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One sad and sole relief she knows,
The sting she nourish'd for her foes,
Whose venom never yet was vain,
Gives but one pang, and cures all pain,
And darts into her desperate brain;
So do the dark in soul expire,
Or live like scorpion girt by tire;(1)
So writhes the mind Remorse hath riven,
Unfit for earth, undoom'd for heaven,
Darkness above, despair beneath,
Around it flame, within it death!

And on that eve had gone to mosque,
And thence to feast in his kiosk.

Such is the tale his Nubians tell,
Who did not watch their charge too well;
But others say, that on that night,
By pale Phingari's (3) trembling light,
The Giaour upon his jet-black steed
Was seen, but seen alone to speed
With bloody spur along the shore,
Nor maid nor page behind him bore.

*

Black Hassan from the harem flies,
Nor bends on woman's form his eyes;
The unwonted chase each hour employs,
Yet shares he not the hunter's joys.
Not thus was Hassan wont to fly
When Leila dwelt in his serai.
Doth Leila there no longer dwell ?
That tale can only Hassan tell :
Strange rumours in our city say
Upon that eve she fled away
When Rhamazan's(2) last sun was set,
And flashing from each minaret
Millions of lamps proclaim'd the feast
Of Bairam through the boundless East.
'Twas then she went as to the bath,
Which Hassan vainly search'd in wrath;
For she was flown her master's rage
In likeness of a Georgian page,
And, far beyond the Moslem's power,
Had wrongd him with the faithless Giaour.
Somewhat of this had Hassan deem’d;
But still so fond, so fair she seem'd,
Too well he trusted to the slave
Whose treachery deserved a grave:

Her eye's dark charm 't were vain to tell,
But gaze on that of the gazelle,
It will assist thy fancy well;
As large, as languishingly dark,
But soul beam'd forth in every spark
That darted from beneath the lid,
Bright as the jewel of Giamschid.(4)
Yea, soul, and should our Prophet say
That form was nought but breathing clay,
By Alla! I would answer nay;
Though on Al-Sirat's (5) arch I stood,
Which totters o'er the fiery flood,
With Paradise within my view,
And all his houris (6) beckoning through.
Oh! who young Leila's glance could read,
And keep that portion of his creed
Which saith that woman is but dust,
A soulless toy for tyrant's lust ?(7)
On her might muftis gaze, and own
That through her eye the Immortal shone;
On her fair cheek's unfading hue
The young pomegranate's (8) blossoms strew
Their bloom in blushes cver new;
Her hair, in hyacinthine (9) flow,
When left to roll its folds below,

(1) Alluding to the dubious suicide of the scorpion, so placed (5) Al-Sirat, the bridge, of breadth narrower than the thread of for experiment by gentle philosophers. Some maintain that the a famished spider and sharper than the edge of a sword, over position of the sting, when turned towards the head, is merely a which the Mussulmans must skate into Paradise, to which it is the convulsive movement; but others have actually brought in the only entrance; but this is not the worst, the river Leneath being verdict “Felo de se.” The scorpions are surely interested in a hell itsell, into which, as may be expected, the unskilful and tender speedy decision of the question; as, if once fairly established of fool contrive to tumble with a “facilis descensus Averni," pot is insect Catos, they will probably be allowed to live as long as they very pleasing in prospect to the next passenger. There is a think proper, wilhout being martyred for the sake of an hypothesis. shorter cut downwards for the Jews and Christians. (2) The candon at sunset close the Rhamazan.

(6) The virgins of Paradise, called. from their large black eyes, (3) Pbingari, the moon.

Hur al oyun. An intercourse with these, according to the in(4) The celebrated fabulous ruby of Sultan Giamschid, the em- stitution of Mahomet, is to constitute the principal felicity of the bellisher of Istakhar; from its splendour, named Schebgerag, faithful. Not sormed of clay, like mortal women, they are adora"the torch of night;" also "the cup of the sun," etc. In the first ed with unfading charms, and deemed to possess the celestial edition, “Giamschid” was wrillen as a word of three syllables, so privilege of an eternal youth. See D' Herbelot, and Sale's Koran. D'Herbelot has il : but I am lold Richardson reduces il lo a dis

--E. syllable, and writes “ Jamshid.” I have left in the lext the ortho- (7) A vulgar error: the Koran allols at least a third of Paradise graphy of the one with the pronunciation of the other.-In the 10 well-behaved women; but by far the greater number of MussulGirst edition, Lord Byron bad used this word as a trisyllable,- maps interpret the leve their own way, and exclude their moieties

"Bright as the gem of Giamschid," — but on my remarking to him, from heaven. Being enemies to Platonics, they cannot discern | upon the authority of Richardson's Persian Dictionary, that this any filness of things” in the souls of the other sos, conceiving (3) A phenomenon not uncommon with an angry Mussulman. (2) Bismillah"In the name of God; the commencement of In 1909, the Capilan Pacha's wbiskors at a diplomatic audience all the chapters of the Roran but one, and of prayer and thanks were no less lively with indignation than a tiger-cal's, to the borgiving.

was incorrect, he altered it lo “Bright as the ruby of Giamschid.'' them to be superseded by the houris. On seeing this, however, I wrote to him, "that, as the comparison (8) An oriental simile, which may, perhaps, though fairly stolen, of bis beroine's eye to a ruby might upluckily call up the idea of be deemed "plus Arabe qu'en Arabie.” its being bloodshot, he had better change the line 10" Bright as (9) Hyacinthine, in Arabic "sunbul;" as common a thought in the jewel of Giamschid;" which he accordingly did, in the follow the eastern poets as it was among the Greeks. jag edition. Moore.

As 'midst her handmaids in the hall
She stood superior to them all,
Hath swept the marble where her feet
Gleam'd whiter than the mountain sleet,
Ere from the cloud that gave it birth
It fell, and caught one stain of earth.
The cygnet nobly walks the water;
So moved on earth Circassia's daughter,
The loveliest bird of Franguestan!(1)
As rears her crest the ruffled swan,

And spurns the wave with wings of pride, When pass the steps of stranger man

Along the banks that bound her tide; Thus rose fair Leila's whiter neck:Thus arm’d with beauty would she check Intrusion's glance, till Folly's gaze Shrunk from the charms it meant to praise Thus high and graceful was her gait; Her heart as tender to her mate; Her mate-stern Hassan, who was he ? Alas! that name was not for thee!

The foremost Tartar's in the gap, Conspicuous by his yellow cap; The rest in lengthening line the while Wind slowly through the long defile: Above, the mountain rears a peak Where vultures whet the thirsty beak, And theirs may be a feast to-night Shall tempt them down ere morrow's light; Beneath, a river's wintry stream Has shrunk before the summer beam, And left a channel bleak and bare, Save shrubs that spring to perish there: Each side the midway path there lay Small broken crags of granite grey, By time, or mountain lightning, riven From summits clad in mists of heaven; For where is he that hath beheld The peak of Liakura unveild ?

*

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Stern Hassan hath a journey ta'en With twenty vassals in his train, Each arm’d, as best becomes a man, With arquebuss and ataghan; The chief before, as deck'd for war, Bears in his belt the scimitar Stain'd with the best of Arnaut blood. When in the pass the rebels stood, And few return’d to tell the tale Of what befell in Parna's vale. The pistols which his girdle bore Were those that once a pasha wore, Which still, though gemm'd and boss'd with gold, Even robbers tremble to behold. 'Tis said he goes to woo a bride More true than her who left his side; The faithless slave that broke her bower And, worse than faithless, for a Giaour!

They reach the grove of pine at last; “Bismillah !() now the peril's past; For yonder view the opening plain, And there we 'll prick our steeds amain :" The chiaus spake, and, as he said, A bullet whistled o'er his head; The foremost Tartar bites the ground!

Scarce had they time to check the rein, Swift from their steeds the riders bound;

But three shall never mount again: Unseen the foes that gave the wound,

The dying ask revenge in vain. With steel unsheath’d, and carbine bent, Some o'er their coursers’ harness leant,

Half shelter'd by the steed;
Some fly behind the nearest rock,
And there await the coming shock,

Nor tamely stand to bleed
Beneath the shaft of foes unseen,
Who dare not quit their craggy screen,
Stern Hassan only from his horse
Disdains to light, and keeps his course,
Till fiery flashes in the van
Proclaim too sure the robber-clan
Have well secured the only way
Could now avail the promised prey;
Then curld his very beard (3) with ire,
And glared his eye with fiercer fire:
“Though far and near the bullets hiss,
I've scaped a bloodier hour than this."

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The sun's last rays are on the hill, And sparkle in the fountain rill, Whose welcome waters, cool and clear, Draw blessings from the mountaineer; Here may the loitering merchant Greek Find that repose 't were vain to seek In cities, lodged too near his lord, And trembling for his secret hoardHere may he rest where none can see, In crowds a slave, in deserts free: And with forbidden wine may slain The bowl a Moslem must not drain.

And now the foe their covert quit, And call his vassals to submit; But Hassan's frown and furious word Are dreaded more than hostile sword,

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(1) “Franguestan,” Circassia.

ror of all the dragomans ; tbe portentous mustachios twisted, they stood erect of their own accord, and were expected every (3) The flowered shawls generally worn by persons of ranko

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With sabre shiver'd to the hilt, Yet dripping with the blood he spilt; Yet strain'd within the sever'd hand Which quivers round that faithless brand; His turban far behind him rolld, And cleft in twain its firmest fold, His flowing robe by falchion torn, And crimson as those clouds of morn That, streak'd with dusky red, portend The day shall have a stormy end; A stain on every bush that bore A fragment of his palampore, (3) His breast with wounds unnumber'd riven, His back to earth, his face to heaven, Fall’n Hassan lies—his unclosed eye Yet lowering on his enemy, As if the hour that seal'd his fate Surviving left his quenchless hate; And o'er him bends that foe with brow As dark as his that bled below.

Nor of his little band a man
Resign'd carbine or ataghan,
Nor raised the craven cry, Amaun! (1)
In fuller sight, more near and near,
The lately-ambush'd foes appear,
And, issuing from the grove, advance
Some who on battle-charger prance.
Who leads them on, with foreign brand
Far-flashing in his red right hand ?
“ 'T is he! 'l is he! I know him now;
I know him by his pallid brow;
I know him by the evil eye (2)
That aids his envious treachery;
I know him by his jet-black barb :
Though now array'd in Arnaut garb,
Apostate from his own vile faith,
It shall not save him from the death:
'T is he! well met in any hour,
Lost Leila's love, accursed Giaour !"

As rolls the river into ocean,
In sable torrent wildly streaming;

As the sea-tide's opposing motion,
In azure column proudly gleaming,
Beats back the current many a rood,
In curling foam and mingling flood,
While eddying whirl, and breaking wave,
Roused by the blast of winter, rave;
Through sparkling spray, in thundering clash,
The lightnings of the waters flash
In awful whiteness o'er the shore,
That shines and shakes beneath the roar;
Thus—as the stream and ocean greet,
With waves that madden as they meet-
Thus join the bands, whom mutual wrong,
And fate, and fury, drive along.
The bickering sabres' shivering jar;

And pealing wide or ringing near

Its echoes on the throbbing ear,
The death shot hissing from afar;
The shock, the shout, the groan of war,
Reverberate along that vale-
More suited to the shepherd's tale.
Though few the numbers-theirs the strife
That neither spares nor speaks for life!
Ah! fondly youthful hearts can press,
To seize and share the dear caress :
But Love itself could never pant
For all that Beauty sighs to grant
With half the fervour Hate bestows
Upon the last embrace of foes,

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“Yes, Leila sleeps beneath the wave, But his shall be a redder grave; Her spirit pointed well the steel Which taught that felon heart to feel. He call'd the Prophet, but his power Was vain against the vengeful Giaour; He callid on Alla-but the word Arose unheeded or unheard. Thou Paynim fool! could Leila's prayer Be pass'd, and thine accorded there? I watch'd my time, I leagued with these, The traitor in his turn to seize; My wrath is wreak'd, the deed is done, And now I go-but go alone.”

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moment to change their colour, but at last condescended lo sub- (4) This beautiful passage first appeared in the third edition. side, which, probably, saved more heads than they contained “If you send more proofs," writes Lord Byron to Mr. Murray hairs

(August 10th, 1813) “I shall never finish this infernal story. (1) "Amaun," quarter, pardon.

Ecce signum - thirty-three more lines inclosed! lo the uller (2) The “evil eye,” a common superstition in the Levant, and discomfilure of the printer, and, I fear, not to your advantage." of which the imaginary effects are yel very singular on those -E who conceive themselves affected.

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“Why comes he not ? his steeds are fleet,
Nor shrink they from the summer heat;
Why sends not the bridegroom his promised gift?
Is his heart more cold, or his barb less swift ?
Oh! false reproach! yon Tartar now
Has gaind our nearest mountain's brow,
And warily the steep descends,
And now within the valley bends;
And he bears the gift at his saddle-bow-
How could I deem his courser slow ?
Right well my largess shall repay
His welcome speed, and weary way.”
The Tartar lighted at the gate,
But scarce upheld his fainting weight:
His swarthy visage spake distress,
But this might be from weariness ;
His garb with sanguine spots was dyed,
But these might be from his courser's side;
He drew the token from his vest-
Angel of Death! 'l is Hassan's cloven crest!
His calpac(1) rent-his caftan red
“Lady, a fearful bride thy son hath wed:
Me, not from mercy, did they spare,
But this empurpled pledge to bear.
Peace to the brave! whose blood is spilt;
Woe to the Giaour! for his the guilt."

But thou, false Infidel! shalt writhe
Beneath avenging Monkir's(5) scythe;
And from its torment ’scape alone
To wander round lost Eblis’(6) throne;
And fire unquench'd, unquenchable,
Around, within, thy heart shall dwell;
Nor ear can hear nor tongue can tell
The tortures of that inward hell!
But first, on earth as vampire (7) sent,
Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent:
Then ghastly haunt thy native place,
And suck the blood of all thy race;
There from thy daughter, sister, wife,
At midnight drain the stream of life;
Yet loathe the banquet which perforce
Must feed thy livid living corse :
Thy victims, ere they yet expire,
Shall know the demon for their sire,
As cursing thee, thou cursing them,
Thy flowers are witherd on the stem.
But one that for thy crime must fall,
The youngest, most beloved of all,
Shall bless thee with a father's name--
That word shall wrap thy heart in flame!
Yet must thou end thy task, and mark
Her cheek's last tinge, her eye's last spark,

A turban (2) carved in coarsest stone,
A pillar with rank weeds o'ergrown,
Whereon can now be scarcely read
The Koran verse that mourns the dead,
Point out the spot where Hassan fell
A victim in that lonely dell.
There sleeps as true an Osmanlie
As e'er at Mecca bent the knee;
As ever scorn’d forbidden wine,
Or pray'd with face towards the shrine,
In orisons resumed anew
Al solema sound of "Alla Hu!" (3)

(1) The "calpac” is the solid cap or centre part of the head he is hauled up with a scythe and thumped down with a red-hol dress ; lbo shawl is wound round it, and forms the lurban. mace till properly seasoned, with a variety of subsidiary proba

(2) The turban, pillar, and inscriptive verse, decorate the lions. The office of these angels is no sinecure; there are but tombs of the Osmanlies, whether in the cemetery or the wilder. Lwo, and the number of orthodox deceased being in a small proness. In the mountains you frequently pass similar mementos: portion to the remainder, their hands are always full. See Relig. and on inquiry you are informed that they record some victim Ceremon. and Sale's Koran. of rebellion, plunder, or revenge.

(6) Eblis, the Oriental Prince of Darkness.-(D'llerbelot sup (7) " Alla Hu!" the concluding words of the muezzin's call 10 puses this title to have been a corruption of the Greek Acabados. prayer from the highest gallery on the exterior of the minaret. It was the appellation conserred by the Arabians upon the prince On a still evening, when the muezzin has a fine voice, which is of the apostate angels. According to Arabian mythology, Eblis frequently the case, the effect is solemn and beautiful beyond all had suffered a degradation from his primeval rank for having the bel's in Christendom.-(Valid, the son of Abdalmalek, was the refused to worsbip Adam, in conformity to the Supreme comfirst who erected a minaret or lurret; and this be placed on the mand; alleging, in justification of his resusal, that himself had grand mosque al Damascus, for the muezzin, or crier, to announce been formed of etherial fire, whilst Adam was only a creature of from it the hour of prayer. This practice has constantly beca clay. See Koran.-E.] kept up to this day. See D'Herbelot.-E.)

(7) The vampire superstition is still general in the Levant. (4) Tbe following is part of a battle-song of the Turks :-"1 see Honest Tournefort tells a long story, which Mr. Soulhey, in the I see a dark-eyed girl of Paradise, and she waves a bandker- notes on Thalaba, quotes, about these “Vroncolochas," as he chief, a kerchief of green; and cries aloud, Come, kiss me, for calls them. The Romaic term is “Vardoulacha." I recollect a I love thee,'" etc.

whole family being terrified by the scream of a child, which they (5) Mookir and Nekir are the inquisitors of the dead, before imagined must proceed from sucb a visitation. The Greek's whom the corpse undergoes a slight noviciate and preparatory never mention the word without horror. I find that “Broucotraining for damnation. If the answers are none of the clearest, lokas” is an old legitimate Hellenic appellation—at least is so

And the last glassy glance must view
Which freezes o'er its lifeless blue;
Then with unhallow'd hand shall tear
The tresses of her yellow hair,
Of which in life a lock when shorn
Affection's fondest pledge was worn;
But now is borne away by thee,
Memorial of thine agony!
Wet with thine own best blood shall drip (1)
Thy gnasbing tooth and haggard lip;
Then stalking to thy sullen grave,
Go—and with Gouls and Afrits rave;
Till these in horror shrink away
From spectre more accursed than they!(2)

But were I prior, not a day
Should brook such stranger's further stay,
Or, pent within our penance cell,
Should doom him there for aye to dwell.
Much in his visions mutters he
Of maiden whelm'd beneath the sea;
Of sabres clashing, foemen flying,
Wrongs avenged, and Moslem dying.
On cliff he hath been known to stand,
And rave as to some bloody hand
Fresh sever'd from its parent limb,
Invisible to all but him,
Which beckons onward to his grave,
And lures to leap into the wave.”

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“How name ye yon lone Caloyer ?

His features I have scann'd before In mine own land: 't is many a year,

Since, dashing by the lonely shore, I saw him urge as fleet a steed As ever served a horseman's need. But once I saw that face, yet then It was so mark’d with inward pain, I could not pass it by again; It breathes the same dark spirit now, As death were stamp'd upon his brow." “'Tis twice three years at summer lide

Since first among our freres he came; And here it soothes him to abide

For some dark deed he will not name. But never at our vesper prayer, Nor e'er before confession-chair Kneels he, nor recks he when arise Incense or anthem to the skies, But broods within his cell alone, His faith and race alike unknown. The sea from Paynim land he crost, And here ascended from the coast; Yet seems he not of Othman race, But only Christian in his face: I'd judge him some stray renegade, Repentant of the change he made, Save that he shuns our holy shrine, Nor tastes the sacred bread and wine. Great largess to these walls he brought, And thus our abbot's favour bought;

Dark and unearthly is the scowl (3) That glares beneath his dusky cowl: The flash of that dilating eye Reveals too much of times gone by; Though varying, indistinct its hue, Oft will his glance the gazer rue, For in it lurks that nameless spell, Which speaks, itself unspeakable, A spirit yet unquelld and high, That claims and keeps ascendency; And like the bird whose pinions quake, But cannot fly the gazing snake, Will others quail beneath his look, Nor ’scape the glance they scarce can brook. From hiin the half-affrighted friar When met alone would fain relire, As if that eye and bitter smile Transferr'd to others fear and guile: Not oft to smile descendeth he, And when he doth 't is sad to see That he but mocks at Misery. How that pale lip will curl and quiver! Then fix once more as if for ever; As if his sorrow or disdain Forbade him e'er to smile again. Well were it so—such ghastly mirth From joyaunce ne'er derived its birth. But sadder still it were to trace What once were feelings in that face: Time hath not yet the features fix’d,

applied to Arsenius, who, according to the Greeks, was after his the modern poem; and that the imprecations of the Turk, against death animated by the devil. The moderns, however, use the the accurseu Giaour,' are introduced with great judgment, and vord I mention.

contribute much to the dramatic effect of the narrative. The (1) The (resbness of the face, and the welness of the lip with remainder of the poem, we think, would have been more problood, are the never failing signs of a vampire. The stories told perly printed as a second canto; because a local change of scene, in Hungary and Greece of these foul feeders are singular, and and a chasm of no less than six years in the series of events, can some of them most incredibly allested.

scarcely fail to occasion some little confusion in the mind of the (2) * With the death of Hassan, or with his interment on the reader.” George Ellis. place where be fell, or with some moral reflections on his fate, (3) The remaining lines, about five

number, wero, ve may presume that the original parrator concluded the tale with the exception of the last sixteen, all added to the poem, either of which Lord Byron bas professed to give us a fragment. But during its first progress through the press, or in subscquent edievery reader, we are sure, will agree with us in thinking, that Lions.-E. the interest excited by the catastrophe is greatly heightened in

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