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Beneath the clattering iron's sound :-2013 ore in
The cavern'd echoes wake around - intl ay ox Hy8
In lash for lash, and bound for bound; is oussays or go
The foam that strikes the courser's side, JS
Seems gather'd from the ocean-tide: ,,, rif
Though weary waves are sunk to rest, .. '.nl
There's none within his rider's breast, it'..**
And though to-morrow's tempest lower, PhD card
'Tis calmer than thy heart, young Giaour !'...

On-on he hastened-and he drew we' My gaze of wonder as he flew:::.... Though like a demon of the night an He passed and vanished from my sight; His aspect and his air impressed . ... ..1 A troubled memory on my breast zi..... i And long upon my startled ear ;', . . 1 Rung his dark.courser's. hoofs of fear. si sot He spurs his steedhe nears the steep, is ..'. That jutting shadows o'er the deep

is! He winds around-he hurries byThe rock relieves him from mine eye . For well I ween unwelcome he Whose glance is fixed on those that flee; And not a star but shines too bright On him who takes such timeless fight. He wound along—but ere he passed, One glance he snatched—as if his last A moment checked his wheeling steedA moment breathed him from his speed

A moment on his stirrup stood is too sool
Why looks he o'er the olive wood ? :o)
The crescent glimmers on the hill, .. , ;
The Mosque's bigh lamps are quivering still;
Though too remote for sound to wake ''; .,.??
In echoes of the far tophaike, i ste
The flashes of each joyous peal . . .....
Are seen to prove the Moslem's zeal. I
To-night-set Rhamazani's sun

rii
To-night-the Bairam feast's begun ..
To-night-but who and what art thou; iii
Of foreign garb and fearful brow? ;. ;;:1,"7"
And what are these to thine or thee, ... isse
That thou should'st either pause or flee?; "
He stood--some dread was on his face ,
Soon Hatred settled in its place !!} _6; 207 Ltda
It rose not with the reddening flush out v pro!!','
Of transient Anger's darkening blush, tuen:10tr ro
But pale as marble o'er the tomb, sit amet est
Whose ghastly whiteness aids its gloom. !"
His brow was bent his eye was glazed . ?
He raised his arm, and fiercely raised; vt **
And sternly shook his hand on high, i..!
As doubting to return or fly ; ; ; ;
Impatient of his flight delayed,
Here loud his raven charger neighed

i Down glanced that hand, and grasped his bladeThat sound had burst his waking dream, inic As Slumber starts at owlet's scream.

But sadder still it were to trace
What once were feelings in that face-
Time hath not yet the features fixed,
But brighter traits with evil mixed. . i, i proti
And there are hues not always faded, "sť pois
Which speak a mind not all degraded nu....?
Even by the crimes through which it waded :
The common crowd but see the gloom.. . "
Of wayward deeds and fitting doom-- Asian
The close observer can espy is in '
A noble soul, and lineage high.--* ipi17 :17
Alas! though both bestowed in vain, ,..
Which Grief could change--and Guilt could

stain
It was no vulgar tenement s . ",,?
To which such lofty gifts were lent, it is in
And still with little less than dread . ".. ..
On such the sight is riveted ...... ..
The roofless cot decayed and rent, , 1."

Will scarce delay the passer by- . ..; : The tower by war or tempest bent, While yet may frown one battlement, 's:

Demands and daunts the stranger's eye .! Each ivied arch-and pillar Ione, Pleads haughtily for glories gone!

... If solitude succeed to grief, in . cui wa Release from pain is slight relief; .ss,;id The vacant bosom's wilderness, ... toorn 13 Might thank the pang that made it less.. , dove potes"

We loathe what none are left to share-
Even bliss—’twere woe alone to bear;
The heart once left thus desolate,
Must fly at last for ease-to hate.
It is as if the dead could feel
The icy worm around them steal,
And shudder as the reptiles creep
To revel o'er their rotting sleep,
Without the power to scare away
The cold consumers of their clay!
It is as if the desart bird,
Whose beak unlocks her bosom's stream;..

To still her famish'd nestlings' scream,
Nor mourns a life to them transferrd;
Should rend her rash devoted breast, si
And find them flown her empty nest.
The keenest pangs the wretched find
. Are rapture to the dreary void-
The leafless desert of the mind

The waste of feelings unemploy'd
Who would be doom'd to gaze upon
A sky without a cloud or sun ?
Less hideous far the tempest's roar, ; : :
Than ne'er to brave the billows more , visi
Thrown, when the war of winds is o'er, "Snil
A lonely wreck on fortune's shore,
'Mid sullen calm, and silent bay, . . 1
Unseen to drop by dull decay ;- . . .
Better to sink beneath the shock, anni 's ;
Than moulder piecemeal on the rock ! :*** BYRON.

PROLOGUE SPOKEN BY THE CELEBRATED GEORGE

BARRINGTON, AT OPENING THE THEATRE AT BOTANY BAY.

From distant climes, o'er far spread seas we come,
But not with much eclat or beat of drum,
Tho' patriots all; for, be it understood,
We left our country for our country's good.

In private views at end, our generous zeal,
That urg'd our travels, was our country's weal;
And none will doubt but that our emigration i. .
Has prov'd most useful to the British nation. '

But you inquire, what could our breasts inflame
With this new passion for theatric fame?
What, in the practice of our former days,
Could shape our talents to exhibit plays ?

Your patience, Sirs; some observations made,
You'll grant us equal to the scenic trade.
He who to midnight ladders is no stranger,
You'll own must prove an admirable Ranger.

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To find Macheath we have not far to roam; si
And sure to Filch I shall be quite at home. .
Unrivall’d there, none will dispute my claim
To sure pre-eminence in exalted fame.;.

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