Y .

E Perfian maids, attend your poet's lays,

And hear how shepherds pass their golden days.
Not all are blest, whom fortune's hand sustains
With wealth in courts, nor all that haunt the plains :
Well may your hearts believe the truths I teli ;
'Tis virtue makes the bliss, where'er we dwell.

Thus Selim fung, by facred Truth infpir'd;
Nor praife, but fuch as Truth beftow'd, defir'd:
Wife in himself, his meaning fongs convey'd
Informing morals to the fhepherd maid;

Or taught the fwains that fureft blifs to find,
What groves nor ftreams beftow, a virtuous mind.
When fweet and blushing, like a virgin bride,
The radiant morn refum'd her orient pride,
When wanton gales along the valleys play,

Breathe on each flower, and bear their fweets away;
By Tigris' wandring waves he fat, and fung
This useful leffon for the fair and young.

Ye Perfian dames, he faid, to you belong,
Well may they please, the morals of my fong:
No fairer maids, I truft, than you are found,
Grac'd with foft arts, the peopled world around!
The morn that lights you, to your loves fupplies
Each gentler ray delicious to your eyes :
For you thefe flowers her fragrant hands beftow,
And yours the love that kings delight to know.
Yet think not these, all beauteous as they are,
The best kind bleffings heaven can grant the fair!
Who trust alone in beauty's feeble ray,

Boaft but the worth Baffora's pearls display;

Drawn from the deep we own their furface bright,
But, dark within, they drink no luftrous light:
Such are the maids, and fuch the charms they boat,
By fenfe unaided, or to virtue loft,

Self-flattering fex! your hearts believe in vain

That love fhall blind, when once he fires the swain;

Or

Or hope a lover by your faults to win,
As fpots on ermin beautify the skin :
Who feeks fecure to rule, be firft her care
Each fofter virtue that adorns the fair;
Each tender paffion man delights to find,
The lov'd perfections of a female mind!

Bleft were the days, when wifdom held her reign,
And shepherds fought her on the silent plain;
With Truth fhe wedded in the fecret grove,
Immortal Truth, and daughters bless'd their love.
O hafte, fair maids! ye Virtues come away,
Sweet Peace and Plenty lead you on your way !
The balmy fhrub, for you shall love our fhore,
Ind excell'd or Araby no more.

BY

Loft to our fields, for fo the fates ordain,

The dear deferters fhall return again.

Come thou, whofe thoughts as limpid springs are clear,

To lead the train, fweet modefty appear:

Here make thy court amidst our rural scene,

And shepherd girls fhall own thee for their queen.
With thee be Chastity, of all afraid,

Diftrufting all, a wife fufpicious maid;

But man the moft-not more the mountain doe

Holds the swift falcon for her deadly foe.

Cold is her breaft, like flowers that drink the dew;

A filken veil conceals her from the view.

No wild defires amidst thy train be known,
But Faith, whofe heart is fix'd on one alone:
Defponding Meekness, with her down-caft eyes,
And friendly Pity, full of tender fighs;

And

And love the laft: by these your hearts approve,
These are the virtues that muft lead to love.
Thus fung the fwain; and ancient legends say,
The maids of Bagdat verified the lay:
Dear to the plains, the Virtues came along,
The shepherds lov'd, and Selim blefs'd his fong.

**}**}**}**)

ECLOGUE II.

HASSAN; OR, THE CAMEL-DRIVER.

SCENE, THE DESERT.

TIME, MID-DAY.

IN

filent horror o'er the boundless wafte

The driver Haffan with his camels paft:

One cruife of water on his back he bore,
And his light fcrip contain'd a scanty store;
A fan of painted feathers in his hand,
To guard his fhaded face from fcorching fand.
The fultry fun had gain'd the middle sky,
And not a tree, and not an herb was nigh;
The beafts, with pain, their dufty way purfue,
Shrill roar'd the winds, and dreary was the view!

1

With defperate forrow wild, th' affrighted man
Thrice figh'd, thrice ftruck his breast, and thus began :

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

" When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!**
Ah ! little thought I of the blafting wind,
The thirst or pinching hunger that I find!
Bethink thee, Hafian, where shall Thirft affwage,
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 tuils, 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 bleft, or verdant vales bestow :
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 firit 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 repay'd by thee?
Ah! why was ruin so attractive made,
Or why fond man so easily betray'd ?

Why