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Bethink thee, Hassan, where shall Thirst afswage,
When fails this cruise, his unrelenting rage?
Soon shall this fcrip 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-crown'd fountains mitigate the day,
In vain ye hope the green delights to know,
Which plains more bleit, or verdant vales, beflow:
Here rocks alone, and tasteless sands, 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!"
Curst be the gold and silver, which persuade
Weak men to follow far-fatiguing trade !
'The lilly peace outshines the silver store,
And life is dearer than the golden ore :
Yet money tempts us o'er the desert brown,
To every diftant mart and wealthy town.
Full oft we tempt the land, and oft the sea:
And are we only yet repair'd by thee?
Ah! why was ruin fo attractive made,
Or why fond man so easily betray'd ?
Why heed we not, while, mad, we haste along,
The gentle voice of Peace, or Pleasure's song?
Or wherefore think the flowery mountain's fide,
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

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" Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,

When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!” O cease, my fears !-all frantic as I go, When thought creates unnumber'd 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 rous’d, he scours the groaning plain, Gaunt wolves and fullen tygers in his train: Before them death with shrieks 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 silent asp shall creep, If aught of reft I find, upon my sleep: Or fome swol'n serpent twist his scales around, And wake to anguish with a burning wound. Thrice happy they, the wise, contented poor, From luit of wealth, and dread of death, secure! They tempt no deserts, and no griefs they find; Peace rules the day, where Reason rules the mind.

“ Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day,

When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!". O hapless youth ! for the thy love hath won, The tender Zara, will be most undone ; Big swellid my heart, and own'd the powerful maid, When fast she dropt her tears, as thus she said: “ Farewell the youth whom fighs could not detain, Whom Zara's breaking heart implor'd in vain !

Yet,

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Yet, as thou go'it, may ev'ry blast arise
Weak and unfelt as these rejected fighs!
Safe o'er the wild, no perils may'st thou see,
No gricfs endure, nor weep, false youth, like me."
O let me fafely to the fair return,
Say, with a kiss, he must not, shall not mourn;
O! let me teach my heart to lose its fears,
Recall'd by Wisdom's voice, and Zara's tears.

He faid, and callid on Heav'n to bless the day, When back to Schiraz' walls he bent his way.

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IN Georgia's land, where Tefais towers are seen,

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While evening dews enrich the glittering glade,
And the tall forests cast a longer shade,
What time 'tis sweet o'er fields of rice to stray,
Or fcent the breathing maize at setting day ;
Amidst the maids of Zagen's peaceful grove,
Emyra sung the pleasing cares of love.

Of Abra, firft, began the tender strain,
Who led her youth with flocks upon the plain :
At morn she came thofe willing flocks to lead,
Where lillies rear them in the watery mead ;
From early dawn the live-long hours she told,
Till, late at filent eve, she penn'd the fold.
Deep in the grove, beneath the secret shade,
A various wreath of odorous flowers the made :

• Gay-motley'd pinks, and sweet jonquils, the chose, The violet blue that on the moss-bank

grows : All sweet to sense, the flaunting rose was there : The finish'd chaplet well adorn'd her hair.

Great Abbas chanc'd that fáted morn to stray, By love conducted 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 monarch, and, with fear, obey'd.

Be every youth like royal Abbas mov'd,

And every Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!
The royal lover bore her from the plain;
Yet still her crook and bleating flock remain:
Oft, as she went, the backward tun'd her view,
And bad that crook and bleating flock adieu.
Fair happy maid ! to other scenes remove,
To richer scenes of golden power and love!
Go, leave the fimple pipe, and shepherd's ftrain :
With love delight thee, and with Abbas reign.

Be every youth like royal Abbas mov’d,

And ev'ry Georgian maid like Abra lov'd!" Yet, midst the blaze of courts, the fix'd her love On the cool fountain, or the shady grove ; Still, with the shepherd's innocence, her mind To the sweet vale, and flowery mead, inclin'd: And, oft as spring renew'd the plains with flowers, Breath'd his soft gales, and led the fragrant hours,

* That these flowers are found in very great abundance in some of the provinces of Persia ; see the Modern History of Mr. Salmon,

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