ORIENTAL ECLOGUES.

ECLOGUE I.

SELIM; OR, THE SHEPHERD'S MORAL.

SCENE, A valley near Bagdat.

TIME, The morning.

"YE Persian maids, attend your poet's lays, And hear how shepherds pass their golden days. Not all are blest whom Fortune's hand sustains With wealth in courts, nor all that haunt the plains: Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell; 'Tis virtue makes the bliss, where'er we dwell."

Thus Selim sung, by sacred Truth inspired; Nor praise, but such as Truth bestowed, desired: Wise in himself, his meaning songs conveyed Informing morals to the shepherd maid; Or taught the swains that surest bliss to find, What groves nor streams bestow, a virtuous mind.

When sweet and blushing, like a virgin bride, The radiant morn resumed her orient pride;

When wanton gales along the valleys play,
Breathe on each flower, and bear their sweets away;
By Tigris' wandering waves he sat, and sung
This useful lesson for the fair and young.

"Ye Persian dames," he said, " to you belongWell may they please the morals of my song: No fairer maids, I trust, than you are found, Graced with soft arts, the peopled world around! The morn that lights you, to your loves supplies Each gentler ray delicious to your eyes:

For

And

you those flowers her fragrant hands bestow;
yours the love that kings delight to know.
Yet think not these, all beauteous as they are,
The best kind blessings Heaven can grant the fair!
Who trust alone in beauty's feeble ray

Boast but the worth Bassora's pearls display:
Drawn from the deep we own their surface bright,
But, dark within, they drink no lustrous light:
Such are the maids, and such the charms they boast,
By sense unaided, or to virtue lost.

Self-flattering sex! your hearts believe in vain
That love shall blind, when once he fires, the swain;

Or hope a lover by your faults to win,

As spots on ermine beautify the skin:

Who seeks secure to rule, be first her care
Each softer virtue that adorns the fair;
Each tender passion man delights to find,

The loved perfections of a female mind!

"Blest were the days when Wisdom held her reign,

And shepherds sought her on the silent plain!

With Truth she wedded in the secret grove,
Immortal Truth, and daughters blessed their love.
O haste, fair maids! ye Virtues, come away!
Sweet Peace and Plenty lead you on your way!
The balmy shrub, for you shall love our shore,
By Ind excelled, or Araby, no more.

"Lost to our fields, for so the Fates ordain, The dear deserters shall return again.

Come thou, whose thoughts as limpid springs are clear,
To lead the train, sweet Modesty, appear:

Here make thy court amidst our rural scene,
And shepherd girls shall own thee for their queen:
With thee be Chastity, of all afraid,
Distrusting all, a wise suspicious maid,

But man the most: not more the mountain doe
Holds the swift falcon for her deadly foe.
Cold is her breast, like flowers that drink the dew;
A silken veil conceals her from the view.
No wild desires amidst thy train be known;
But Faith, whose heart is fixed on one alone:
Desponding Meekness, with her downcast eyes,
And friendly Pity, full of tender sighs;
And Love the last: by these your hearts approve;
These are the virtues that must lead to love."

Thus sung the swain; and ancient legends say
The maids of Bagdat verified the lay:
Dear to the plains, the Virtues came along,
The shepherds loved, and Selim blessed his song.

ECLOGUE II.

HASSAN; OR, THE CAMEL-DRIVER.

SCENE, The desert. TIME, Midday.

IN silent horror o'er the boundless waste
The driver Hassan with his camels passed:
One cruise of water on his back he bore,
And his light scrip contained a scanty store;
A fan of painted feathers in his hand,
To guard his shaded face from scorching sand.
The sultry sun had gained the middle sky,
And not a tree and not an herb was nigh;
The beasts with pain their dusty way pursue;
Shrill roared the winds, and dreary was the view!
With desperate sorrow wild, the affrighted man
Thrice sighed, thrice struck his breast, and thus began :
"Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!

"Ah! little thought I of the blasting wind,
The thirst or pinching hunger, that I find!
Bethink thee, Hassan, where shall thirst assuage,
When fails this cruise, his unrelenting rage
Soon shall this scrip its precious load resign;
Then what but tears and hunger shall be thine?

"Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear
In all my griefs a more than equal share!
Here, where no springs in murmurs break away,
Or moss-crowned fountains mitigate the day,

In vain ye hope the green delights to know,
Which plains more blest, or verdant vales, bestow :
Here rocks alone, and tasteless sands, are found,
And faint and sickly winds forever, howl around.
Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!

"Curst be the gold and silver which persuade
Weak men to follow far-fatiguing trade!
The lily peace outshines the silver store,
And life is dearer than the golden ore:
Yet money tempts us o'er the desert brown,
To every distant mart and wealthy town.
Full oft we tempt the land, and oft the sea;
And are we only yet repaid by thee?
Ah! why was ruin so attractive made?
Or why fond man so easily betrayed?

Why heed we not, whilst mad we haste along,
The gentle voice of peace, or pleasure's song?
Or wherefore think the flowery mountain's side,
The fountain's murmurs, and the valley's pride,
Why think we these less pleasing to behold
Than dreary deserts, if they lead to gold?

Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,
When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!

go,

"O cease, my fears! all frantic as I When thought creates unnumbered scenes of woe, What if the lion in his

rage

I meet!

Oft in the dust I view his printed feet:
And, fearful! oft, when day's declining light
Yields her pale empire to the mourner night,
By hunger roused, he scours the groaning plain,
Gaunt wolves and sullen tigers in his train :