Aladdin; or, The wonderful lamp, a dramatic poem, tr. by T. Martin

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Pàgina 7 - Tis ever thus that Fortune freely hails Her favorite, and on him her blessings showers, Even as to heaven the scented flower exhales. " Unwooed she comes at unexpected hours ; And little it avails to rack thy brain. And ask where lurk her long reluctant powers. " Fain wouldst thou grasp — Hope's portal shuts amain And all thy fabric vanishes in air ; Unless foredoomed by Fate thy toils are vain, Thy aspirations doomed to meet despair.
Pàgina viii - Their tameness only fanned My wilder flame. Who did the young bard save? Who to his eye a keener vision gave, That he the child Amor beheld, astride The lion, far-off ride, Careering wild? Thou, great and good ! Thy spell-like lays Did the enchanted curtain raise From fairy-land, Where flowers eternal blow, Where Power and Beauty go, Knit in a loving band. Well pleased thou heardest long Within thy halls the stranger minstrel's song. Taught to aspire By thee, my spirit leapt To bolder heights, and...
Pàgina vii - East Unveiled its sweets. To manhood as I grew, From North to South, from South to North, I flew: I was possessed By yearnings to give voice in song To all that had been struggling long Within my breast.
Pàgina 6 - ... rocks Girt round with lofty mountains. Holy Allah ! What mighty mystery begins to dawn Upon me? Shall I reach the goal, at last, At midnight hour, after the silent toil Of forty weary years ? I question further : What is this matchless prize? — A copper lamp? How's this ! An old, rust-eaten, copper lamp ! — And what, then, is its virtue? — How ! — "Concealed, Known but to him that owns it." And shall I (Scarce dares my tongue give the bold question voice), Shall I, then, e'er the happy...
Pàgina 6 - A WONDROUS treasure ! The greatest in the world ? — Hid in a cavern? — Where? — In Asia? — And where in Asia ? — Hard by Ispahan ! Deep in the earth ; high over-arched with rocks ; Girt round with lofty mountains. Holy Allah ! What mighty mystery begins to dawn Upon me ? Shall I reach the goal, at last, At midnight hour, after the silent toil Of forty weary years? — I question further: — What is this matchless prize?— A copper lamp ! How's this ? An old rust-eaten copper lamp ! —...
Pàgina 8 - With nature's deep and sacred mysteries. Kindly she tenders me the hidden prize ! Is it that she, with woman's waywardness, May make a mock of me? Not so, — on fools She wastes not her sage accents; the pure light Is not a meteor light, that leads astray.
Pàgina 6 - Concealed, Known but to him that owns it. " And shall I (Scarce dares my tongue give the bold question voice,) Shall I, then, e'er the happy owner be? See ! the fine sand, like water interblends, And of the stylus leaves no trace behind. All's dark ! — Yet stay ! — With surging waves it heaves, This arid sea, as when the tempest sweeps With eddying blast through Biledulgerid. What mean these furrows? — I am to draw forth A poem that lies eastward in the hall, Old, dust-begrimed ; and, wheresoe'er...
Pàgina 8 - Where lies the treasure she has marked for mine.To me 'twas given, with penetrating soul, To fathom Nature's inmost mysteries ; But I am not the outward instrument. " Life's gladsome child ! " — That means some creature gay, By nature dowered, instead of intellect, With body only, and mere youthful bloom. A young, dull-witted boy shall be my aid ; And, all unconscious of its priceless worth, Secure and place the treasure in my hands. Is it not so, thou mighty Solomon ? [Traces lines in the sand.]...
Pàgina vii - Saga lore ; When on the wold The snow was falling white, I, shuddering with delight, Felt not the cold. When with his pinion chill The Winter smote the castle on the hill, It fanned my hair. I sat in my small room, And through the lamp-lit gloom Saw Spring shine fair.
Pàgina viii - By yearnings to give voice in song To all that had been struggling long Within my breast. I heard bards manifold, But at their minstrelsy my heart grew cold; Dim, colorless, became My childhood's visions grand; Their tameness only fanned My wilder flame. Who did the young bard save ? Who to his eye a keener vision gave, That he the child Amor beheld, astride The lion, far off ride. Careering wild ? Thou, great and good! Thy spell-like lays Did the enchanted curtain raise From fairy-land, Where flowers...

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