University of Virginia Library


300

EASTERN ODE

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TRANSLATED FROM THE PROSE OF SIR WILLIAM JONES.

Hark, the sweet Nightingale! how soft she hails
The blooming season, and its balmy gales!
Wild floats her song amid expanding bowers,
And the young almond sheds the silver flowers.
Then let us all be happy while we may,
For soon the inspiring spring shall pass away!

301

A thousand florets deck each hill and grove,
And the rose flaunts in pleasure's gay alcove.
Ah! ere pale Winter, paler fate may breathe
The deadly gale, that blasts our vital wreath!
Hope not, while youth and health their treasures bring,
Life's rapid hours will pause upon their wing!
The light of Beauty glitters round the bowers,
For lovely as my Ahmed, shine the flowers;
Each varied tulip emulates my fair,
Her glowing cheek, dark eye, and golden hair.
Soon, like their hues, her beauties must decay;
We live to love, in youth's resplendent day!

302

Again the dews, from leaves of lilies, glance,
Bright as the watry polish of the lance.
Their moisture soft the clust'ring roses share,
It falls, from floating clouds, through balmy air.
Hear me! O hear me, if ye mean to prove
In youth's short hours, the joys of Spring, and Love!
Gay are the flowers, as Persia's nymphs appear
When the pearl trembles in the fair-one's ear.
They, like the form they emulate, array'd,
Shine but to wane, and blossom but to fade.
Too fair to last, expect their swift decay,
And taste the transient sweetness while you may!

303

Their beauteous orbs anemonies disclose,
Gay tulips flourish, and the splendid rose.
Like spears, at times, the sun-beams pierce the rains,
Tinging the weltering bank with sanguine stains.
This day, while fast those vernal showers descend,
Allot to Wisdom, Fancy, and thy friend!
Past is the time, the wintry days are fled
When the dim rose-bud hung its shrivell'd head;
The time is come when rocks are crown'd with flowers,
And the wild mountains vie with cultur'd bowers.
Glad let us be since e'en rude rocks are gay,
And wear the gaudy wreaths of Love and May.
Now her moist gems the early morning throws
In the fresh bosom of the opening rose.

304

Shall avarice draw thee from our blooming vales
Whose musky perfumes linger on the gales?
What groveling cares do heaps of gold create!
Let love and beauty rule our softer fate!
Thy garden sweets as high the light winds drew,
They chang'd to rose-water the falling dew.
The gilded clouds a rich pavilion form,
Without the sable spot, that threats the storm;
Then shall our temples one dim shade display?
Ye sunny smiles, adorn them while ye may!
Late round the bowers the winds of Autumn mourn'd,
But soon, and bright, the solar Lord return'd.
Of him the cup-bearer desir'd the vine,
And flows, from purple orbs, the rosy wine!
Free bleed the grapes, and freely flows my song,
That gaily tells what joys to youth belong!
O! live my song, that future years may hail
These charming maids, and this enchanting vale!
The charming maids have listen'd to my lays,
And sure the verse will live, they deign to praise!
Since though it tells how short the vernal day,
It bids us live to pleasure while we may.
 

“Thou hearest the song of the nightingale, that the vernal “season approaches. Spring has spread a bower of joy “in every grove, and the almond sheds her silver blossoms. Be “cheerful, be full of mirth, for the spring passeth away, it will “not last.

“The groves and hills are covered with all sort of flowers. “A pavilion of roses, the seat of Pleasure, is raised in the “garden. Who knows which of us shall be alive when the “season ends? Be cheerful, he full of mirth, for the spring “passeth away, it will not last.

“The edge of the bower is filled with the light of Ahmed. “Amongst the plants, the fortunate tulips represent their “companion. Come, O people of Mahomed, this is the season “of merriment! Be cheerful, &c.

“Again the dew glitters on the leaves of the lily, like the “Water of a bright scymitar. The dew drops fall through the “air on gardens of roses—Listen to me—listen to me, if thou “desirest to be delighted! Be cheerful, &c.

“The roses and lilies are like the cheeks of beautiful maids, “in whose ears pearls hang, like drops of dew. Deceive not “thyself with thinking that these charms will have a long duration. “Be cheerful, &c.

“Tulips, roses, and anemonies appear in the garden. The “showers and sun-beams, like sharp lancets, tinge the banks “with the colour of blood. Spend the day agreeably with “thy friend!

“The time is past when the plants were sick, and the rosebud “hung its drooping head on its bosom. The season is “come, in which the rocks and mountains are covered with “tulips. Be cheerful, &c.

“Each morning the clouds shed gems over the rose-garden. “The breath of the gales is full of Tartarian musk—Be not “neglectful of thy duty, through too great love of the world! “The sweetness of the bowers have made the air so fragrant, “that the dew is changed into rose-water. The sky “spreads a pavilion of bright clouds over the garden. Be “cheerful, &c.

“Whoever thou art, know, that the black gusts of the Autumn “had seized the garden—but the king of the world appears, “dispensing pleasure to all. In his reign the happy “cup-bearer desired, and obtains the flowing wine. Be “cheerful, &c.

“By these strains I hope to celebrate this delightful valley. “May they be a memorial to its inhabitants, and remind them “of this assembly, and of those fair maids. Be cheerful, be “full of mirth, for the spring passeth away, it will not last.”

This simile, in the original, of the sunbeams darting through the rains, and tinging the wet banks with the colour of blood, to sharp lancets; and the preceding one, of dew upon lilies, to the watry lustre of polished steel, are each peculiarly in the spirit of the oriental poets, whose comparisons are bold and sublime, but rather broad and general, than answering at all points; yet not the less beautiful for such want of precision. Surprise, to find these two characteristic similes omitted in Sir W.Jones' versification of this ode, induced the author of these poems to give the above translation.