« AnteriorContinua »
N fair Circadia, where, to love inclin'd,
Each swain was blest, for every maid was kind; At that still hour, when awful mignight reigns, And none, but wretches, haunt the twilight plains ; What time the moon had hung her lamp on high, And past in radiance thro' the cloudless sky; Sad o'er the dews, two brother shepherds fled, Where wildering fear and desperate forrow led: Fast as they preft their flight, behind them lay Wide ravag'd plains, and vallies stole away. Along the mountain's bending fides they ran, Till faint and weak Secander thus began :
SE C ANDER.
Yon ragged cliff, whose dangerous path we tried ! And last, this lofty mountain's weary fide!
AGI I B. Weak as thou art, yet hapless must thou know The toils of flight, or fome feverer woe! Still as I haste, the Tartar fhouts behind, And shrieks and sorrows load the faddening wind : In rage of heart, with ruin in his hand, He blasts our harvests, and deforms our land. Yon citron grove, whence first in fear we came, Droops its fair honours to the conquering flame; Far fly the fwains, like us, in deep despair, And leave to ruffian bands their fleecy care.
S E C A N D E R. Unhappy land, whose blessings tempt the sword, In vain, unheard, thou call'At thy Persian lord ! In vain thou court'st him, helpless, to thine aid, To shield the shepherd, and protect the maid ! Par off, in thoughtless indolence refign’d, Soft dreams of love and pleafure footh his mind : 'Midit fair sultanas loft in idle joy, No wars alarm him, and no fears annoy.
AG I B. Yet these green hills, in summer's sultry heat, Have lent the monarch oft a cool retreat. Sweet to the fight is Zabran's flowery plain, And once by maids and thepherds lov'd in vain!
No more the virgins shall delight to rove
S, E. CA'N DE R.
eyes in tears their fruitless grief muft fend; Those hairs the Tartar's cruel hand shall rend.
The villain Arab, as he prowls for prey,
He said ; when loud along the vale was heard A shriller shriek, and nearer fires appear’d: Th' affrighted shepherds thro? the dews of night, Wide o'er the moon-light hills renew'd their flight.
A L E T.
Bethink thee, Hassan, where thall thirst ailwage,
Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear
“ Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
Curst be the gold and silver which persuade
Why heed we not, while mad we haste along,