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III.

Bring me wine!-bring me'wine! Could my spirit have

bowed,

To grovel in Mammon's dull cave with the crowd,

I had not been thus, unbeloved and unknown

Yet my thoughts and my actions have ALL been my

own:

With a soul, proud and free, then I will not repine— But this heart-this lone heart!-bring me wine!— bring me wine!

December 28th, 1836.

EPIGRAM,

On Miss

THRICE happy the man who gets thee for a wife! Thrice happy, indeed, since he's sure of salvation ! For, if Heaven's to be gained, we are told that this life Must be spent in REPENTANCE and MORTIFICATION. January 20th, 1830.

TRANSLATION FROM VOLTAIRE'S TRAGEDY OF

MAHOMET.

Act 11. Scene 5th.

Zopire, supreme magistrate of Mecca, and priest of the Caäba, or principal Heathen temple in that city, having banished Mahomet, on the first propagation of his novel opinions, the Prophet fled to Medina, which embraced his doctrines. After a war of fifteen years, in which Mahomet captured Zopire's two children, and Zopire slew Mahomet's son, the victorious exile lays siege to Mecca; but preferring from policy to get possession of the town, rather by a reconciliation with Zopire than by apparent artifice or violence, a truce is concluded, during which, on the day previous to its expiration, the following dialogue takes place in an interview between the Prophet and his old adversary.

ZOPIRE.

АH! what a weight of grief o'erpowers my mind!
Thus forced to meet this foe of human kind!

MAHOMET.

Zopire, since by the favouring will of Heaven
At length a sanction to our friendship's given,
In Mahomet's presence blush not to appear—
But speak thy thoughts, unchecked by doubt or fear.
ZOPIRE.

For thee alone I blush, whose artifice,
Ev'n to the brink of ruin's black abyss,

ZOPIRE.

Ah, quel fardeau cruel à ma douleur profonde !
Moi, recevoir ici cet ennemi du monde !

MAHOMET.

Approche, et puisqu' enfin le ciel veut nous unir,
Vois Mahomet sans crainte et parle sans rougir.

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Je rougis pour toi seul, pour toi dont l'artifice
A traîné ta patrie au bord du précipice;

With impious fraud, hath drawn thy native landFor thee alone, whose parracidal hand

Of

every crime here sows the baleful seed

Whose plots in peace new scenes of carnage breed-
Whose name with deadly strife distracts the lives
Of husbands, parents, mothers, daughters, wives-
Who form'st a truce but to contrive new arts
To plant the murderer's poignard in our hearts.
Discord and Falsehood ever follow thee.
Audacious monster of hypocrisy,

Dost thou, thy country's tyrant scourge, appear
T'announce a God and offer peace ev'n here?

MAHOMET.

If thou wert not Zopire, I'd preach to thee
The God I then would feign to speak by me;
The sword and Koran, in my blood-stained hands,
Would bow the silent world to my commands;

Pour toi de qui la main sème ici forfaits,
Et fait naître la guerre au milieu de la paix.
Ton nom seul parmi nous divise les familles,
Les époux, les parens, les mères, et les filles ;
Et le trève pour toi n'est qu'un moyen nouveau,
Pour venir dans nos cœurs enfoncer le couteau.
La discorde civile est partout sur ta trace.
Assemblage inouï de mensonge et d'audace,
Tyran de ton pays, est-ce ainsi qu'en ce lieu
Tu viens donner la paix et m'annoncer un dieu ?
MAHOMET.

Si j'avais à répondre à d'autres qu'à Zopire,

Je ne ferais parler que le Dieu qui m'inspire;
Le glaive et l'Alcoran, dans mes sanglantes mains,
Imposeraient silence au reste des humains;

While, terrible as thunder's awful sound,
My withering voice the boldest would confound.
But now, too great to need delusive arts,
My soul to thee each inmost thought imparts:
Then, since we're thus alone, my purpose know-
I AM ambitious-are not ALL men so?

But ne'er king, pontiff, chief, or citizen yet
Conceived a plan so grand as Mahomet.
Each realm in turn hath gained a splendid name
By laws, by arts, but more by martial fame.
At length Arabia's happy hour's arrived;
Her noble sons, of fame too long deprived,
Have seen, alas! their generous worth obscured-
In sandy wilds ingloriously immured.

But now new days, for victory marked, arise;
From north to south the world in ruin lies!

Ma voix ferait sur eux les effets du tonnerre,

Et je verrais leurs fronts attachés à la terre;
Mais je te parle en homme, et sans rien deguiser,
Je me sens assez grand pour ne pas t'abuser.

Vois quel est Mahomet ; nous sommes seuls; ecoute:
Je suis ambitieux; tout homme l'est, sans doute;
Mais jamais roi, pontife, ou chef, ou citoyen,
Ne conçut un projet aussi grand que le mien.
Chaque peuple à son tour a brillé sur la terre,
Par les lois, par les arts, et surtout par la guerre ;

Le temps de l'Arabie est à la fin venu.

Ce peuple généreux, trop long-temps inconnu,
Laissait dans ses déserts ensevelir sa gloire ;
Voici les jours nouveaux marqués pour la victoire.
Vois du nord au midi l'univers désolé,

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See! bleeding Persia mourns her falling throne;
Egypt laments her ancient grandeur flown ;
And slavery's yoke or servile fear o'erwhelms
The wide extent of India's prostrate realms!
Behold th' imperial walls of Constantine
Eclipsed of former splendour fast decline:
Ev'n the vast empire of majestic Rome,
Hath bent beneath its long impending doom,
And scattered round, dishonoured, crushed, and de
The mighty giant's severed limbs are spread!
Then, let us boldly seize the favouring hour,
O'er the fall'n world to raise Arabia's power!
Another faith, another yoke must bind,
Another deity deceive mankind.

'Twas thus Osiris Egypt's sceptre gained;
'Twas thus in Asia Zoroaster reigned;
Minos in Crete, and Numa thus of old
The vulgar herd in Italy controlled;

La Perse encore sanglante, et son trône ébranlé,
L'Inde esclave et timide, et l'Egypte abaissée,
Des murs de Constantin la splendeur éclipsée;
Vois l'empire romain tombant de toutes parts,
Ce grand corps déchiré, dont les membres epars
Languissent dispersés sans honneur et sans vie;
Sur ces débris du monde élevons l'Arabie.

Il faut un nouveau culte, il faut de nouveaux fers,
Il faut un nouveau dieu pour l'aveugle univers.
En Egypte Osiris, Zoroastre en Asie,

Chez les Crétois Minos, Numa dans l'Italie,

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