University of Virginia Library


123

ORIENTAL ECLOGUES.


125

ZERAD;

OR, THE ABSENT LOVER:

AN ARABIAN ECLOGUE.


126

[_]

THE learned and ingenious Mr. Jones, in his elegant and judicious Essay on the Poetry of Eastern Nations, speaking of the Arabians, has the following passage: “It sometimes happens,” says he, “that the young men of one tribe are in love with the damsels of another; and, as the tents are frequently removed on a sudden, the lovers are often separated in the progress of the courtship. Hence, almost all the Arabic poems open in this manner: The author bewails the sudden departure of his mistress, Hinda, Maia, Zeineb, or Azza, and describes her beauty; comparing her to a wanton fawn that plays among the aromatic shrubs. His friends endeavour to comfort him; but he refuses consolation; he declares his resolution of visiting his beloved, though the way to her tribe lie through a dreadful wilderness, or even through a den of lions.”—The Author of the following Eclogue was struck with this outline, and has attempted to fill it up. An apology for expatiating on the pleasing subjects of Love and Beauty, when nothing is said to offend the ear of Chastity, he supposes needless. If any, however, there be, who question the utility of at all describing those subjects; such may remember, that there is an Eastern Poem, generally esteemed sacred, which abounds with the most ardent expressions of the one, and luxuriant pictures of the other.


127

Korasa's Tribe, a frequent-wandering train,
From Zenan's pastures sought Negiran's plain.
With them Semira left her favourite shades,
The loveliest nymph of Yemen's sportive maids!
Her parting hand her fair companions prest;
A transient sorrow touch'd each tender breast;
As some thin cloud across the morning ray
Casts one short moment's gloom, and glides away:
Their cares, their sports, they hasted soon to tend,
And lost in them the memory of their friend.

128

But gallant Zerad ill her absence bore,—
A wealthy Emir from Katara's shore;
A warrior he, the bravest of his race;
A bard high-honoured in his native place;
Age oft learn'd knowledge from his tuneful tongue,
And listening Beauty languish'd while he sung.
What time the tribes in camp contiguous lay,
Oft with the Fair-one he was wont to stray;
There oft for her fresh fruits and flow'rs he sought,
And oft her flocks to chrystal fountains brought.
Where the tall palm-grove grac'd Alzobah's green,
And sable tents in many a rank were seen ;
While Evening's steps the setting Sun pursued,
And the still fields her balmy tears bedew'd;
The pensive Lover, there reclin'd apart,
Indulg'd the sorrows of his anxious heart.

129

His graceful head the costly turban drest;
The crimson sash confin'd his azure vest;
His hand the sounding arabeb sustain'd;
And thus his voice in melody complain'd—
Soft as the night-bird's amorous music flows,
In Zibet's gardens, when she woos the rose :
‘Bright star of Sora's sky, whose matchless blaze
‘Gilds thy proud tribe with mild, benignant rays!
‘Sweet flow'r of Azem's vale, whose matchless bloom
‘O'er thy fam'd house spreads exquisite perfume!
‘Blithe fawn of Kosa, at the break of dawn,
‘Midst groves of cassia, sporting on the lawn!

130

‘Too charming Beauty! why must I bemoan
‘Thee from my presence thus abruptly flown?
‘Ere the shrill trump to march the signal gave,
‘And banners high in air began to wave;
‘Ere the tall camel felt his wonted load,
‘And herds and flocks slow mov'd along the road;
‘Ere slow behind them march'd the warrior train,
‘And the struck tents left vacant all the plain;
‘Could no fond plea obtain a longer stay?
‘Would no kind hand th' intelligence convey?
‘Ah, hapless me! to Aden's port I stray'd,
‘Sought gold and gems, but lost my lovely maid!
‘My friends, they come my sorrows to allay—
Azor the wise, and Soliman the gay—
‘One cries, “Let Reason hold her sober reign,
“Nor Love's light trifles give thy bosom pain!
“For thee kind Science all her lore displays,
“And Fame awaits thee with the wreath of praise.”

131

“O why,” cries one, “is she alone thy care?
“She's fair, indeed, but other maids are fair:
Negima's eyes with dazzling lustre shine,
“And her black tresses curl like Zebid's vine;
“On Hinda's brow Kushemon's lily blows,
“And on her cheek unfolds Nishapor's rose!
“With them, the tale, the song, the dance shall please,
“When Mirth's free banquet fills the bow'r of ease.”
‘Ah cease, said I; of love he little knows,
‘Who with sage counsel hopes to cure its woes!
‘Go, bid in air Yamama's lightnings stay,
‘Or Perath's lion quit his trembling prey:
‘Kind Science' lore with Beauty best we share,
‘And Beauty's hands Fame's fairest wreaths prepare.
‘I praise Negima's lovely hair and eyes;
‘Nor Hinda's lily, nor her rose despise:

132

‘But Omman's pearls diffuse a brighter beam
‘Than the gay pebbles of Kalafa's stream.—
‘O lov'd Semira! whither dost thou rove?
‘Tread thy soft steps by Sada's jasmine grove?
‘Dost thou thy flocks on Ocah's mountain keep?
‘Do Ared's olives whisper o'er thy sleep?—
‘Ah, no!—the maid, perhaps, remote from these,
‘Some hostile troop, in ambush laid, may seize:
‘Too lovely captive! she, in triumph borne,
‘The proud Pacha's throng'd haram shall adorn.
‘Vain fear! around her march her valiant friends;
‘Brave Omar's hand the bow of Ishmael bends;
‘Strong Hassan's arm Kaaba's spear can wield,
‘And rear on high El-makin's ponderous shield!
‘Ah, shame to me! shall Sloth's dishonouring chain
‘From love, from glory, Zerad here detain,

133

‘Till grief my cheek with sickly saffron spread,
‘And my eyes, weeping, match th' Argavan's red ?
‘Haste, bring my steed, supreme in strength and grace,
‘First in the fight, and fleetest in the chace;
‘His sire renown'd on Gebel's hills was bred,
‘His beauteous dam in Derar's pastures fed:
‘Bring my strong lance that, ne'er impell'd in vain,
‘Pierc'd the fierce tyger on Hegasa's plain.
‘Across the Desart I her steps pursue;
‘Toil at my side, and Danger in my view!
‘There Thirst, fell dæmon! haunts the sultry air,
‘And his wild eye-balls roll with horrid glare;

134

‘There deadly Sumiel , striding o'er the land,
‘Sweeps his red wing, and whirls the burning sand;
‘As winds the weary caravan along,
‘The fiery storm involves the hapless throng.
‘I go, I go, nor Toil nor Danger heed;
‘The faithful lover Safety's hand shall lead.
‘The heart that fosters Virtue's generous flames,
‘Our Holy Prophet's sure protection claims.
‘Delightful Irem (midst the lonely waste
‘By Shedad's hand the paradise was plac'd)
‘Each shady tree of varied foliage shows,
‘And every flower and every fruit bestows;

135

‘There drop rich gums of every high perfume;
‘There sing sweet birds of every gaudy plume;
‘There soft-eyed Houries tread th' enamell'd green—
‘Once, and no more, the happy seat was seen;
‘As his stray'd camel midst the wild he sought,
‘Chance to the spot the wandering Esar brought;
‘A blissful Irem, 'midst the Desart drear,
Semira's tent my love-sick sight shall chear.
‘What palm of beauty tow'rs on Keran's hills?
‘What myrrh with fragrance Sala's valley fills?
‘'Tis she, who left so late her favourite shades,
‘The loveliest nymph of Yemen's sportive maids!
‘Look from thy tent, the curtains fair unfold,
‘Give to my view thy veil of silk and gold;
‘O lift that veil! thy radiant eyes display—
‘Those radiant eyes shall light me on my way!
‘On Hejar's wild rocks from the Persian main,
‘Thus the Moon rising lights the wilder'd swain.

136

‘O raise thy voice! the sound shall give delight,
‘Like songs of pilgrims distant heard by night!
‘I come, I come!’—He spoke, and seiz'd the rein,
And his fleet courser spurn'd the sandy plain.
 

The Arabian Tents are black. Vide Canticles, i. 5.

Arabebbah, an Arabian and Moorish instrument of music. Vide Shaw's Travels, and Russell's History of Aleppo.

Alluding to an Eastern fable of the Nightingale courting the Rose.

D' Herbelot informs us, that Saffron Faces, and Argavan Eyes, are expressions commonly used in the East, to describe passionate lovers, whose melancholy appears in their countenances, and whose eyes become red with weeping. The Argavan is supposed to be the Arbor Judæ; whose blossoms are of a bright purple. Vide Harmer's Commentary on Solomon's Song, page 162.

Sumiel: The fiery blasting wind of the Desart.

“Mahommed, in his Alcoran, in the Chapter of the Morning, mentions a garden, called Irem, which is no less celebrated by the Asiatic poets, than that of the Hesperides by the Greeks. It was planted, as the Commentators say, by a king, named Shedad; and was once seen by an Arabian, who wandered far into the Desart, in search of a lost camel.” Jones's Essay on the Poetry of Eastern Nations.


137

SERIM;

OR, THE ARTIFICIAL FAMINE.

AN EAST-INDIAN ECLOGUE.

O Guardian Genius of this sacred wave !
‘O save thy sons, if thine the power to save!’
So Serim spoke, as sad on Ganges' shore
He sat, his country's miseries to deplore—
‘O Guardian Genius of this sacred wave!
‘O save thy sons, if thine the power to save!
‘From Agra's tow'rs to Muxadabat's walls,
‘On thee for aid the suffering Hindoo calls:

140

‘Europe's fell race controul the wide domain,
‘Engross the harvest, and enslave the swain.
‘Why rise these cumbrous piles along thy tide?
‘They hold the plenty to our prayers denied!
‘Guards at their gates perpetual watch maintain,
‘Where Want in anguish craves relief in vain.
“Bring gold, bring gems,” the insatiate plunderers cry;
“Who hoards his wealth by Hunger's rage shall die.”
‘Ye Fiends! ye have ravish'd all our little store;
‘Ye see we perish, yet ye ask for more!
‘Go ye yourselves, and search for gold the mine;
‘Go, dive where pearls beneath the ocean shine!
‘What right have ye to plague our peaceful land?
‘No ships of ours e'er sought your western strand:
‘Ne'er from your fields we snatch'd their crops away,
‘Nor made your daughters or your sons our prey.

141

‘Not ev'n in thought we quit our native place—
‘A calm, contented, inoffensive race!
‘By Avarice led, ye range remotest climes,
‘And every nation execrates your crimes.
‘When Timur's House renown'd, in Delhi reign'd,
‘Distress, assistance unimplor'd obtain'd:
‘When Famine o'er the afflicted region frown'd,
‘And Sickness languish'd on the barren ground,
‘The Imperial granaries wide display'd their doors,
‘And ships provision brought from distant shores;
‘The laden camels crowded Kurah's vales,
‘From Colgon's cliffs they hail'd the coming sails.

142

‘But ye!—even now, while fav'ring seasons smile,
‘And the rich glebe would recompense our toil,
‘Dearth and Disease to you alone we owe;
‘Ye cause the mischief, and enjoy the woe!
‘This beauteous clime, but late, what plenty blest!
‘What days of pleasure, and what nights of rest!
‘From Gola's streets, fam'd mart of fragrant grain!
‘Trade's chearful voice resounded o'er the plain;
‘There now sad Silence listens to the waves
‘That break in murmurs round the rocky caves.
‘Sweet were the songs o'er Jumal's level borne,
‘While busy thousands throng'd to plant the corn;
‘Now tenfold tax the farmer forc'd to yield,
‘Despairs, and leaves unoccupied the field.
‘Sweet were the songs of Burdwan's mulberry grove,
‘While the rich silk the rapid shuttle wove;

143

‘Now from the loom our costly vestments torn,
‘The insulting robbers meanest slaves adorn.
‘In Malda's shades, on Purna's palmy plain,
‘The hapless artists, urg'd to toil in vain,
‘Quit their sad homes, and mourn along the land,
‘A pensive, pallid, self-disabled band !—
‘The year revolves—“Bring choicest fruits and flowers!
‘Spread wide the board in consecrated bowers;

144

“Bring Joy, bring Sport, the song, the dance prepare!
“'Tis Drugah's Feast, and all our friends must share!”
‘The year revolves—nor fruits nor flowers are seen;
‘Nor festive board in bowers of holy green;
‘Nor Joy, nor Sport, nor dance, nor tuneful strain:
‘'Tis Drugah's feast—but Grief and Terror reign.
‘Yet there, ingrate! oft welcome guests ye came,
‘And talk'd of Honour's laws and Friendship's flame.
‘The year revolves—and Bishen's Fast invites
‘On Ganges' marge to pay the solemn rites;

145

‘All, boons of Bishen, great Preserver, crave;
‘All, in the sacred flood, their bodies lave:
‘No more, alas!—the multitude no more
‘Bathe in the tide, or kneel upon the shore;
‘No more from towns and villages they throng,
‘Wide o'er the fields, the public paths along:
‘Sad on our ways, by human foot unworn,
‘Stalks the dim form of Solitude forlorn!—
‘From Ava's mountains Morn's bright eyes survey
‘Fair Ganges' streams in many a winding stray:
‘There fleecy flocks on many an island feed;
‘There herds unnumber'd pasture many a mead;
‘(While noxious herbs our last resource supply,
‘And, dearth escaping, by disease we die)
“Take these,” ye cry, “nor more for food complain;
“Take these, and slay like us, and riot on the slain!”

146

‘Ah no! our Law the crime abhorr'd withstands;
‘We die—but blood shall ne'er pollute our hands.
‘O Guardian Genius of this sacred wave!
‘Save, save thy sons, if thine the power to save!’
So Serim spoke—while by the moon's pale beam,
The frequent corse came floating down the stream .
He sigh'd, and rising turn'd his steps to rove
Where wav'd o'er Nizim's vale the coco-grove;
There, 'midst scorch'd ruins, one lone roof remain'd,
And one forlorn inhabitant contain'd.
The sound of feet he near his threshold heard;
Slow from the ground his languid limbs he rear'd:
‘Come, Tyrant, come! perform a generous part,
‘Lift thy keen steel, and pierce this fainting heart!
‘Com'st thou for gold? my gold, alas, I gave,
‘My darling daughter in distress to save!

147

‘Thy faithless brethren took the shining store,
‘Then from my arms the trembling virgin tore!
‘Three days, three nights, I've languish'd here alone—
‘Three foodless days, three nights to sleep unknown!
‘Come, Tyrant, come! perform a generous part,
‘Lift thy keen steel, and pierce this fainting heart!’
“No hostile steps the haunt of Woe invade,”
Serim replied—and, passing where the glade
A length of prospect down the vale display'd,
Another sight of misery met his view;
Another mournful voice his notice drew!
There, near a temple's recent ruin, stood
A white-rob'd Bramin, by the sacred flood:
His wives, his children, dead beside him lay—
Of Hunger these, and those of Grief the prey!
Thrice he with dust defil'd his aged head;
Thrice o'er the stream his hands uplifted spread:

148

‘Hear, all ye Powers to whom we bend in prayer!
‘Hear, all who rule o'er water, earth, and air!
‘'Tis not for them, tho' lifeless there they lie;
‘'Tis not for me, tho' innocent I die;—
‘My Country's breast the tyger, Avarice, rends,
‘And loud to you her parting groan ascends.
‘Hear, all ye Powers to whom we bend in prayer!
‘Hear, all who rule o'er water, earth, and air!
‘Hear, and avenge!—
‘But hark! what voice, from yonder starry sphere,
‘Slides, like the breeze of Evening, o'er my ear?
‘Lo, Birmah's form! on amber clouds enthron'd;
‘His azure robe with lucid emerald zon'd;

149

‘He looks celestial dignity and grace,
‘And views with pity wretched human race!’
“Forbear, rash man! nor curse thy country's foes;
“Frail man to man forgiveness ever owes.
“When Moisasoor the fell to Earth's fair plain
“Brought his detested offspring, Strife and Pain;
“Revenge with them, relentless Fury, came,
“Her bosom burning with infernal flame!
“Her hair sheds horror, like the comet's blaze;
“Her eyes, all ghastly, blast where'er they gaze;
“Her lifted arm a poison'd crice sustains;
“Her garments drop with blood of kindred veins!
“Who asks her aid, must own her endless reign,
“Feel her keen scourge, and drag her galling chain!”
‘The strains sublime in sweetest music close,
‘And all the tumult of my soul compose.

150

‘Yet you, ye oppressors! uninvok'd on you ,
‘Your steps, the steps of Justice will pursue!
‘Go, spread your white sails on the azure main;
‘Fraught with our spoils, your native land regain;
‘Go, plant the grove, and bid the lake expand,
‘And on green hills the pompous palace stand:
‘Let Luxury's hand adorn the gaudy room,
‘Smooth the soft couch, and shed the rich perfume—
‘There Night's kind calm in vain shall sleep invite,
‘While fancied omens warn, and spectres fright:
‘Sad sounds shall issue from your guilty walls,
‘The widow'd wife's, the sonless mother's calls;
‘And infant Rajahs' bleeding forms shall rise,
‘And lift to you their supplicating eyes:

151

‘Remorse intolerable your hearts will feel,
‘And your own hands plunge deep the avenging steel .
‘(For Europe's cowards Heaven's command disdain,
‘To Death's cold arms they fly for ease in vain.)
‘For us, each painful transmigration o'er,
‘Sweet fields receive us to resign no more;
‘Where Safety's fence for ever round us grows,
‘And Peace, fair flower, with bloom unfading blows;
‘Light's Sun unsetting shines with chearing beam;
‘And Pleasure's River rolls its golden stream!’
Enrapt he spoke—then ceas'd the lofty strain,
And Orel's rocks return'd the sound again.—

152

A British ruffian, near in ambush laid,
Rush'd sudden from the cane-isle's secret shade;
‘Go to thy Gods!’ with rage infernal cried,
And headlong plung'd the hapless Sage into the foaming tide.
 

THE following account of British conduct and its consequences, in Bengal and the adjacent provinces, some years ago, will afford a sufficient idea of the subject of the following Eclogue. After describing the monopoly of salt, betel-nut, and tobacco, the Historian thus proceeds: “Money, in this current, came but by drops; it could not quench the thirst of those who waited in India to receive it. An expedient, such as it was, remained to quicken its pace.—The natives could live with little salt, but not without food. Some of the agents saw themselves well situated for collecting the rice into stores; they did so. They knew the Gentoos would rather die, than violate the precepts of their religion by eating flesh. The alternative would therefore be, between giving what they had, and dying. The inhabitants sunk; they that cultivated the land, and saw the harvest at the disposal of others, planted in doubt; scarcity ensued; then the monopoly was easier managed. The people took to roots, and food they had been unaccustomed to eat. Sickness ensued. In some districts, the languid Living left the bodies of their numerous Dead unburied.”

—Short History of English Transactions in the East-Indies, p. 145.

The above quotation sufficiently proves, that the general plan of the following Poem is founded on fact. And, even with regard to its particlar incidents, there can be little doubt, but that, among the varied miseries of millions, every picture of distress, which the Author has drawn, had its original.

The Hindoos worship a God or Genius of the Ganges.

Muxadabat, or Morshedabat, a large city of India, about two hundred miles above Calcutta. The name is commonly pronounced with the accent on the last syllable: Muxadabàt. I have taken the liberty to accommodate this, and some few other words, to my verse, by altering the accentuation; a matter, I apprehend, of little consequence to the English reader.

The famous Mahometan tyrant, Auranzebe, during a famine which prevailed in different parts of India, exerted himself to alleviate the distress of his subjects. “He remitted the taxes that were due; he employed those already collected in the purchase of corn, which was distributed among the poorer sort. He even expended immense sums out of the treasury, in conveying grain, by land and water, into the interior provinces, from Bengal, and the countries which lie on the five branches of the Indus.” Dow's Indostan, vol. iii. p. 340.

“Those who now made the things the English most wanted, were pressed on all sides—by their own necessities, their neighbours, and the agents employed to procure the Company's investments, as the goods sent to Europe are called. These importunities were united, and urged so much, so often, and in such ways, as to produce, among the people in the silk business, instances of their cutting off their thumbs, that the want of them might excuse them from following their trade, and the inconveniences to which they were exposed beyond the common lot of their neighbours.” History of English Transactions in the East-Indies.

Drugah; a Hindoo Goddess. “Drugah Poojah is the grand general feast of the Gentoos, usually visited by all Europeans (by invitation), who are treated by the proprietors of the feast with the fruits and flowers in season, and are entertained every evening with bands of fingers and dancers.” Vide Holwell's Indostan, vol. ii.

Bishen, Bistnoo, or Jaggernaut, is one of the principal Hindoo deities. “This fast, dedicated to him, is called the Sinan Jattra, or general washing in the Ganges; and it is almost incredible to think the immense multitude, of every age and sex, that appears on both sides the river, throughout its whole course, at one and the same time.” Vide Mr. Holwell, vol. ii. p. 124. 128.

The Hindoos frequently cast the bodies of their deceased into the Ganges; with the idea, I suppose, of committing them to the disposal of the God or Genius of the River.

Birmah is a principal Deity of the Hindoos, in whose person they worship the divine attribute of Wisdom. From the best accounts we have of India, the intelligent part of the natives do not worship “stocks and stones,” merely as such; but rather the Supreme Existence, in a variety of attributes or manifestations.

Moisasoor: the Hindoo Author of Evil, similar to our Satan.

Crice, an Indian dagger.

The Reader must readily perceive the propriety of this turn of thought, in a Poem designed to have a moral tendency. There is much difference between a person wishing evil to his enemy, and prefaging that evil will be the consequence of that enemy's crimes. The first is an immoral act of the will; the second, a neutral act of the judgment.

The Hindoo religion strongly prohibits suicide. Mr. Holwell gives us the following passage from the Shastah: “Whosoever, of the delinquent Debtah, shall dare to free himself from the mortal form wherewith I shall inclose him; thou, Sieb, shalt plunge him into the Onderah for ever: he shall not again have the benefit of the fifteen Boboons of purgation, probation, and purification.”


153

LI-PO;

OR, THE GOOD GOVERNOR:

A CHINESE ECLOGUE.


154

[_]

THOSE who are conversant in the best accounts of China, particularly Du Halde's History, must have remarked, that the Chinese government, though arbitrary, is well regulated and mild; and that a prince, in that country, can acquire no glory, but by attention to the welfare of his subjects. On this general idea is founded the plan of the following Poem.


155

Where Honan's hills Kiansi's vale inclose,
And Xifa's lake its glassy level shows;
Li-po's fair island lay—delightful scene!—
With swelling slopes, and groves of every green:
On azure rocks his rich pavilion plac'd,
Rear'd its light front with golden columns grac'd;
High o'er the roof a weeping willow hung,
And jasmine boughs the lattice twin'd among;
In porcelain vases crested amaranth grew,
And starry after, crimson, white, and blue;
Lien-hoa flowers upon the water spread;
Bright shells and corals varied lustre shed;

156

From sparry grottos chrystal drops distill'd
On sounding brass, and air with music fill'd;
Soft thro' the bending canes the breezes play'd,
The rustling leaves continual murmur made;
Gay shoals of gold-fish glitter'd in the tide,
And gaudy birds flew sportive by its side.
The distant prospects well the sight might please,
With pointed mountains, and romantic trees:
From craggy cliffs, between the verdant shades,
The silver rills rush'd down in bright cascades;
O'er terrac'd steeps rich cotton harvests wav'd,
And smooth canals the rice-clad valley lav'd;
Long rows of cypress parted all the land,
And tall pagodas crown'd the river's strand!

157

'Twas here, from business and its pomp and pain,
The pensive master sought relief in vain.
Li-po, mild prince, a viceroy's sceptre sway'd,
And ten fair towns his gentle rule obey'd:
The morn's transactions to his memory came,
And some he found to praise, and some to blame;
Mark'd here how justice, pity there prevail'd,
And how from haste or indolence he fail'd.
Beneath a bower of sweet Ka-fa, whose bloom
Fill'd all the adjacent lawn with rich perfume,
His slaves at distance sat—a beauteous train!—
One wak'd the lute, and one the vocal strain:
They saw his brow with care all clouded o'er,
And wish'd to ease the anxiety he bore.
Amusive tales their soothing lay disclos'd,
Of heroes brave to perils strange expos'd;
Of tyrants proud, from power's high summit cast;
And lovers, long desponding, blest at last.

158

They ceas'd; the warblings softly died away,
Like zephyrs ceasing at the close of day.
‘This scene,’ said he, ‘how fair! to please the sight
‘How Nature's charms, Art's ornaments unite!
‘Those maids, what magic in the strains they sung!
‘Song sweetliest flows from Beauty's tuneful tongue.
‘Yet say, did Tien bid power and wealth be mine,
‘For me my soul to pleasure to resign?
‘What boots that annual, on our fathers' tombs,
‘We strew fair flowers, and offer choice perfumes;
‘Our veneration of their memories shew,
‘And not their steps in Virtue's path pursue?
‘When, from his province as the prince returns,
‘Rich feasts for him are spread, and incense burns,
‘And gilded barks unfold their streamers gay,
‘And following crowds their loud applauses pay;
‘Avails all this, if he from right has swerv'd,
‘And Conscience tells him all is undeserv'd?

159

‘Arise, Li-po! 'tis Duty calls, arise!
‘The sun sinks reddening in Tartarian skies.
‘Yon walls that tower o'er Xensi's neighbouring plain,
‘Yon walls unnumber'd miseries contain.
‘Think, why did Tien superior rank impart,
‘Force of the mind, or feelings of the heart.
‘Last night in sleep, to Fancy's sight display'd,
‘Lay lovelier scenes than e'er my eyes survey'd;
‘With purple shone the hills, with gold the vales,
‘And greenest foliage wav'd in gentlest gales:
‘'Midst palmy fields, with sunshine ever bright,
‘A palace rear'd its walls of silvery white;
‘The gates of pearl a shady hall disclos'd,
‘Where old Confucius' rev'rend form repos'd:
‘Loose o'er his limbs the silk's light texture flow'd,
‘His eye serene etherial lustre show'd:
“My son,” said he, as near his seat I drew,
“Cast round this wonderous spot thy dazzled view;

160

“See how, by lucid founts in myrtle bowers,
“The blest inhabitants consume their hours!
“They ne'er to War, fell Fiend! commission gave
“To murder, ravage, banish, and enslave;
“They ne'er bade Grandeur raise her gorgeous pile,
“With tribute ravish'd from the hand of Toil;
“But parents, guardians of the people reign'd,
“The weak defended, and the poor sustain'd.”
‘Smiling he ceas'd—the vision seem'd to fly,
‘Like fleecy clouds dispersing in the sky.
‘Arise, Li-po! and cast thy robes aside,
‘Disguise thy form, thy well-known features hide;
‘Go forth, yon streets, yon crowded streets pervade,
‘Mix with the throng, and mark who seeks thy aid:
‘There Avarice stern, o'er Poverty bears sway,
‘And Age and Sickness fall his easy prey;
‘There hands that Justice' sacred ensigns bear,
‘Protect the plunderer, and the plunder share;

161

‘Perhaps there Discord's desperate rage prevails,
‘And Wisdom's voice to calm the tumult fails;
‘Perhaps Revenge gives victims to the grave,
‘Perhaps they perish, ere I haste to save!’
He spoke, and rose; but now along the way
That from the city-gate fair-winding lay,
Stretch'd thro' green meads where lowing cattle graz'd,
Amid the lake's wide silver level rais'd,
Led up steep rocks by painted bridges join'd,
Or near thin trees that o'er the tide inclin'd,
Slow tow'rds his palace came a suppliant train;—
Whoe'er his presence sought ne'er sought in vain—
The ready vessel, waiting at his call,
Receiv'd, and bore him to the audience-hall.
 

The Chinese reduce the steep slopes of their hills into little terraces, on which they grow cotton, potatoes, &c. They plant the edges of their terraces with trees, which keep up the ground, and make a very fine appearance.

Their rice-grounds are separated by broad ditches, the sides of which are planted with cypresses. Vide Osbeck's Voyage to China.