"But hast thou ever seen him dare more than a woman is about to do?

666 Many speak of thy deeds. Old and young echo thy praises. Thou art the star the young men look upon, and thy name shall be long heard in the land.

"But when men tell of thy exploits, they shall say, his wife also!" Shame shall attend thy memory.

"He slew

"I slew the ravenous beast that was about to destroy thee. I planted thy corn and made thee garments and moccasins.

"When thou wast an hungered, I gave thee to eat, and when thou wast athirst, I brought thee cold water. I brought thee a son also, and I never disobeyed thy commands.

"And this is my reward! Thou hast laughed at me. Thou hast given me bitter words, and struck me heavy blows.

"Thou hast preferred another before me, and thou hast driven me to wish for the approach of death, as for the coming winter. "My child, my child! Life is a scene of sorrow. I had not the love of a mother, did I not snatch thee from the woes thou must endure.

"Adorn thy wife with ornaments of white metal, Toskatnay. Hang beads about her neck. Be kind to her, and see if she will ever be to thee as I.'

"So saying, or rather singing, she went over the fall with her child, and they were seen no more."

The author asks indulgence for the manner in which these Sketches are written, as "the forest has been his Alma Mater." We apprehend that he need fear little on this account. Saving some occasional rudeness of expression, there is nothing to displease the most fastidious. There is throughout a conciseness, that, in these days, is quite uncommon. There is no expansion, or spreading out of material, no studied elaboration of a particular scene or character, that betrays a disposition to economize and make as much as possible of a small literary capital. Actions and situations that would have served some of our writers for a dozen pages or chapters are despatched in as many lines; and there is throughout the volume a lavishness and confidence in the management of his resources, that mark strength and fertility of genius.

1

1830.]

Twilight Sketches.

159

TWILIGHT SKETCHES.

(Summer Gardens. St. Petersburg.)

THE sun has run his course in pride,
And clouds along his pathway lie,
As if they gathered there to hide
The inward glories of the sky.
A deep carnation wanders through
The river's smooth, unsullied breast,
And earth is blushing with the hue
Reflected from the gorgeous west;

A veil of gold in dimness lies

On a proud city's stately places,
Whose marble palaces arise

To the last sunbeam's soft embraces.

Queen of the North! an eve more bright

Ne'er touched the heart or blessed the sight;

The earth around, the skies above

Were ne'er so full of bliss and love,
And richer hues and scenes more fair,
Ne'er lay beneath the summer air!
A single star comes out upon

The world's unbounded canopy:
How beautiful, when all alone,

It glistens in the dark blue sky!
The tender gloom that twilight brings,
Has fallen on all human things.

A melody of chiming bells
Upon the ear in sadness swells,
Awakening memories that bless
The spirit in its weariness;

O! strong the mastery that can bind
Its magic fetters on the mind,

And wet the cheek and bow the head

Of him to guilt and darkness wed;
And bend him suppliant at the shrine

Of the Madonna's form divine.

Within the rich and massive fane,

Where banners droop, in battle won

There kneels a penitential train

To breathe its evening orison;

Unblemished Virgin! 't is to thee

They lift the eye and bend the knee!
And who can look upon that face,

So full of deep and earnest love,
And deem a mortal hand could trace
Aught so allied to things above!
Mercy is writ upon that brow-

What marvel men before it bow?

Fair Neva! down thy crimson tide
A thousand mirrored barges glide,
And to the gardens of thy shore,
Throngs of the gay and idle pour-
An undistinguishable band,

Gathered from every peopled land—
The turbaned Turk-the London cit,
Mahometan and exquisite,—

The wand'ring Tartar from his tent,
The honest son of trade from Kent,-
The haughty cavalier from Spain,
His gayer neighbour from Bretaigne,-
The maiden from the Volga's mouth,
The dark-eyed daughter of the South!
The soldier worn with wounds and losses,
And recompensed with scores of crosses ;
The gentleman of slender purse
Given unhappily to verse;

Twilight has passed, and the clear moonshine
Runs down the stream in a golden line,
And rushes upon the darkening night,
Like a waveless flood of yellow light!
The perfumed breath of the languid breeze
Scarce sways a bough of the leafy trees,
And stars look out on the quiet even,
Like inlets into the light of heaven.
Night! still, mysterious night! when thou
Art beautiful and bright as now,
I will not join the mingled throng
That pours in heartless mirth along-
Nor gaze on woman's face, when thou
Hast such a smile upon thy brow;

But yield me, heart, and soul, and sense,

To thy most blessed influence!

Words cannot tell the thoughts that brood
Upon the spirit's solitude!

ABDUL ORRINDEC.

THAT fickle minister of Allah, whom the Franks call Fortune, and picture as a blindfold goddess, seemed resolved in heaping her favors on Abdul Orrindec to show that her hand is not always unsteady nor her eye blinded. He was one of those instances which she delights sometimes to set before the sons of men, to convince them that inconstancy is no necessary part of her nature-that she can pour forth unmingled sweets and crown with an unfading_garland. Or perhaps she had consigned Abdul's earthly lot to the ministration of those tender Houris who are now attending him in the seventh heaven, and who had fallen in love with him before he left this world for their native seat. Be this as it may-his lot was well seen to. He was a fortunate and a happy youth. Son of the prime vizier of our greatest sultan-a wise though indulgent father-he saw smiling around him all the luxuries which wealth and influence could procure. As he bounded through his spacious palace or fairy gardens on the banks of the Tigris,

moving every limb with the agility of an antelope-his neck curving more proudly than the desert serpent's, his eyes sparkling above his cheeks like two stars above the redness of the Northern Dawn, enchanted the fair girls who had forgotten their native vales in his delicious grottos; and he saw through the scented foliage the glance of their beckoning arms.

He had a frame at once healthy and delicate. His pure blood, exquisitely sensitive to every delight, sported like quicksilver through his veins.

And Abdul failed not to partake of all the good which Allah had spread around him. The nimble courser, the dancing boat, the cooling sherbet, and the rich red wine; the maiden's bower and the fresh zephyrs laden with music and perfume floating through it—he joyed in all.

But Abdul's soul was large. His eighteenth summer had not flown over him when he was found often alone. No: Hafiz was with him; he conversed with the sweet bards of the days that are gone. His boat often lay still, midway on the broad, calm, sunset-flushed bosom of the Tigris, and their strains were in his ear. A new power woke within him; and he sighed with joy when he found that it could conjure up richer scenes than any within the blue mountains of Bagdat's horizon. He imagined.

And in his palace, he gazed often and long on a marble head, such as the Franks have about their stair-ways and halls. It was one which his father had seized at the sack of Antioch-a head of the great Greek dervise Plato. And Abdul gazed upon it, till Haidee and gentle Lilua grew jealous of its broad still forehead. And ere long the books of the Greeks were in Abdul's palace, and in his choicest shades, and in his boat; and a Greek captive taught him to read them. Abdul thought.

His days were now days of labor. Pleasure was no longer his business. His thoughts were with things afar, and with things past, and with things to come. One evening, as he was gazing from his window upon a noble palm"Three years ago," he exclaimed, "how was I happier than thou art? I luxuriated in my health and vigor and comeliness, living on outward influences; and so dost thou. But now "" His eye glanced to heaven, first with pride and then with gratitude.