear a more than mortal voice
Thus broke divinely sweet.—‘ACHMED, forbear
To doubt that PROVIDENCE which hitherto
Has been thy guide, thy guard. O let thy soul
Resign’d in all to Heaven’s ETERNAL LORD,
Seek WISDOM from on high, and from the source
Of boundless LOVE receive th’ inspiring gift
Of fair BENEVOLENCE, that bids thee meet
The wide creation with expanded heart.
Do good to every creature that exists
Within thy field of action: for the world
Of INSECT or of VEGETABLE LIFE,
Alike display the wonders of his power,
Alike partake the bounties of his hand,
Alike obey the mandates of his will,
Alike advance the universal good,
With MAN’s more lordly race, or ANGEL powers,
That rise sublime above thy sphere, as man
Above the lowest reptile.—Yonder path,
Tho’ devious it appear, will lead thee on
Thro’ NATURE’s fair domain. At every step
New wonders will present, and every hour
The grateful heart new tribute will bestow
Of love and admiration.—If the forms
Or hues of BEAUTY can attract thine eye,
If sweet SIMPLICITY can charm thy heart,
Or TRUTH—eternal TRUTH, can e’er extend
Her empire o’er thy soul, there shalt thou find
A bliss, a heavenly bliss, that wayward MAN
Spurns from his crowded haunts, his camps, his courts,
And leaves the EXILED ACHMED to enjoy.
FINIS.
NOTES.
NOTES.