'Ho! who art thou?'-'This low salam * Replies of Moslem faith I am.''The burthen ye so gently bear Seems one that claims your utmost care, And doubtless holds some precious freight, My humble bark would gladly wait.'

'Thou speakest sooth; thy skiff unmoor, And waft us from the silent shore; Nay, leave the sail still furl'd, and ply The nearest oar that's scatter'd by, And midway to those rocks where sleep The channell❜d waters dark and deep. Rest from your task-so-bravely done, Our course has been right swiftly run, Yet 'tis the longest voyage, I trow That one of

Sullen it plunged, and slowly sank, The calm wave rippled to the bank; I watch'd it as it sank, methought Some motion from the current caught Bestirr'd it more,-'twas but the beam That chequer'd o'er the living stream: I gazed, till vanishing from view, Like lessening pebble it withdrew, Still less and less, a speck of white That gemm'd the tide, then mock'd the sight; And all its hidden secrets sleep, Known but to Genii of the deep, Which, trembling in their coral caves, They dare not whisper to the waves.

As rising on its purple wing The insect queen of eastern spring,t O'er the emerald meadows of Kashmeer Invites the young pursuer near, And leads him on from flower to flower, A weary chase and wasted hour, Then leaves him, as it soars on high, With panting heart and tearful eye : So Beauty lures the full-grown child, With hue as bright, and wing as wild; A chase of idle hopes and fears, Begun in folly, closed in tears. If won, to equal ills betray'd, Woe waits the insect and the maid; A life of pain, the loss of peace, From infant's play, and man's caprice: The lovely toy so fiercely sought, Hath lost its charm by being caught, For every touch that woo'd its stay Hath brush'd its brightest hues away, Till charm, and hue, and beauty gone, 'Tis left to fly or fall alone.

Inheritance) is supposed to supersede the necessity of good works; they are the worst of a very indifferent brood.

⚫Salam aleikoum! aleikoum salam ! - Peace be with you; be with you peace-the salutation reserved for the faithful: -to a Christian, Urlarula !'-A good journey;' or 'Saban hiresem, saban serula-'Good morn, good even; and sometimes, May your end be happy,' are the usual salutes.

The blue-winged butterfly of Kashmeer, the most rare and beautiful of the species.

With wounded wing, or bleeding breast,
Ah! where shall either victim rest?
Can this with faded pinion soar
From rose to tulip as before?
Or Beauty, blighted in an hour,
Find joy within her broken bower?
No: gayer insects fluttering by
Ne'er droop the wing o'er those that die,
And lovelier things have mercy shown
To every failing but their own,
And every woe a tear can claim
Except an erring sister's shame.

The Mind, that broods o'er guilty woes,
Is like the Scorpion girt by fire,
In circle narrowing as it glows,
The flames around their captive close,
Till inly search'd by thousand throes,
And maddening in her ire,

One sad and sole relief she knows,
The sting she nourish'd for her foes,
Whose venom never yet was vain,
Gives but one pang, and cures all pain,
And darts into her desperate brain.-
So do the dark in soul expire,

Or live like Scorpion girt by fire ;*
So writhes the mind Remorse has riven,
Unfit for earth, undoom'd for heaven,
Darkness above, despair beneath,
Around it flame, within it death!

Black Hassan from the Haram flies,
Nor bends on woman's form his eyes;
The unwonted chase each hour employs,
Yet shares he not the hunter's joys..
Not thus was Hassan wont to fly
When Leila dwelt in his Serai.
Doth Leila there no longer dwell?
That tale can only Hassan tell :
Strange rumours in our city say
Upon that eve she fled away
When Rhamazan's last sun was set,†
And flashing from each minaret
Millions of lamps proclaim'd the feast
Of Bairam through the boundless East.
'Twas then she went as to the bath,
Which Hassan vainly search'd in wrath;
For she was flown her master's rage
In likeness of a Georgian page,
And far beyond the Moslem's power
Had wrong'd him with the faithless Giaour.
Somewhat of this had Hassan deem'd;
But still so fond, so fair she seem'd,
Too well he trusted to the slave
Whose treachery deserved a grave:

Alluding to the dubious suicide of the scorpion, so placed for experiment by gentle philosophers. Some maintain that the position of the sting, when turned towards the head, is merely a convulsive movement; but others have actually brought in the verdict Felo de se. The scorpions are surely interested in a speedy decision of the question; as, if once fairly established as insect Cates, they will probably be allowed to live as long as they think proper, without being martyred for the sake of a hypothesis.

†The cannon at sunset close the Rhamazan.

And on that eve had gone to mosque,
And thence to feast in his kiosk.
Such is the tale his Nubians tell,

Who did not watch their charge too well;
But others say, that on that night,
By pale Phingari's trembling light,
The Giaour upon his jet-black steed
Was seen, but seen alone, to speed
With bloody spur along the shore,
Nor maid nor page behind him bore.

Her eye's dark charm 'twere vain to tell,
But gaze on that of the Gazelle,
It will assist thy fancy well:

As large, as languishingly dark,
But soul beam'd forth in every spark
That darted from beneath the lid,
Bright as the jewel of Giamschid.+
Yea, Soul, and should our Prophet say
That form was nought but breathing clay,
By Allah! I would answer nay;
Though on Al-Sirat's arch I stood,
Which totters o'er the fiery flood,
With Paradise within my view,
And all his Houris beckoning through.
Oh! who young Leila's glance could read,
And keep that portion of his creed,
Which saith that woman is but dust,
A soulless toy for tyrant's lust? §
On her might Muftis gaze, and own
That through her eye the Immortal shone;
On her fair cheek's unfading hue

The young pomegranate's blossoms strew ||
Their bloom in blushes ever new;
Her hair in hyacinthine flow, T
When left to roll its folds below,
As midst her handmaids in the hall
She stood superior to them all,
Hath swept the marble where her feet
Gleam'd whiter than the mountain sleet,
Ere from the cloud that gave it birth
It fell, and caught one stain of earth.

Phingari, the moon.

The celebrated fabulous ruby of Sultan Giamschid, the embellisher of Istakhar; from its splendour, named Schebgerag, 'the torch of night; also 'the cup of the sun, &c. In the first edition, 'Giamschid' was written as a word of three syllables; so D'Herbelot has it; but I am told Richardson reduces it to a dissyllable, and writes Jamshid,' I have left in the text the orthography of the one with the pronunciation of the other.

Al-Sirat, the bridge of breath, narrower than the thread of a famished spider, and sharper than the edge of a sword, over which the Mussulmans must skate into Paradise, to which it is the only entrance; but this is not the worst, the river beneath being hell itself, into which, as may be expected, the unskilful and tender of foot contrive to tumble with a 'facilis descensus Averni,' not very pleasing in prospect to the next passenger. There is a shorter cut downwards for the Jews and Christians.

SA vulgar error; the Koran allots at least a third of Paradise to well-behaved women; but by far the greater number of Mussulmans interpret the text their own way, and exclude their moieties from heaven. Being enemies to Pla tonics, they cannot discern any fitness of things' in the souls of the other sex, conceiving them to be superseded by the Houris.

An oriental simile, which may, perhaps, though fairly stolen, be deemed 'plus Arabe qu'en Arabie."

Hyacinthine, in Arabic Sunbul;' as common a thought in the Lastern pocts as it was among the Grecks.

The cygnet nobly walks the water;
So moved on earth Circassia's daughter,
The loveliest bird of Franguestan! *
As rears her crest the ruffled Swan,

And spurns the waves with wings of pride, When pass the steps of stranger man

Along the banks that bound her tide;
Thus rose fair Leila's whiter neck :-
Thus arm'd with beauty would she check
Intrusion's glance, till Folly's gaze
Shrunk from the charms it meant to praise.
Thus high and graceful was her gait;
Her heart as tender to her mate;

Her mate-stern Hassan, who was he?
Alas! that name was not for thee!

Stern Hassan hath a journey ta'en
With twenty vassals in his train,
Each arm'd, as best becomes a man,
With arquebuss and ataghan;
The chief before, as deck'd for war,
Bears in his belt the scimitar
Stain'd with the best of Arnaut blood,
When in the pass the rebels stood,
And few return'd to tell the tale
Of what befell in Parne's vale.

The pistols which his girdle bore

Were those that once a pacha wore,

Which still, though gemm'd and boss'd with Even robbers tremble to behold.

[gold,

Each side the midway path there lay
Small broken crags of granite grey,
By time, or mountain lightning, riven
From summits clad in mists of heaven;
For where is he that hath beheld
The peak of Liakura unveil'd?

They reach the grove of pine at last : Bismillah! now the peril's past;

For yonder view the opening plain,
And there we'll prick our steeds amain :'
The Chiaus spake, and as he said,
A bullet whistled o'er his head;
The foremost Tartar bites the ground!
Scarce had they time to check the rein,
Swift from their steeds the riders bound;

But three shall never mount again :
Unseen the foes that gave the wound,
The dying ask revenge in vain.
With steel unsheath'd, and carbine bent,
Some o'er their courser's harness leant,
Half shelter'd by the steed;
Some fly behind the nearest rock,
And there await the coming shock,
Nor tamely stand to bleed
Beneath the shaft of foes unseen,
Who dare not quit their craggy screen.
Stern Hassan only from his horse
Disdains to light, and keeps his course,
Till fiery flashes in the van
Proclaim too sure the robber-clan
Have well secured the only way
Could now avail the promised prey;
Then curl'd his very beard with ire,+
And glared his eye with fiercer fire;
'Though far and near the bullets hiss,
I've 'scaped a bloodier hour than this.'
And now the foe their covert quit,
And call his vassals to submit ;
But Hassan's frown and furious word
Are dreaded more than hostile sword,
Nor of his little band a man
Resign'd carbine or ataghan,
Nor raised the craven cry, Amaun !+
In fuller sight, more near and near,
The lately ambush'd foes appear,
And, issuing from the grove, advance
Some who on battle-charger prance.
Who leads them on with foreign brand,
Far flashing in his red right hand?
'Tis he! 'tis he! I know him now;
I know him by his pallid brow;

Bismillah-In the name of God;' the commencement of all the chapters of the Koran but one, and of prayer and thanksgiving.

1 A phenomenon not uncommon with an angry Mussulman. In 1809, the Capitan Pacha's whiskers at a diplomatic audience were no less lively with indignation than a tiger cat's, to the horror of all the dragomans; the portentous mustachios twisted, they stood erect of their own accord, and were expected every moment to change their colour, but at last condescended to subside, which, probably, saved more heads than they contained hairs.

Amaun,' quarter, pardon.

I know him by the evil eye *
That aids his envious treachery;
I know him by his jet-black barb :
Though now array'd in Arnaut garb,
Apostate from his own vile faith,
It shall not save him from the death:
'Tis he! well met in any hour,
Lost Leila's love, accursed Giaour!'

As rolls the river into ocean, In sable torrent wildly streaming;

As the sea-tide's opposing motion,
In azure column proudly gleaming,
Beats back the current many a rood,
In curling foam and mingling flood,
While eddying whirl, and breaking wave,
Roused by the blasts of winter, rave;
Through sparkling spray, in thundering
The lightnings of the water's flash [clash,
In awful whiteness o'er the shore,
That shines and shakes beneath the roar ;
Thus-as the stream and ocean greet,
With waves that madden as they meet-
Thus join the bands, whom mutual wrong,
And fate, and fury drive along.
The bickering sabres' shivering jar,

And pealing wide or ringing near
Its echoes on the throbbing ear,
The death-shot hissing from afar;
The shock, the shout, the groan of war,
Reverberate along that vale,

More suited to the shepherd's tale :
Though few the numbers-theirs the strife,
That neither spares nor speaks for life!
Ah! fondly youthful hearts can press,
To seize and share the dear caress;
But Love itself could never pant
For all that Beauty sighs to grant,
With half the fervour Hate bestows
Upon the last embrace of foes,
When grappling in the fight they fold
Those arms that ne'er shall lose their hold:
Friends meet to part; Love laughs at faith;
True foes, once met, are join'd till death!

With sabre shiver'd to the hilt,
Yet dripping with the blood he spilt;
Yet strain'd within the sever'd hand
Which quivers round that faithless brand;
His turban far behind him roll'd,
And cleft in twain its firmest fold;
His flowing robe by falchion torn,
And crimson as those clouds of morn

That, streak'd with dusky red, portend
The day shall have a stormy end;
A stain on every bush that bore

A fragment of his palampore; t

His breast with wounds unnumber'd riven, His back to earth, his face to heaven,

Monastic Zitza! from thy shady brow.
Thou small, but favour'd spot of holy ground!
Where'er we gaze, around, above, below,
What rainbow tints, what magic charms are
found!

Rock, river, forest, mountain all abound.
And bluest skies that harmonize the whole :
Beneath, the distant torrent's rushing sound
Tells where the volumed cataract doth roll
Between those hanging rocks, that shock yet
please the soul.

Nicopolis, whose ruins are most extensive, is at some distance from Actium, where the wall of the Hippodrome sur vives in a few fragments. These ruins are large masses of brickwork, the bricks of which are joined by interstices of mortar, as large as the bricks themselves, and equally durable + According to Pouqueville, the lake of Yanina: but Pouqueville is always out.

The celebrated Ali Pacha. Of this extraordinary man there is an incorrect account in Pouqueville's Travels.

§ Five thousand Suliotes, among the rocks and in the castle of Suli, withstood thirty thousand Albanians for eighteen years: the castle at last was taken by bribery. In this con fest there were several acts performed not unworthy of the better days of Greece.

The convent and village of Zitza are four hours' journey from Joannina, or Yanina, the capital of the pachalic. In ti valley the river Kalamas (once the Acheron) flows, and not far from Zitza forms a fine cataract. The situation is perhaps the finest in Greece, though the approach to Delvinachi and parts of Acarnania and Atolia may contest the palm. Delphi, Parnassus, and, in Attica, even Cape Colonna and Port Raphti, are very inferior; as also every scene in Ionia, or the Troad: I am almost inclined to add, the approach to Con stantinople; but from the different features of the last, a coa parison can hardly be made.

There from thy daughter, sister, wife,
At midnight drain the stream of life;
Yet loathe the banquet which perforce
Must feed thy livid living corse :
Thy victims, ere they yet expire,
Shall know the demon for their sire,
As cursing thee, thou cursing them,
Thy flowers are wither'd on the stem.
But one that for thy crime must fall,
The youngest, most beloved of all,
Shall bless thee with a father's name-
That word shall wrap thy heart in flame!
Yet must thou end thy task, and mark
Her cheek's last tinge, her eye's last spark,
And the last glassy glance must view
Which freezes o'er its lifeless blue;
Then with unhallow'd hand shall tear
The tresses of her yellow hair,
Of which in life a lock when shorn
Affection's fondest pledge was worn,
But now is borne away by thee,
Memorial of thine agony!

Wet with thine own best blood shall drip
Thy gnashing tooth and haggard lip;
Then stalking to thy sullen grave,
Go-and with Gouls and Afrits rave;
Till these in horror shrink away
From spectre more accursed than they!

'How name ye yon lone Caloyer?

His features I have scann'd before In mine own land: 'tis many a year, Since, dashing by the lonely shore, I saw him urge as fleet a steed As ever served a horseman's need. But once I saw that face, yet then It was so mark'd with inward pain, I could not pass it by again; It breathes the same dark spirit now, As death were stamp'd upon his brow.' ''Tis twice three years at summer tide Since first among our freres he came; And here it soothes him to abide

For some dark deed he will not name. But never at our vesper prayer, Nor e'er before confession chair, Kneels he, nor recks he when arise Incense or anthem to the skies, But broods within his cell alone, His faith and race alike unknown. The sea from Paynim land he crost, And here ascended from the coast; Yet seems he not of Othman race, But only Christian in his face : I'd judge him some stray renegade, Repentant of the change he made, Save that he shuns our holy shrine, Nor tastes the sacred bread and wine.

The freshness of the face, and the wetness of the lip with blood, are the never-failing signs of a Vampire. The stories told in Hungary and Greece of these foul feeders are singular, and some of them most incredibly attested.

Great largess to these walls he brought, And thus our abbot's favour bought; But were I prior, not a day

Should brook such stranger's further stay,
Or pent within our penance cell
Should doom him there for aye to dwell.
Much in his visions mutters he

Of maiden whelm'd beneath the sea:
Of sabres clashing, foemen flying,
Wrongs avenged, and Moslem dying.
On cliff he hath been known to stand,
And rave as to some bloody hand,
Fresh sever'd from its parent limb,
Invisible to all but him,
Which beckons onward to his grave,
And lures to leap into the wave.'

Dark and unearthly is the scowl
That glares beneath his dusky cowl:
The flash of that dilating eye
Reveals too much of times gone by;
Though varying, indistinct its hue,
Oft will his glance the gazer rue,
For in it lurks that nameless spell,
Which speaks, itself unspeakable,
A spirit yet unquell'd and high,
That claims and keeps ascendancy;
And like the bird whose pinions quake,
But cannot fly the gazing snake,
Will others quail beneath his look,
Nor 'scape the glance they scarce can brook.
From him the half-affrighted Friar
When met alone would fain retire,
As if that high and bitter smile
Transferr'd to others fear and guile :
Not oft to smile descendeth he,
And when he doth, 'tis sad to see
That he but mocks at Misery.

How that pale lip will curl and quiver!
Then fix once more as if for ever;
As if his sorrow or disdain
Forbade him e'er to smile again.
Well were it so-such ghastly mirth,
From joyaunce ne'er derived its birth.
But sadder still it were to trace
What once were feelings in that face:
Time hath not yet the features fix'd,
But brighter traits with evil mix'd ;
And there are hues not always faded,
Which speak a mind not all degraded,
Even by the crimes through which it waded,
The common crowd but see the gloom
Of wayward deeds, and fitting doom;
The close observer can espy

A noble soul, and lineage high:
Alas! though both bestow'd in vain,
Which Grief could change, and Guilt could
stain,

It was no vulgar tenement

To which such lofty gifts were lent,
And still with little less than dread

On such the sight is riveted..