Twas when the hour of evening came Upon the Lake, serene and cool, When Day had hid his sultry flame Behind the palms of BARAMOule,* When maids began to lift their heads, Refresh'd from their embroider'd beds, Where they had slept the sun away, And waked to moonlight and to play. All were abroad-the busiest hive On BELA'st hills is less alive, When saffron beds are full in flow'r, Than look'd the Valley in that hour. A thousand restless torches play'd Through every grove and island shade; A thousand sparkling lamps were set On every dome and minaret;

And fields and pathways, far and near,
Were lighted by a blaze so clear,
That you could in wand'ring round,

see,

The smallest rose-leaf on the ground.
Yet did the maids and matrons leave
Their veils at home that brilliant eve;
And there were glancing eyes about,
And cheeks that would not dare shine out
In open day, but thought they might
Look lovely then, because 'twas night.
And all were free and wandering,

And all exclaim'd to all they met,
That never did the summer bring
So gay a Feast of Roses yet :-
The moon had never shed a light

So clear as that which bless'd them there;
The roses ne'er shone half so bright,

Nor they themselves look'd half so fair,

And what a wilderness of flow'rs!
It seem'd as though from all the bow'rs
And fairest fields of all the year,
The mingled spoil were scatter'd here.
The Lake, too, like a garden breathes,

With the rich buds that o'er it lie,-
As if a shower of fairy wreaths

Had fall'n upon it from the sky!
And then the sounds of joy,-the beat
Of tabors and of dancing feet ;-
The minaret-crier's chant of glee
Sung from his lighted gallery,
And answered by a ziraleet

From neighbouring Harem, wild and sweet ;-
The merry laughter, echoing

From gardens, where the silken swing§
Wafts some delighted girl above

The top leaves of the orange-grove;
Or from those infant groups at play
Among the tents that line the way,
Flinging, unawed by slave or mother,
Handfuls of roses at each other.-

Then, the sounds from the Lake,-the low whisp'ring in boats,

As they shoot through the moonlight ;-the dipping of

*Bernier.

A place mentioned in the Toozek Jehangeery, or Memoirs of JehanGuire, where there is an account of the beds of saffron-flowers about Cashmere.

"It is the custom among the women to employ the Maazeen to chant from the gallery of the nearest minaret, which on that occasion is illuminated, and the women assembled at the house respond at interva's with a ziraleet or joyous chorus."-Russel.

"The swing is a favourite pastime in the East, as promoting a circulation of air, extremely refreshing in those sultry climates."-Richardson. The swings are adorned with festoons. This pastime is accompa ured with music of voices and of instruments, hired by the masters of the wings."-Thevenot.

"At the keeping of the Feast of Roses we beheld an infinite number of tents pitched, with such a crowd of men, women, boys, and girls, with music, dances," &c. &c.-Herbert.

An oil commentator of the Chou-King says, the ancients having emarked that a current of water made some of the stones near its banks send forth a sound, they detached some of them, and being charmed with the delightful sound they emitted, constructed King or musical instruBe its of them."-Grosier.

ais miraculous quality has been tributed also to the shore of Attica.

But the gentlest of all are those sounds, full of feeling,
That soft from the lute of some lover are stealing,-
Some lover, who knows all the heart-touching power
Of a lute and a sigh in this magical hour.
Oh! best of delights as it ev'ry where is

To be near the loved One,-what a rapture is his
Who in moonlight and music thus sweetly may glide
O'er the Lake of CASHMERE, with that One by his side!
If woman can make the worst wilderness dear,
Think, think what a Heav'n she must make of CASHMERE

So felt the magnificent Son of ACbar,*

When from pow'r and pomp and the trophies of war
He flew to that Valley, forgetting them all
With the light of the HAREM, his young NOURMAHAL
When free and uncrown'd as the Conqueror roved
By the banks of that lake, with his only beloved,
He saw, in the wreaths she would playfully snatch
From the hedges, a glory his crown could not match,
And preferr'd in his heart the least ringlet that curl'd
Down her exquisite neck to the throne of the world.

There's a beauty, forever unchangingly bright,
Like the long, sunny lapse of a summer-day's light,
Shining on, shining on, by no shadow made tender,
Till Love falls asleep in its sameness of splendour.
This was not the beauty-oh, nothing like this,
That to young NOURMAHAL gave such magic of bliss!
But that loveliness, ever in motion, which plays
Like the light upon autumn's soft shadowy days,
Now here and now there, giving warmth as it flies
From the lip to the cheek, from the cheek to the eyes;
Now melting in mist and now breaking in gleams,
Like the glimpses a saint hath of Heav'n in his dreame
When pensive, it seem'd as if that very grace,
That charm of all others, was born with her face!
And when angry,-for ev'n in the tranquillest climes
Light breezes will ruffle the blossoms sometimes—
The short, passing anger but seem'd to awaken
New beauty, like flow'rs that are sweetest when shaken
If tenderness touch'd her, the dark of her eye
At once took a darker, a heav'nlier dye,
From the depth of whose shadow, like holy revealing
From innermost shrines, came the light of her feelings.
Then her mirth-oh! 'twas sportive as ever took wing
From the heart with a burst, like the wild-bird in spring;
Illumed by a wit that would fascinate sages,
Yet playful as Peris just loosed from their cages.†
While her laugh, full of life, without any control
But the sweet one of gracefulness, rung from her soul;
And where it most sparkled no glance could discover,
In lip, cheek, or eyes, for she brighten'd all over,-
Like any fair lake that the breeze is upon,
When it breaks into dimples and laughs in the sun
Such, such were the peerless enchantments, that gave
NOURMAHAL the proud Lord of the East for her slave:
And though bright was his Harem,-a living parterre
Of the flow'rs of this planet--though treasures wel
there,

For which SOLIMAN's self might have giv'n all the store
That the navy from OPHIR e'er wing'd to his shore,
Yet dim before her were the smiles of them all,
and the Light of his Harem was young NOURMAHAL!

But where is she now, this night of joy,
When bliss is every heart's employ ?-
When all around her is so bright,

So like the visions of a trance,

That one might think, who came by chance
Into the vale this happy night,

He saw that City of Delight

In Fairy-land, whose streets and tow'rs
Are made of gems and light and flow'rs!

"Hujus littus, ait Capella, concentum musicum illisis terræ undis red dere, quod propter tantam eruditionis vim puto dietum.'Ludor. Privee in Angustin. de Civitat. Dei. lib. xviii. c. 8.

Jehan-Guire was the son of the Great Aebar.

In the wars of the Dives with the Peris, whenever the former took the latter prisoners, "they shut them up in iron cages, and hung them on the highest trees. Here they were visited by their companions, whe brought them the choicest odours."-Richardson.

In the Malay language the same word signifies women and flowers The capital of Shadukiam. See the first note on p. 8.

Where is the loved Sultana? where,

When mirth brings out the young and fair,

Does she, the fairest hide her brow,

In melancholy stillness now?

Alas!-how light a cause may move
Dissension between hearts that love!
Hearts that the world in vain had tried,
And sorrow but more closely tied ;

That stood the storm when waves were rough,
Yet in a sunny hour fall off,

Lake ships that have gone down at sea,
When deal' es ail tranquility
A something, light as air-a look,

A word unkind or wrongly taken-
Oh! love, that tempests never shook,

A breath, a touch like this hath shaken.
And ruder words will soon rush in
To spread the breach that words begin;
And eyes forget the gentle ray

They wore in courtship's smiling day;
And voices lose the tone that shed
A tenderness round all they said;
Till fast declining, one by one,
The sweetnesses of love are gone,
And hearts so lately mingled, seem
Like broken clouds,-or like the stream,
That smiling left the mountain's brow
As though its waters ne'er could sever,
Yet ere it reach the plain below,

Breaks into floods that part forever.
Oh, you, that have the charge of Love,
Keep him in rosy bondage bound,
As in the Fields of Bliss above

He sits with flow'rets fetter'd round ;*
Loose not a tie that round him clings,
Nor ever let him use his wings;
For ev'n an hour, a minute's flight
Will rob the plumes of half their light.
Like that celestial bird,-whose nest

Is found beneath far Eastern skies,-
Whose wings, though radiant when at rest,
Lose all their glory when he flics!t

Some difference of this dang'rous kind,—
By which, though light, the links that bind
The fondest hearts may soon be riv'n;
Some shadow in Love's summer heav'n,
Which, though a fleecy speck at first,
May yet in awful thunder burst ;-

Such cloud it is that now hangs over
The heart of the Imperial Lover,
And far hath banish'd from his sight
His NOURMAHAL, his Harem's Light!
Hence is it, on this happy night,

When pleasure through the fields and groves
Has let loose all her world of loves,
And every heart has found its own,

He wanders joyless and alone,

And weary as that bird of Thrace,
Whose pinion knows no resting-place.‡

In vain the loveliest cheeks and eyes

This Eden of the Earth supplies

Come crowding round-the cheeks are pale,
The eyes are dim:-though rich the spot
With ev'ry flow'r this earth has got,

What is it to the nightingale,

If there his darling rose is not ?{
In vain the Valley's smiling throng
Worship him as he moves along;

He beeds them not-one smile of hers

See the representation of the Eastern Cupid, pinioned closely round with wreaths of flowers, in Picart's Cérémonies Religieuses.

Among the birds of Tonquin is a species of Goldfinch, which kings mourously that it is called the Celestial Bird. Its wings, when it is perced, appear variegated with beautful colours, but when it flies they all ter splendour."-Groster.

"Asteae birds on the Bosphorus are never known to rest, they are aled by the French les âmes damnées. "Dalloway.

"You may place a hundred handfuls of fragrant herbs and flowers before the nightingale, yet he wishes not, in his constant heart, for more than the sweet breath of his beloved rose." Jam

Is worth a world of worshippers.
They but the Star's adorers are,
She is the Heav'n that lights the Star!

Hence is it, too, that NOURMAHAL,

Amid the luxuries of this hour

Far from the joyous festival,

Sits in her own sequester'd bow'r, With no one near to sooth or aid,

But that inspired and wondrous maid, NAMOUNA, the Enchantress;-one, O'er whom his race the golden sun For unremember'd years has run, Yet never saw her blooming brow Younger or fairer than 'tis now. Nay, rather, as the west wind's sigh Freshens the flow'r it passes by,-Time's wing but seem'd, in stealing o'er To leave her lovelier than before. Yet on her smiles a sadness hung, And when, as oft she spoke or sung Of other worlds, there came a light From her dark eyes so strangely bright, That all believed nor man nor earth Were conscious of NAMOUNA's birth!

Anemones and Seas of Gold,*

And new-blown lilies of the river,
And those sweet flow'rets, that unfold
Their buds on CAMADEVA's quiver ;t
The tube-rose, with her silv'ry light,
That in the Gardens of Malay
Is call'd the Mistress of the Night,t
So like a bride, scented and bright,

She comes out when the sun's away;-
Amaranths, such as crown the maids
That wander through ZAMARA's shades ;§
And the white moon-flow'r, as it shows,
On SERENDIB's high crags, to those
Who near the isle at evening sail,
Scenting her clove-trees in the gale;
In short, all flow'rets and all plants,
From the divine Amrita tree,||
That blesses heaven's inhabitants
With fruits of immortality,
Down to the basil tuft, that waves
Its fragrant blossom over graves,

And to the humble rosemary,
Whose sweets so thanklessly are shed
To scent the desert** and the dead:-
All in that garden bloom, and all
Are gather'd by young NOURMAHAL,
Who heaps her baskets with the flow'rs
And leaves, till they can hold no more;
Then to NAMOUNA flies, and show'rs

Upon her lap the shining store.

With what delight th' Enchantress views
So many buds, bathed with the dews
And beams of that bless'd hour!—her glance
Spoke something, past all mortal pleasures,
As, in a kind of holy trance,

She hung above those fragrant treasures,
Bending to drink their balmy airs,
As if she mix'd her soul with theirs.
And 'twas, indeed, the perfume shed
From flow'rs and scented flame, that fed
Her charmed 1 fe-for none had e'er
Beheld her taste of mortal fare,
Nor ever in aught earthly dip,
But the morn's dew, her roseate lip.
Fill'd with the cool, inspiring smell,
Th' Enchantress now begins her spell,
Thus singing as she winds and weaves
In mystic form the glittering leaves :—

I know where the winged visions dwell
That around the night-bed play;

I know each herb and flow'ret's bell,
Where they hide their wings by day
Then hasten we, maid,

To twine our braid,

To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.

The image of love, that nightly flies
To visit the bashful maid,
Steals from the jasmine flower, that sighs
Its soul, like her, in the shade.
The dream of a future, happier hour,
That alights on misery's brow,

Hemasagara, or the Sea of Gold, with flowers of the brightest gold 0.5ur."--Sir W. Jones.

["This tree (the Nagacesara) is one of the most delightful on earth, and the delicious odour of its blossoms justly gives them a place in the quiver of Camadeva, or the God of Love."-Sir W. Jones.

"The Malayans style the tube-rose (Polianthes tuberosa) Sandal Mam, or the Mistress of the Night."-Pennant.

The people of the Batta country in Sumatra, (of which Zamara is one of the ancient names,) when not engaged in war, lead an idle, inactive life, passing the day in playing on a kind of flute, crowned with garlands of flowers, among which the globe-amaranthus, a native of the country, mostly prevails."-Marsden.

No sooner was the flow'ry crown

Placed on her head, than sleep came down,
Gently as nights of summer fall,
Upon the lids of NOURMAHAL ;--
And, suddenly, a tuneful breeze,
As full of small, rich harmonies
As ever wind, that o'er the tents
Of AZAB blew, was full of scents,
Steals on her ear, and floats and swells,
Like the first air of morning creeping
Into those wreathy, Red Sea shells,
Where Love himself, of old, lay sleeping ;
And now a Spirit, form'd, 'twould seem,
Of music and of light,-so fair,

So brilliantly his features beam,

And such a sound is in the air Of sweetness when he waves his wings,Hovers around her, and thus sings:

"The almond-tree with white flowers, blossoms on the bare Lanches."-Hasselquist.

An herb on Mount Libanus, which is said to communicate a yellow golden hue to the teeth of the goats and other animals that graze upon it Niebuhr thinks this may be the herb which the Eastern alchymists look to as a means of making gold. Most of those alchymical euthu siasts think themselves sure of success, if they could but find out the herb, which gilds the teeth and gives a yellow colour to the flesh of the sheep that eat it. Even the oil of this plant must be of a golden colous. It is called Haschischat ed dab."

Father Jerome Daudini, however, asserts that the teeth of the goats at Mount Libanus are of a silver colour; and adds, "this confirms to 0 that which I observed in Candia; to wit, that the animals that live on Mount Ida eat a certain herb, which renders their teeth of a golden colour: which, according to my judgment, cannot otherwise proceed than Libanus.

yards

ne women in Egypt go, at least two days in the week, to tray and weep at the sepulchres of the dead; and the custom then is to throw upon the tombs a sort of herb which the Arabs call rihan, and which is our sweet basil."-Maillet, Lett. 10.

**" In the Great Desert are found many stalks of lavender and rosemary."--Asiat. Res

The myrrh country.

This idea (of deities living in shells) was not unknown to the Greezs, who represent the young Nerites, one of the Cupids, as iving in shells on the shores of the Red Sea."-Wilford.

A fabulous fountain, where instruments are said to be cons* ntir playing."-Richardson.

Ard.the passionate strain that, deeply going,
hefines the bosom it trembles through,
As the musk-wind, over the water blowing,
Ruffles the wave, but sweetens it too.

Mine is the charm, whose mystic sway
The Spirits of past Delight obey ;-
Let but the tuneful talisman sound,
And they come, like Genii, hov'ring round.
And mine is the gentle song that bears

From soul to soul, the wishes of love,
As a bird, that wafts through genial airs

The cinnamon-seed from grove to grove.*
"Tis I that mingle in one sweet measure
The past, the present, and future of pleasure;+
When Memory links the tone that is gone
With the blissful tone that's still in the ear;
And Hope from a heavenly note flies on

To a note more heavenly still that is near.

The warrior's heart, when touch'd by me,
Can as downy soft and as yielding be
As his own white plume, that high amid death
Through the field has shone-yet moves with a
breath!

And, oh, how the eyes of Beauty glisten,

When Music has reach'd her inward soul,

Like the silent stars, that wink and listen
While Heaven's eternai melodies roll.
So hither I come

From my fairy home,

And if there's a magic in Music's strain,
I swear by the breath

Of that moonlight wreath,
Thy lover shall sigh at thy feet again.

'Tis dawn-at least that earlier dawn,
Whose glimpses are again withdrawn,‡
As if the morn had waked, and then
Shut close her lids of light again.
And NOURMAHAL is up, and trying

The wonders of her lute, whose strings-
Oh, bliss!-now murmur like the sighing
From that ambrosial Spirit's wings.
And then, her voice, 'tis more than human-
Never, till now, had it been given
To lips of any mortal woman

To utter notes so fresh from heaven;
Sweet as the breath of angel sighs,

When angel sighs are most divine."Oh! let it last till night," she cries, "And he is more than ever mine." And hourly she renews the lay,

So fearful lest its heav'nly sweetness
Should, ere the evening, fade away,—

For things so heav'nly have such fleetness!
But, far from fading, it but grow
Richer, diviner as it flows;

"The Pompadour pigeon is the species, which, by carrying the fruit of the cinnamon to different places, is a great disseminator of this valuable tree."-See Brown's Illustr., Tab. 19.

"Whenever our pleasure arises from a succession of sounds, it is a perception of a complicated nature, made up of a sensation of the present sound or note, and an idea or remembrance of ae foregoing, while their mixture and concurrence produce such a mysterious delight, as teither could have produced alone. And it is often heightened by an anticipation of the succeeding notes. Thus Sense, Memory, and Imaination, are conjunctively employed."-Gerrard on Taste.

This is exactly the Epicurean theory of Pleasure, as explained by Cicero:-" Quocirca corpus gaudere tamdiu, dum præsentem sentiret voluptatem; animum et præsentem percipere pariter cum corpore et prospicere venientem, nec præteritam præterfluere sinere."

Madame de Staël accounts upon the same principle for the gratification we derive from rhyme :-"Elle est l'image de l'espérance et du souvenir. lin son nous fait désirer celui qui doit lui répondre, et quand le second retentit il nous rappelle celui qui vient de nous échapper.

The Persians have two mornings, the Soobhi Kazim and the Boobhi Sadig, the false and the real day-break. They account for this phenomenon in a most whimsical manner. They say that as the sun rises from behind the Kohi Qaf (Mount Caucasus) it passes a hole perforated through that mountain, and that darting its rays through it, it is the cause of the Soobhi Kazim, or this temporary appearance of daybreak. As it ascends, the earth is again veiled in darkness, until the sun rises above the mountain, and brings with it the Soobhi Sadig, or rea morning." "-Scott Waring. He thinks Milton may allude to this, whe

"Ere the blabbing Eastern scout, The nice morn on the Indian steep From her cabin'd loop-hole peep."

Till rapt she dwells on every string,

And pours again each sound along, Like Echo, lost and languishing,

In love with her own wondrous song.

That evening, (trusting that his soul
Might be from haunting love released
By mirth, by music, and the bowl,)
Th' imperial SELIM held a feast
In his magnificent Shalimar :-*
In whose Saloons, when the first star
Of evening o'er the waters trembled,
The Valley's loveliest all assembled ;
All the bright creatures that, like dreams,
Glide through its foliage, and drink beams
Of beauty from its founts and streams ;t⚫
And all those wand'ring minstrel-maids,
Who leave-how can they leave ?—the shades
Of that dear Valley, and are found

Singing in gardens of the South!
Those songs, that ne'er so sweetly sound

As from a young Cashmerian's mouth.

There, too, the Harem's inmates smile ;-
Maids from the West, with sun-bright hair
And from the Garden of the NILE,

Delicate as the roses there ;-◊
Daughters of Love from CYPRUS' rocks,
With Paphian diamonds in their locks ;-
Light PERI forms, such as they are
On the gold meads of CANDAHAR ;T
And they, before whose sleepy eyes,

In their own bright Kathaian bow'rs,
Sparkle such rainbow butterflies,

That they might fancy the rich flow'rs, That round them in the sun lay sighing, Had been by magic all set flying.**

Every thing young, every thing fair
From East and West is blushing there,
Except-except-oh, NOURMAHAL!
Thou loveliest, dearest of them all,
The one, whose smile shone out alone,
Amidst a world the only one;
Whose light, among so many lights,
Was like that star on starry nights,
The seaman singles from the sky,
To steer his bark forever by!

Thou wert not there-so SELIM thought,

And every thing seem'd drear without thee, But, ah! thou wert, thou wert,-and brought Thy charm of song all fresh about thee. Mingling unnoticed with a band

Of lutanists from many a land,

"In the centre of the plain, as it approaches the Lake, one of the Delhi Emperors, I believe Shah Jehun, constructed a spacious garden called the Shalimar, which is abundantly stored with fruit-trees and flowering shrubs. Some of the rivulets which intersect the plair, are led into a canal at the back of the garden, and flowing through its centre, or occasionally thrown into a variety of water works, compose the chief beauty of the Shalimar. To decorate this spot the Mogul Princes of India have displayed an equal magnificence and taste; especially Jeban Gheer, who, with the enchanting Noor Mahl, made Kashmire his usund residence during the summer months. On arches thrown over the canal are erected, at equal distances, four or five suits of apartments, ench consisting of a saloon, with four rooms at the angles, where the followers of the court attend, and the servants prepare sherbets, coffee, and the hookah. The frame of the doors of the principal saloon is composed of pieces of a stone of a black colour, streaked with yellow lines, and of a closer grain and higher polish than porphyry. They were taken, it is said, from a Hindoo temple, by one of the Mogul princes, and are esteemed of great value."-Forster.

The waters of Cachemir are the more renowned from its being supposed that the Cachemirians are indebted for their beauty to them." -Ali Yezdi.

"From him I received the following little Gazzel, or Love Song, the notes of which he committed to paper from the voice of one of those singing girls of Cashmere, who wander from that delightful valley over the various parts of India."-Persian Miscellanies.

The roses of the Jinan Nile, or Garden of the Nile, (attached to the Emperor of Morocco's palace,) are unequalled, and inattresses are made of their leaves for the men of rank to recline upon."--Jackson.

"On the side of a mountain near Paphos there is a cavern which produces the most beautiful rock-crystal. On account of its brilliancy it has been called the Paphion diamond "-Mariti.

"There is a part of Candahar, called Perin, or Fairy Land."-Thevenot. In some of those countries to the north of India, vegetable gold is supposed to be produced.

**These are the butterflies which are en led in the Chinese lan guage-Flying Leaves. Some of them have such shining colours, and are so variegated, that they may be called flying flowers and indeed they are always produced in the finest tower gardens.”—Dunn

And veil'd by such a mask as shades
The features of young Arab maids,—*
A mask that leaves but one eye free,
To do its best in witchery,-
She roved, with beating heart, around,

And waited, trembling, for the minute,
When she might try if still the sound

Of her loved lute had magic in it.

The board was spread with fruits and wine; With grapes of gold, like those that shine On CASBIN's hills ;t-pomegranates full

Of melting sweetness, and the pears, And sunniest applest that CAUBUL

In all its thousand gardens bears;→→ Plantains, the golden and the green, MALAYA'S nectar'd mangusteen ;|| Prunes of BоKHARA, and sweet nuts

From the far groves of SAMARCAND,
And BASRA dates, and apricots,

Seed of the sun, from IRAN's land ;—~
With rich conserve of Visna cherries,**
Of orange flowers, and of those berries
That, wild and fresh, the young gazelles
Feed on in ERAC's rocky dells.††
All these in richest vases smile,

In baskets of pure santal-wood,
And urns of porcelain from that islett
Sunk underneath the Indian flood,
Whence oft the lucky diver brings
Vases to grace the halls of kings.
Wines, too, of every clime and hue,
Around their liquid lustre threw ;
Amber Rosolli,§-the bright dew
From vineyards of the Green-Sea gushing
And SHIRAZ wine, that richly ran

As if that jewel, large and rare,
The ruby for which KUBLAI-KHAN
Offer'd a city's wealth, was blushing,
Melted within the goblets there!

And amply SELIM quaffs of each,
And seems resolved the flood shall reach
His inward heart,-shedding around

A genial deluge, as they run,

That soon shall leave no spot undrown'd,
For Love to rest his wings upon.

He little knew how well the boy,

Can float upon a goblet's streams, Lighting them with his smile of joy ;—

As bards have seen him in their dreams, Down the blue GANGES laughing glide Upon a rosy lotus wreath,*** Catching new lustre from the tide

That with his image shone beneath.

"We sat down under a tree, listened to the birds, and talked with the son of our Mehnaundar about our country and Caubul, of which he gave an enchanting account: that city and its 100,000 gardens," &c.11.

The mangusteen, the most delicate fruit in the world; the pride of the Malay islands."--Marsden.

"A delicious kind of apricot, called by the Persians tokmek-shems, gay ng sun's seed."-Description of Persia.

**

Sweetmeats, in a crystal cup, consisting of rose leaves in conserve, with lemon of Visua cherry, orange flowers," &c.-Russel.

Antelopes cropping the fresh berries of Erac."-The Moallakat, Poem of Turata.

11" Mauri-gn-Sima, an island near Formosa, supposed to have been kuik in the sea for the crimes of its inhabitants. The vessels which the balermen and divers bring up from it are sold at an immense price in China and Jagay."-See Kempfer.

ss Persian Tales.

The white wine of Kishma.

"ver seen.

The king of Zelan is said to have the very finest ruby that was Kublai Khan sent and offered the value of a city for it, but the King answered he would not give it for the treasure of the world." Marco Polo.

*** The Indians feign that Cupid was first seen floating down the Canges on the Nym a Nelumbo.--Soe Pennant.

Of her own country maidens' looks,
When warm they rise from TEFLIS' brooks
And with an eye, whose restless ray,

Full, floating, dark-oh, he, who knows
His heart is weak, of Heav'n should pray
To guard him from such eyes as those!...
With a voluptuous wildness flings
Her snowy hand across the strings
Of a syrinda, and thus sings:-

Come hither, come hither-by night and by day,
We linger in pleasures that never are gone :
Like the waves of the summer, as one dies away.
Another as sweet and as shining comes on.
And the love that is o'er, in expiring, gives birth
To a new one as warm, as unequall'd in bliss
And, oh! if there be an Elysium on earth,
It is this, it is this.t

Here maidens are sighing, and fragrant their sigh
As the flow'r of the Amra just oped by a bee ;§
And precious their tears as that rain from the sky,||
Which turns into pearls as it falls in the sea.
Oh! think what the kiss and the smile must be worth
When the sigh and the tear are so perfect in bliss.
And own if there be an Elysium on earth,
It is this, it is this.

Here sparkles the nectar, that, hallow'd by love,

Could draw down those angels of old from their spher Who for wine of this earth left the fountains above, And forgot heav'n's stars for the eyes we have h ́rs And, bless'd with the odour our goblet gives forth, What Spirit the sweets of his Eden would miss ? For, oh! if there be an Elysium on earth, It is this, it is this.

The Georgian's song was scarcely mute,
When the same measure, sound for sound,
Was caught up by another lute,

And so divinely breathed around,
That all stood hush'd and wondering,
And turn'd and look'd into the air,
As if they thought to see the wing
Of ISRAFIL,** the Angel, there;—
So pow'rfully on ev'ry soul

That new, enchanted measure stole.
While now a voice, sweet as the note

Of the charm'd lute, was heard to float
Along its chords, and so entwine

Its sounds with theirs, that none knew whethe
The voice or lute was most divine,

So wondrously they went together :-

There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told,
When two, that are link'd in one heav'nly tie,
With heart never changing, and brow never cold,
Love on through all ills, and love on till they die!
One hour of a passion so sacred is worth

Whole ages of heartless and wand'ring bliss;
And, oh! if there be an Elysium on earth,
It is this, it is this.

"Twas not the air, 'twas not the words,
But that deep magic in the chords
And in the lips, that gave such pow'r
As Music knew not till that hour.
At once a hundred voices said,
"It is the mask'd Arabian maid!"
While SELIM, who had felt the strain
Deepest of any, and had lain

*Teffis is celebrated for its natural warm baths.-See Ebn Hastal †The Indian Syrinda, or guitar."-Symez.

Around the exterior of the Dewan Khafs (a building of Shah Al lum's) in the cornice are the following lines in letters of gold upon t ground of white marble if there be a paradise upon earth, it is this, v is this."-Francklin.

§ Delightful are the flowers of the Amra trees on the nountain tops, while the murmuring bees pursue their voluptuous toil."--Sent of Jayadeva. The Nisan or drops of spring rain, which they believe to produce pearls if they fall into shells."-Richardson. For an account of the share which wine had in the fell of the an gels, e Mariti.

**The Angel of Music. Sce note † 2. 43.