Here, where no fprings in murmurs break away, • Or mofs-crown'd fountains mitigate the day, In vain ye hope the green delights to know,

Which plains more bleft, or verdant vales beflow: 'Here rocks alone and taftelefs fands are found, • And faint and fickly winds for ever howl around. • Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, • When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way! • Curft be the gold and filver which perfuade • Weak men to follow far-fatiguing trade! The lily Peace outfhines the filver-flore, And life is dearer than the golden ore: Yet money tempts us o'er the defart brown, • To ev'ry distant mart and wealthy town. Full oft we tempt the land, and oft the fea; And are we only yet repaid by thee? Ah! why this ruin fo attractive made ? Or why, fond man, fo cafily betray'd? • Why heed we not, while mad we hafte along, The gentle voice of Peace, or Pleafure's fong? Or wherefore think the flow'ry mountain's fide, The fountain's murmurs, and the valley's pride; Why think we these less pleafing to behold Than dreary defarts, if they lead to gold? Sad was the hour and luckless was the day, • When first from Schiraz' walls I bent

my way

O ceafe, my fears!—all frantic as I go,
When thought creates unnumber'd scenes of woe.

!

• What

• What if the lion in his rage I meet! Oft in the duft I view his printed feet: And, fearful! oft, when day's declining light Yields her pale empire to the mourner Night, By hunger rous'd, he fcours the groaning plain, • Gaunt wolves and fullen tigers in his train; Before them Death, with fhrieks, directs their way! Fills the wild yell, and leads them to their prey. • Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,

• When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way !
At that dead hour the filent afp fhall creep,
If aught of reft I find, upon my fleep:

Or fome fwoln ferpent twift his fcales around,
And wake to anguish with a burning wound.
Thrice happy they, the wife, contented poor;
From luft of wealth, and dread of death, fecure!
They tempt no defarts, and no griefs they find
Peace rules the day, where reafon rules the mind.

Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
• When firft from Schiraz' walls I bent my way
O hapless youth! for the thy love hath won,

The tender Zara, will be most undone!

y!

Big fwell'd my heart, and own'd the pow'rful maid, • When fast she dropp'd her tears, and thus she said: "Farewel the youth, whom fighs could not detain, "Whom Zara's breaking heart implor'd in vain ; "Yet, as thou go'ft, may ev'ry blaft arife "Weak and unfelt as thefe rejected fighs!

"Safe

Safe o'er the wild, no perils mayfl thou see; "No griefs endure; nor weep, falfe youth, like me;" O let me fafely to the fair return,

Say, with a kifs, fhe muft not, fhall not mourn! "O let me teach my heart to lofe its fears,

Recall'd by Wisdom's voice, and Zara's tears!'
He faid; and call'd on Heaven to blefs the day
When back to Schiraz' walls he bent his way.

ECLOGUE III.

Abra; or, the Georgian Sultana.

Scene, a Foreft.-Time, the Evening.

N Georgia's land, where Tefflis' tow'rs are seen

IN

In distant view along the level green:

While evening dews enrich the glitt'ring glade,
And the tall forests caft a longer fhade;

What time 'tis fweet o'er fields of rice to stray,
Or fcent the breathing maize at fetting day;
Amidst the maids of Zagen's peaceful grove,
Emyra fung the pleafing cares of love.

Of Abra firft began the tender ftrain,
Who led her youth with flocks upon the plain;
At morn fhe came, those willing flocks to lead,
Where lilies rear them in the watʼry mead:
From early dawn the live-long hours fhe told,
Till late at filent eve fhe penn'd the fold.

Deep

Deep in the grove, beneath the fecret fhade,
A various wreath of odorous flowers fhe made.
Gay motley pinks and sweet jonquils fhe chofe*.
The violet blue that on the mofs-bank grows;
All sweet to fenfe, the flaunting rose was there :
The finish'd chaplet well adorn'd her hair.

Great Abbas chanc'd that fated morn to stray,
By love contracted from the chace
away:
Among the vocal vales he heard her song,
And fought the vales and echoing groves among.
At length he found, and woo'd the rural maid;
She knew the moparch, and with fear obey'd.
Be every youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!'
The royal lover bore her from the plain;
Yet ftill her crook and bleating flock remain:
Oft as she went fhe backward turn'd her view,
And bade that crook and bleating flock adieu.
Fair happy maid! to other scenes remove;
To richer fcenes of golden pow'r and love!
Go leave the fimple pipe, and fhepherd's firain;
With love delights thee, and with Abbas reign.

Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas mov'd,

And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!'
Yet, midft the blaze of courts, fhe fix'd her love

On the cool fountain, or the fhady grove;

Still,

*That thefe flowers are found in very great abundance

in fome of the provinces of Perfia. fee the Modern Hiftory the ingenious Mr. Salmon.

Still, with the thepherd's innocence, her mind
To the fweet vale and flow'ry mead inclin'd:
And oft as Spring renew'd the plains with flow'rs,
Breath'd his foft gales, and led the fragrant hours;
With fure return fhe fought the fylvan fcene,
The breezy mountains, and the foreft green.
Her maids around her mov'd, a duteous band!
Each bore a crook all-rural in her hand:
Some fimple lay of flocks and herds they fung;
With joy the mountain and the forest rung.

Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!'
And oft the royal lover left the care

And thorns of ftate, attendant on the fair;
Oft to the fhades and low-roof'd cots retir'd,

Or fought the vale where firft his heart was fir'd:
A ruffet mantle, like a fwain, he wore;
And thought of crowns and bufy courts no more.
Be ev'ry youth like royal Abbas mov'd,
And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!'
Bleft was the life that Royal Abbas led :
Sweet was his love, and innocent his bed.
What if in wealth the noble maid excel;
The fimple fhepherd girl can love as well.
Let those who rule on Perfia's jewell'd throne
Be fam'd for love, and gentleft love alone;
Or wreathe, like Abbas, full of fair renown,
The lover's myrtle with the warrior's crown.
Vol. IV. 13.

D

O happy