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Oft have they seen the Simoom's purple blast
Shed Plague, and Death, and Ruin as it past;
Yet not the Simoom's blast, nor Beast of night,
Raged half so fierce as Mecca's Fiends of fight.
Dreadful they came; and, as the torrent flood
Rolls down its stream huge rock and antient wood,
Till all, save where some scatter'd stems remain,
Lies one wide wat'ry scene, one liquid plain ;
So, thro' thy land, each tribe and wand'ring horde
Sank trembling down before Mohammed's sword,
And to the Koran's sterner rule resign'd
The charter'd birthright of a free-born mind;
Save that some nobler few, content to roam,
Their wealth the javelin, and the waste their home,
Dar'd live, tho' poor yet proud, tho' exil'd free,
Or die, the martyr'd sons of Liberty.

But, sated now with blood, and bow'd with spoils,
Shrinks Mecca's Lord from War's severer toils,
And, while his hell-hounds track the deadly scent,
Sleeps in the rosy shade of Pleasure's tent.
As round him Beauty's varied blossoms rise,
On vagrant wing, from flower to flower he flies,
And drinks, as Chance or guiltier Choice impels,
Unhallow'd waters from an hundred wells.

Slave of thy lawless Will's imperious reign! Oh! hadst thou known to burst th' ignoble chain; Hadst known to quench the flame of wild Desire, And light at Hymen's torch Love's chaster fireAffection's smile had cheer'd thy parting gloom, And widow'd Virtue sorrow'd o'er thy tomb!

For high the bliss that waits on Wedded Love, Best, purest emblem of the bliss above!

To draw new raptures from another's joy:
To share each grief, and half its sting destroy;
Of one fond heart to be the Slave and Lord,
Bless and be bless'd, adore and be ador'd;
To own the link of soul, the chain of mind,
Sublimest Friendship, Passion most refin'd,
Passion, to life's last evening-hour still warm,
And Friendship, brightest in the darkest storm-
Lives there, but would, for blessings so divine,
The crowded Haram's sullen joys resign!

But still, Mohammed, rove; still bid thy soul
Drain the foul dregs of Pleasure's madd'ning bowl;
Still swell thy power, with pride still feed thy heart-
Yet know, thy power, thy pride shall soon depart!
For not the Haram's joys, not Pleasure's draught,
Tho' to its dregs the madd'ning bowl be quaff'd ;
Not all th' ideal Prophet's high renown,
The victor's laurel, and the Monarch's crown,
Can the slow venom * check, whose mortal force
Hath thro' thy veins, for four long years, its course
Wound unperceiv'd, and gradual, in its way,

Pal'd thy cheek's bloom, and dimm'd thine eye-ball's day.

Medina, thou whose guardian arm outspread

First gave its safety to thy Prophet's head!
Again, fond City, ope thy shelt'ring breast,
Again receive him to thy seat of rest!
But not, as then, prepar'd his brow to gem
With purple pomp, and kingly diadem,

* Mahomet died by slow poison, administered to him four years previous to his decease.

But his frail dust to shroud; for now his Sun
Is set in Death's cold shade, his Race is run;
And O! may Darkness, deep as ancient night,
Close o'er his name, and veil it from the sight!

Vain, fruitless wish! no mighty voice hath said,
"Here, Sea of ruin, shall thy waves be stay'd;"
But still they roll resistless; on the tide
Ensanguin'd Zeal and gaunt Ambition ride.
Byzantium sinks o'erwhelm'd, and fades away
The last faint beam of Latium's brighter day,
While Rome's proud eagle, he, whose pinions wav'd
O'er Libya's strand, and Thule's tempest brav'd,
With flagging wing, and crest to earth bow'd low,
Indignant dies beneath a Moslem's blow.

Alas for Palestine! her palmy vale,

Her grove of nard that scented every gale,

Her corn-lands thick with sheaves, her chrystal rills, Her flocks that feed upon a thousand hills,

Her Faith-than flocks, and groves, and vales more
All own the triumphs of Medina's spear.

For Afric weep! her rich and radiant store
From Ophir rifled, gem and golden ore;
Her ravag'd lands, that erst so beauteous smil'd,
From Nile's fair bank to Niger's margin wild;
Her Sons, immers'd in Slavery's darkest night,
All tell the ruffiar Moslem's conquering might.
But oh! if yet the tide of song may flow
In sadder stream, and murmur deeper woe;
If yet one tear be warm in Pity's urn-
That tear, that song, to wasted India turn!

[dear

Alluding to the removal of the seat of empire from Rome to Constantinople, and the subsequent conquest of that city by the votaries of Mahomet!

For she was happy once; her citron groves
Sigh'd to the whispers of the purest loves;
Her proud Pagodas, in the First of time,
Saw Science born, and wondrous Lore sublime;
Lovely, she slept, in Cashmere's fairy bow'rs,
Or sat enthron'd on Delhi's strength of towers.
How chang'd the scene! pale Hymen's altar falls,
Th' impure Seraglio rears its prison walls;
Steals o'er the soul the Koran's chilling gloom,
And Science westward bends her parting plume.
But Time speeds on; and tho' th' Impostor's pow'r
Fiercely hath rag'd its dark and dreadful hour;
Tho' rude o'er Afric's sands the whirlwind pass'd,
And Asia rock'd beneath the rolling blast-
Yet Hope, soft-smiling, lifts her seraph form
And points to sun-bright days, beyond the storm!
Hail, sun-bright days! more fair, than was, of old,
Saturnian age, by fabling Fancy told-

Hail, sun-bright days! bring on your radiant train,
Peace, Mercy, Love, resume your halcyon reign;
Bid ancient Lore, and classic Taste refin'd,
Raise the low thought, and harmonize the mind;
While heaven-born Truth, (tho dimm'd, forbid to fade,)
With beam, more strong from Error's transient shade,
Breaks forth unclouded, and on Mecca's night

Pours the full flood of everlasting light.

University College, Oxford.

MATTHEW ROLLESTON.

TO

ODE

SEE, fairest of the nymphs, that play
In vernal meadows, blooming May
Comes tripping o'er the plain :
Lo! all the gay, the genial powers
That deck the woods, or tend the flowers,
Compose her smiling train.

See, softer, rosier hues adorn
The glowing cheek of blushing morn,
When first she wakes the light:
Behold! a thousand gentle shades
Attend the evening, o'er the glades,
And glad the sullen night.

What sweets perfume the balmy air!
While Flora bids her glittering care
In all their beauty shine.
See Nature round, beneath, above,
All big with joy, all breathing love,
And gratitude divine.

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