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Sweet as the cloister'd virgin's vesper hymn,
She drew back,
• Thou then art come, my first and dearest friend!» The well known voice of Madelon began; « Thou then art come! and was thy pilgrimage So short on earth 2 and was it painful too, Painful and short as mine But blessed they Who from the crimes and miseries of the world Early escape!»
« Nay,” Theodore replied, « She hath not yet fulfill'd her mortal work. Permitted visitant from earth she comes To see the seat of rest, and oftentimes In sorrow shall her soul remember this, And, patient of her transitory woe, Partake the anticipated peace again. » - Soon be that work perform'd on the Maid exclaim'd : « O Madelon! O Theodore! my soul, Spurning the cold communion of the world, Will dwell with you! but I shall patiently, Yea even with joy, endure the allotted ills Of which the memory in this better state Shall heighten bliss. That hour of agony, When, Madelon, I felt thy dying grasp, And from thy forehead wiped the dews of death, The very horrors of that hour assume A shape that now delights.”
« O carliest friend!
He best can feel, who for a dear friend dead
Fair was the scene around; an ample vale Whose mountain circle at the distant verge Lay soften’d on the sight; the near ascent
Rose bolder up, in part abrupt and bare,
So Theodore address'd the Maid of Arc;
- • Even such, so bless'd,
Blasts like the pestilence; and Poverty,
The state of bliss which Ignorance betray'd.»
• Oh age of happiness!» the Maid exclaim’d, | Roll fast thy current, Time, till that bless'd age Arrive and happy thou, my Theodore, Permitted thus to see the sacred depths of wisdom!” | • Such,” the blessed spirit replied, • Beloved! such our lot: allowed to range The vast infinity, progressive still In knowledge and increasing blessedness, This our united portion. Thou hast yet A little while to sojourn amongst men: I will be with thee! there shall not a breeze Wanton around thy temples, on whose wing I will not hover near! and at that hour When from its fleshly sepulchre let loose, Thy phoenix soul shall soar, O best-beloved! I will be with thee in thine agonies, And welcome thee to life and happiness, Elernal infinite beatitude!»
He spake, and led her near a straw-roofd cot,
• Glory to thee whose vivifying power Pervades all Nature's universal frame! Glory to thee, Creator Love! to thee, Parent of all the smiling Charities,
| That strew the thorny path of life with flowers!
Glory to thee, Preserver! To thy praise
Note 1, page 79, col. 1.
Erudit at placide humanam per somnia mentem,
Ne sorte humana ratio divina coiret. Sup. Lucani.
Note 2, page 79, col. 1.
I have met with a singular tale to illustrate this spiritual theory of dreams:–Guntrum, king of the Franks, was liberal to the poor, and he himself experienced the wonderful effects of divine liberality. One day as he was hunting in a forest he was separated from his companions, and arrived at a little stream of water with only one comrade. Here he found himself oppressed by drowsiness, and reclining his head upon the servant's lap went to sleep. The servant saw a little beast creep out of the mouth of his sleeping master, and go immediately to the streamlet, which it vainly attempted to cross; he drew his sword and laid it across the water, over which the little beast past and crept into a hole of a mountain on the opposite side; from whence it made its appearance again in an hour, and returned by the same means into the king's mouth. The king then awakened, and told his companion he had dreamt that he was arrived upon the bank of au immense river, which he had crossed by a bridge of iron, and from thence came to a mountain in which a great quantity of gold was con
cealed. The servant then related what he had beheld, and
they both went to examine the mountain, where upon diff&ing they discovered an immense weight of gold.—I stumbled upon this tale in a book entitled Sphinx, Theologico-Philosophica. Autore Johanne Hiedfeldio, Ecclesiaste Ebersbachiano. 1621.
The same story is in Matthew of Westminster; it is added that Guntrum applied the treasures thus found to pious uses. For the truth of this theory there is the evidence of a monkish miracle. When Thurcillus was about to follow St Julian and visit the world of souls, his guide said to him, “Let thy body rest in the bed, for thy spirit only is about to depart with me; and lest the body should appear dead, I will send into it a vital breath.” The body, however, by a strange sympathy, was affected like the spirit; for when the foul and fetid smoke which arose from the tithes withheld on earth had nearly suffocated Thurcillus, and made him cough twice, those who were near his body said that it coughed twice about the same time.—Matthew Paris.
Note 3, page 81, col. 1.
These lines strongly resemble a passage in the Pharomnida of William Chamberlayne, who has told an interesting story in uncouth rhymes, and mingled sublimity of thought and beauty of expression with the quaintest conceits, and most awkward inversions. On a rock more high Than Nature's common surface, she beholds the mansion house of Fate, which thus unfolds Its sacred mysteries. A trine within A quadrate placed, both these encompast in A perfect circle was its form; but what Its matter was, for us to wonder at, Is undiscover'd left. A tower there stands At every angle, where Time's fatal hands The impartial Parce dwell; it the first she sees Clotho the kindest of the Destinies, From immaterial essences to cull The seeds of life, and of them frame the wool For Lachesis to spin; about her flie Myriad. of souls, that yet want flesh to lie Warm'd with their functions in, whose strength bestows That power by which man ripe for misery grows.
Her next of objects was that glorious tower
All g sent thither by destructive sin.
It is possible that I may have written from the recollection of this passage. The conceit is the same, and I willingly attribute it to Chamberlayne, a poet to whom I am indebted for many hours of delight. Note 5, page 82, col. 2. Shall the huge camel pass. I had originally written cable instead of camel. The alteration would not be worth noticing were it not for
the circumstance which occasioned it. Facilius elephas
most descriptions of hell, and perhaps owes its origin
to the fate of Crassus. Note 7, page 84, col. 2. Titus was here. During the siege of Jerusalem, “ the Roman commander, with a generous clemency, that in separable attendant on true heroism, laboured incessantly, and to the very last moment, to preserve the place. With this view, he again and again intreated the tyrants to surrender and save their lives. With the same view also, after carrying the second wall, the siege was intermitted four days: to rouse their fears, prisoners to the number of five hundred or more, were crucified daily before the walls; till space, Josephus says, was wanting for the crosses, and crosses for the captives.”— Chiarton's Bampton Lectures. If any of my readers should enquire why Titus Vespasian, the delight of mankind, is Placed in such a situation – I answer, for this instance of a his generous clemency, that in separable attendant on true heroism 'w Note 8, page 86, col. 2. Inhaled the cool delight. In the cabinet of the Alhambra where the queen used to dress and say her prayers, and which is still an enchanting sight, there is a slab of unarble full of small holes, through which perfumes exhaled that were kept constantly burning beneath. The doors and windows are disposed so as to afford the most agreeable prospects, and to throw a soft yet lively light upon the eyes. Fresh currents of air too renew every instant the delicious coolness of this apartment.—From the sketch of the History of the Spanish Moors, prefixed to Florian's Gonsalvo of Cordova. Note 9, page 87, col. 1. The snow-drop hung its head. The grave matron does not perceive how time has impaired her charms, but decks her faded bosom with the same snow-drop that seems to grow on the breas of the virgin.—P. H.
PREFA CE. In the continuation of the Arabian Tales, the Domdaniel is mentioned; a Seminary for evil Magicians, under the Roots of the Sea. From this seed the present tomance has grown. Let me not be supposed to prefer the rhythm in which it is written, abstractedly considered, to the regular blank verse; the noblest measure, in my judgment, of which our admirable language is | capable. For the following Pocm I have preferred it, because it suits the varied subject; it is the Arabesque ornament of an Arabian tale. The dramatic sketches of Dr Sayers, a volume which no lover of poetry will recollect without pleasure, indured me, when a young versifier, to practise in this rhythm. I felt that while it gave the poet a wider range of expression, it satisfied the ear of the reader. It were easy to make a parade of learning, by enumerating the various feet which it admits; it is only needful to observe, that no two lines are employed in sequence which can be read into one. Two six-syllable lines, it will Perhaps be answered, compose an Alexandrine : the truth is, that the Alexandrine, when harmonious, is composed of two six-syllable lines. One advantage this metre assuredly possesses, ... the dullet reader cannot distort it into discord: he may read it prosaically, but its flow and fall will still be perceptible. Yerse is not enough favoured by the English reader: Perhaps this is owing to the obtrusiveness, the regular Jews—harp twing-twang, of what has been foolishly called heroic measure. I do not wish the improvisatore tune;... but something that denotes the sense of harmony, something like the accent of feeling... like the tone which every Poet necessarily gives to Poetry. Cintra, October, 1800.
LuciaN, Quomodo Hist. Scribenda.
No tear reliev'd the burthen of her heart; Stunn'd with the heavy woe, she felt like one Half-waken'd from a midnight dream of blood. But sometimes when the boy Would wet her hand with tears, And, looking up to her six'd countenance, Sob out the name of Mora ER, then did she Utter a feeble groan, At length collecting, Zeinab turn'd her eyes To heaven, exclaiming, a Praised be the Lord! Ile gave, he takes away!? The Lord our God is good!»
She cast her eyes around, I'amine and Thirst were there . . And then the wretched Mother bowed her head, And wept upon her child.
XII. A sudden cry of wonder From Thalaba arous'd her; She rais'd her head, and saw Where high in air a stately palace rose. Amid a grove embower'd Stood the prodigious pile; Trees of such ancient majesty Tower'd not on Yemen's happy hills, Nor crown'd the stately brow of Lebanon. Fabric so vast, so lavishly enrich'd, For Idol, or for Tyrant, never yet Rais'd the slave race of man, In Rome, nor in the elder Babylon, Nor old Persepolis, Nor where the family of Greece tlymnod Eleutherian Jove. Here studding azure tabletures 3 And ray'd with feeble light, Star-like the ruby and the diamond shone: liere on the golden towers The yellow moon-beam lay, Here with white splendour floods the silver wall. Less wonderous pile and less magnificent Sennamar built at Hirah,” though his art Seald with one stone the ample edifice, And made its colours, like the serpent's skin, Play with a changeful beauty: him, its Lord, Jealous lest after effort might surpass The now unequall'd palace, from its height Dash'd on the pavement down.
Xiii. They enter d, and through aromatic paths Wondering they went along. At length, upon a mossy bank, Beneath a tall mimosa's shade, Which o'er him beat its living canopy, They saw a man reclin'd. Young he appeard, for on his cheek there shone The morning glow of health, And the brown beard curl d close around his chiu. He slept, but at the sound Of coming feet awaking, fix’d his eyes In wonder, on the wanderer and her child. * Forgive us," Zeinab cried, “ Distress hath made us bold. Relieve the widow and the fatherless! Blessed are they who succour the distrest; For them hath God appointed Paradise.”