صور الصفحة

Like plants, where the Simoom hath past,
At once falls black and withering!
The sun went down on many a brow

Which, full of bloom and freshness then, Is rankling in the pest-house now,

And ne'er will feel that sun again.
And, oh! to see the unburied heaps,
On which the lonely moonlight sleeps-
The very vultures turn away,
And sicken at so foul a prey !
Only the fierce hyena stalks
Through the city's desolate walks
At midnight, and his carnage plies :-

Woe to the half-dead wretch, who meets The glaring of those large blue eyes,

Amid the darkness of the streets !


She now has reach'd that dismal spot,

Where, some hours since, his voice's tono
Had come to soothe her fears and ills,
Sweet as the angel Israfil's,
When every leaf on Eden's tree
Is trembling to his minstrelsy-
Yet now-oh, now, he is not nigh. -

" Hafed ! my Hafed !-if it be
Thy will, thy doom this night to die,

Let me but stay to die with thee,
And I will bless thy loved name,
'Till the last life-breath leave this frame.
Oh! let our lips, our cheeks be laid
But near each other while they fade;
Let us but mix our parting breaths,
And I can die ten thousand deaths !
You, too, who hurry me away
So cruelly, one moment stay-

Oh! stay—one moment is not much-
He yet may come for him I pray-
Hafed! dear Hafed !"4—all the way

I The poison wind of the desert, taking its colour from the sand which it raises in its course.

2 « The Ghebers (a word said by Gibbon to give origin to the Turkish term Giaour, an infidel), the Persians of the old religion," who, on the irruption of the Arab Saracens to conquer their country and extinguish their faith, either resisted or fled into foreign countries. Their descendants, under the title of Parsees, are numerous in the north-west of India.

3 “ The angel, who has the most melodious voice of all God's creatures." --Sale.

« In Mr Moore's love pictures, beautifully as they are adapted to the phases of the passion in the clines where the scene is placed, we miss the higher and nobler attributes with which the emotion is invested in the writings of many of his cotemporaries.

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In wild lamentings, that would touch
A heart of stone, she shriek'd his name
To the dark woods—no Hafed came :-
No-hapless pair—you've look'd your last :-

Your hearts should both have broken then:
The dream is o'er—your doom is cast-

You'll never meet on earth again I


Farewell— farewell to thee, Araby's daughter!

(Thus warbled a Peri beneath the dark sea); No pearl ever lay, under Oman's green water,

More pure in its shell than thy spirit in thee.

Oh! fair as the sea-flower close to thee growing,

How light was thy heart till love's witchery came,
Like the wind of the south? o'er a summer lute blowing,

And hush'd all its music, and wither'd its frame!

But long, upon Araby's green sunny highlands,

Shall maids and their lovers remember the doom
Of her who lies sleeping among the Pearl Islands,

With nought but the sea-stara to light up her tomb.

Nor shall Iran, 3 beloved of her Hero I forget thee

Though tyrants watch over her tears as they start,
Close, close by the side of that Hero she'll set thee,

Embalm'd in the innermost shrine of her heart.

Farewell—be it ours to embellish thy pillow

With every thing beauteous that grows in the deep ;
Each flower of the rock, and each gem of the billow,

Shall sweeten thy bed and illumine thy sleep.

Around thee shall glisten the loveliest amber

That ever the sorrowing sea-bird has wept ;*
With many a shell, in whose hollow-wreathed chamber

We, Peris of ocean, by moonlight have slept.

We'll dive where the gardens of coral lie darkling,

And plant all the rosiest stems at thy head;

I “ This wind (the Samoor) so softens the strings of lutes, that they can never be tuned while it lasts."-Stephen's Persia.

2 " One of the greatest curiosities found in the Persian Gulf ks a fish which the English call star-fish. It is circular, and at night very luminous, resembling the full moon surrounded by rays. "- Mirza-Abu-Taleb. The gulf yields a prolific pearl fishery.

3 The native appellation of Persia

4 “ Some naturalists have imagined that amber is a concretion of the tears of birds." See Trevoux, Chambers.

We'll seek where the sands of the Caspian' are sparkling,

And gather their gold to strew over thy bed.

Farewell—farewell-until pity's sweet fountain

Is lost in the hearts of the fair and the brave,
They'll weep for the Chieftain who died on that mountain,

They'll weep for the Maiden wbo sleeps in this wave.


(1784—1842.) This poet, novelist, and miscellaneous writer, was born of comparatirely humble parentage in Dumfries-shire. He began life as a stone mason ; but his early literary ability was such that, being introduced to Cromek, the editor of “ Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song," and undertaking to procure contributions to that work, he sent to the editor, as genuine remains, compositions of his own. These form the bulk of Cromek's collection. The cheat was long unsuspected; but the suspicious sagacity of the Ettrick Shepherd and others, especially Professor Wilson (see Blackwood's Magazine, Dec. 1819), ultimately demonstrated the imposition, much to the reputation of the real author.

Mr Cunningham repaired in 1810 to London, and, obtaining an appointment of trust in the sculptor Chantrey's studio, he settled himself here for life. In this congenial position of comfort and independence, he possessed opportunities for the employment of his active pen, and for intercourse with men of kindred genius. His warm heart, his honest, upright, and independent character, attracted the affectionate esteem and respect of all who enjoyed his acquaintance. He died in London in 1842.

His larger works are, the “ Maid of Elvar," a species of epic in Spenserian stanzas, illustrative of Dumfries-shire in days of yore ; and “Sir Marmaduke Maxwell," a wild tumultuous collection of Border superstitions. His reputation rests chiefly on his smaller pieces, which are airy, natural, and intensely Scotch ; vigorous and even splendid in their higher moods, affectingly pathetic in their softer strains. His novels, “ Paul Jones," &c., are full of glittering description, and exaggerated and unnatural character,

The sun rises bright in France,

And fair sets he ;
But he has tint the blythe blink he had

In my ain countree. 1 "The bay of Kieselarke, which is otherwise called the Golden Bay, the sand whereof shines as fire."-Stray. 2 Comp. Collins, Dirge on Thomson

" And mourned till pity's self be dead." ... The explanatory notes to the extracts from Moore are chiefly the author's. 8 " The Sun rises bright in France' is a sweet old thing, very popular both in Scotland and England. I got some stanzas from Surtees of Mainsforth: but those printed are from Cromek. It is uncertain to what period the song refers."-Hogg, Jac. Rel., ii. 365.

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1 I look upon the alteration of " It's hame and it's hame," and "A wet sheet and Bowing sea," as among the best songs going.-Sir Walter Scott, Diary, 14th Nov. 1826.

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Op H. K. White, it may be indeed mid in Byron's beautiful words

" No lovelier spirit than thine

Ever burst' from its mortal control,

In the orbs of the blessed to shine." He was born in Nottingham : like Akenside, he was the son of a butcher : and, after attempting his father's trade, and that of stocking weaving, his taste and ambition led him to place himself in a more adrantageous situation, by entering an attorney's office. His verses attracted the notice of generous patrons, particularly Mr Southey. At the age of serenteen he published a volume of poetry, the profits of which were to supply the means of accomplishing his great ambition, an education at Cambridge, to qualify him for the ecclesiastical functions. He was rapidly acquiring distinction, when the severity of his studies terminated his life. Amidst the savage satire of the “ English Bards," &c., it is pleasant to see Byron writing thus

“ Unhappy White, when life was in its spring,
And thy young muse just waved her joyous wing,
The spoiler swet that soaring lyre away,
Which else had sounded an immortal lay.
Oh, what a noble heart was here undone,
When science' self destroyed her favourite son.

'Twas thine own genius gave the final blow,
And helped to plant the wound that laid thee low:
Bo the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain,
No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart,

And winged the dart that quivered to his beart." Kirke White's life and death were alike beautiful: his poetry of course is that of promise, but that promise is very rich. It “abounds," says Byron, * in such beauties, as must impress the reader with the liveliest regret that 80 short a period was allotted to talents which would have dignified even the sacred functions he was destined to assume." His poems are, “ Clifton Grove," a descriptive piece founded on the manner of Denham, Pope, and Goldsmith ; an imperfect epic, “ The Christiad," and a considerable number of miscellaneous pieces, odes, ballads, &c.


Mild offspring of a dark and sullen sire!
Whose modest form, so delicately fine,

Was nursed in whirling storins,
And cradled in the winds.

Thee, when young Spring first question'd Winter's sway,
And dared the sturdy blusterer to the fight,

Thee on this bank he threw
To mark his victory.

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