« ForrigeFortsett »
This morning clouds upon me lower'd,
- to none be told
Think not thou art what thou appearest !
My Selim, thou art sadly changed :
But now thou 'rt from thyself estranged.
And hate the night I know not why,
With theorto live, with thee to die,
I dare not to my hope deny:
What fever in thy veins is Alushing ?
(!) “ Musselim," a governor, the next in rank after a Pacha; a Waywode is the third'; and then come the Agas.
(2) “ Egripo"—the Negropont. According to the proverb, tho Turks of Egripo, the Tows of Salonica, and the Greeks of Athens, are the worst of their respectivo
My own have nearly caught the same,
At least I feel my cheek too blushing. To soothe thy sickness, watch thy health Partake, but never waste thy wealth, Or stand with smiles unmurmuring by, And lighten half thy poverty ; Do all but close thy dying eye, For that I could not live to try ; To these alone my thoughts aspire : More can I do? or thou require ? But, Selim, thou must answer why We need so much of mystery? The cause I cannot dream nor tell, But be it, since thou say'st 't is well ; Yet what thou mean’st by arms' and · friends,' Beyond my weaker sense extends. I meant that Giaffir should have heard
The very vow I plighted thee; His wrath would not revoke my
word : But surely he would leave me free.
Can this fond wish seem strange in me,
The partner of her infancy?
Say, why must I no more avow?
The truth;, my pride, and thine till now
And why, I know not, but within
And such it feels while lurking here ;.
Nor leave me thus to thoughts of fear.
Betake thee - Giaffir I can greet:
Hath warn'd the troops to food and sleep
Then sostly from the Haram creep
Our garden-battlements are steep ;
Which some have felt, and more may foel. Geuntiful
Then shalt thou learn of Selim more
“ Fear thee, my Selim! ne'er till now
“ Delay not thou;
(1) " Tchocadar
- one of the attendants who precedes a man of authority.
BRIDE OF ABYDOS.
CANTO THE SECOND
The winds are high on Helle's wave,
As on that night of stormy water
The lonely hope of Sestos' daughter.
eye but saw that light of love,
with Hero's song, “ Ye waves, divide not lovers long!” That tale is old, but love anew May nerve young hearts to prove as true.
The winds are high, and Helle's tide
Rolls darkly heaving to the main; And Night's descending shadows hide
That field with blood bedew'd in vain, The desert of old Priam's pride ;
The tombs, sole relics of his reign, All save immortal dreams that could beguile The blind old man of Scio's rocky isle !
for there my steps have been ;
To trace again those fields of yore,
Contains no fabled hero's ashes,
Thine own“ broad Hellespont" (") still dashes,
The night hath closed on Helle's stream,
Nor yet hath risen on Ida's hill
But conscious shepherds bless it still,
Of him who felt the Dardan's arrow ::
Within — thy dwelling-place how narrow!
Late, late to-night will Dian cheer
(1) The wrangling about this epithet," the broad Hellespont " or the "boundless Hellespont,” whether it means ono or the other, or what it means at all, has been beyond all possibility of detail. I have even heard it disputed on the spot; and not foreseeing a speedy conclusion to the controversy, amused myself wiih swimming Across it in the mean time, and probably may again, before the point is settled. In. deed, the question as to the truth of the tale of Troy divine " still continues, much of it resting upon the talismanic word " atsipos:” probably Homer had the SAINA notion of distance that a coquette has of time, and when he talks of boundless, mcans half a milc; as the latter, bý a like figure, when she says elernal attachment, simply gecifies three weeks.
(2) Before his Persian invasion, and crowned the altar with laurel, &c. He was allerwards imitated by Caracalla in his raco. It is believed that the last also poisoned a friend, named Feslus, for the sake of new Patroclan games. I have seen the sheep feeding on the tombs of Æsietes and Antilochus; the first is in the centro of the plain.