Here the Magian his urn, full of perfume, is swinging, And here, at the altar, a zone of sweet bells Round the waist of some fair Indian dancer is ringing. Or to see it by moonlight, when mellowly shines The light o'er its palaces, gardens, and shrines; When the water-falls gleam, like a quick fall of stars, And the nightingale's hymn from the Isle of Chenars Is broken by laughs and light echoes of feet From the cool, shining walks where the young people meet. Or at morn, when the magic of daylight awakes LIGHT CAUSES MAY CREATE DISSENSION. Alas!-how light a cause may move And sorrow but more closely tied ; That stood the storm, when waves were rough, Yet in a sunny hour fall off, Like ships that have gone down at sca, A word unkind or wrongly taken-- A breath, a touch like this hath shaken. And eyes forget the gentle ray They wore in courtship's smiling day; As though its waters ne'er could sever, SONG OF THE ARAB MAID. Fly to the desert, fly with me, But, oh! the choice what heart can doubt, Our rocks are rough, but smiling there Our sands are bare, but down their slope As gracefully and gaily springs As o'er the marble courts of kings. Then come-1 Oh! there are looks and tones that dart Some treasure it through life had sought; As if the very lips and eyes, And never be forgot again, So came thy ev'ry glance and tone Then fly with me,-if thou hast known CHAPTER VII. NATIONAL AIRS AND SACRED MELODIES-VISIT TO PARIS-THE FUDGE FAMILY-SLOPERTON-TRUE CHARITY. National Airs, a volume of poems, containing "Flow on, thou Shining River," "All that's Bright must Fade," "Those Evening Bells," "Oft in the Stilly Night,” and others, was published in 1815. From it we select the following: HARK! THE VESPER HYMN IS STEALING. RUSSIAN AIR. Hark! the vesper hymn is stealing O'er the waters soft and clear; Farther now, now farther stealing, Now, like moonlight waves retreating Jubilate, Amen. Hush! again, like waves, retreating REASON, FOLLY, AND BEAUTY. ITALIAN AIR. Reason, and Folly, and Beauty, they say, Folly play'd Around the maid, The bells of his cap rang merrily out; To his sermon-book Oh! which was the pleasanter no one need doubt, Beauty, who likes to be thought very sage, "Look here, sweet maid!"— The sight of his cap brought her back to herself; While Reason read His leaves of lead, With no one to mind him, poor sensible elf! Quoth Folly, "old quiz!” (Folly was always good-natured, 'tis said,) "Under the sun There's no such fun, As Reason with my cap and bells on his head, But Reason the head-dress so awkwardly wore, Old Reason's book, And twisted the leaves in a cap of such ton, (Though not aloud), She lik'd him still better in that than his own, Yes,--lik'd him still better in that than his own. OH, COME TO ME WHEN DAYLIGHT SETS. VENETIAN AIR. Oh, come to me when daylight sets; When Mirth's awake, and Love begins, Beneath that glancing ray, With sound of lutes and mandolins, To steal young hearts away. Then, come to me when daylight sets; Sweet! then come to me, When smoothly go our gondolets O'er the moonlight sea |