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النشر الإلكتروني

Low in the dust the beauteous corse I plac'd,

Bedew'd and soft with many a falling tear ;
With fable yew the rising turf I grac’d,

And bade the cypress mourn in silence near.

Oft as bright morn's all-searching eye returns,

Full to my view the fatal spot is brought;
Thro' sleepless night my haunted fpirit mourns,

No gloom can hide me from distracting thought.

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When, spotless victim, shall my form decay !

This guilty łoad, say, when shall I refign!
When shall my spirit wing her chearless way,

my cold corse lie treasur'd up with thine!

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RINCES, my fair, unfortunately great,

Born to the pompous vassalage of state,
Whene'er the publick calls, are doom'd to fly
Domestick bliss, and break the private tie ;

breath the toils they bear,
And Love's soft joys are chang'd for glorious care;
Yet conscious Virtue, in the filent hour,
Rewards the hero with a noble dow'r ;
For this alone I dar'd the roaring fea,
Yet more—for this I dar'd to part with thee !
But while my bosom feels the nobler flame,
Still unreprov'd, it owns thy gentler claim,


Tho' Virtue's awful form


'Tis thine, thine only, Zara, that it loves !
A private lot had made the claim but one,
The prince alone must love for virtue fhun.
Ah! why diftinguish'd from the happier crowd,
To me the bliss of millions disallow'd ?
Why was I singled for imperial sway,
Since love and duty point a different way?

Fix'd the dread voyage, and the day decreed,
When, duty's victim, love was doom'd to bleed;
Too well my mem'ry can these scenes renew,
We met to figh, to weep our last adieu.
That conscious palm, beneath whole tow'ring shade
So oft our vows of mutual love were made;
Where hope so oft anticipated joy,
And plann'd, of future years, the best employ ;
That palm was witness to the tears we shed,
When that fond hope, and all those joys were fled.
Thy trembling lips, with trembling lips I press’d,
And held thee panting to my panting breaft:
Oar forrow, grown too mighty to sustain,
Now fnatch'd us, fainting, from the sense of pain.
Together finking in the trance divine,
I caught thy fleeting soul, and gave thee mine!
Q blefs'd oblivion of tormenting care!

why recall'd to life and to despair !
The dreadful summons came, to part--and why?
Why not the kinder fummons, but to die?
To die together, were to part no more,
To land in safety on fome peaceful shore,
Where love's the business of immortal life,
Apd happy fpirits only guess at strife.
If in some distant land my prince should find
r Some nymph more fair,' you cry'd, Zara kind
Mysterious doubi! which could at once impart
Relief to mine, and anguish to thy heart.

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Still let me triumph in the fear express'd,
The voice of love that whisper'd in thy breast :
Nor call me cruel; for my

truth shall prove 'Twas but the vain anxiety of love.

Torn from thy fond embrace, the strand I gain,
Where mourning friends infliet fuperfluous pain;
My father there his struggling sighs suppress’d,
And, in dumb anguish, clasp'd me to his breast;
Then fought (conceal'd the conflict of his mind)
To give the fortitude he could not find;
Each life-taught precept kindly he renew'd,
Thy country's good,' said he, be ftill pursu'd !
• If, when the gracious gods my fon reftore,

These eyes shall sleep in death, to wake no more i
• If then these limbs, that now in age decay,
• Shall mould'ring mix with earth's parental clay ;
• Round my green tomb perform the sacred rite,
• Assume my throne, and let thy yoke be lights
« From lands of freedom glorious precepts bring,
• And reign at' once a father and a king !!

How vainly proud the arrogantly great
Presume to boast a monarch's godlike state !
Subject, alike, the peasant and the king,
To life's dark ills, and care's corroding fting.
From guilt and fraud, that strike in filence sure,
No shield can guard us, and no arms secure :
By these, my fair, fubdu'd, thy prince was loft,
A naked captive on a barb'rous coaft !

Nurtur'd in ease, a thousand servants round,
My wants prevented, and my wishes crown'd,
No painful labours ftretch'd the tedious day,
On downy feet my moments danc'd away.
Where'er I look’d, officious courtiers bow'd,
Where'er I pafs'd, a shouting people croud ;
No fears intruded on the joys I knew ;
Each man my friend, my lovely mistress you !



What dreadful change! abandon's and alone,
The shouted prince is now a slave unknown ;
To watch his eye no bending courtiers wait,
No hailing crowds proclaim his regal state;
A flave condemn'd, with unrewarded toil,
To turn, from morn to eve, a burning soil.
Fainting beneath the sun's meridian heat,
Rouz'd by the scourge, the taunting jest I meet :
• Thanks to thy friends,' they cry, whose care recalls
• A prince to life, in whom a nation falls!'
Unwholesome scraps my strength but half sustain'd,
From corners glean’d, and e’en by dogs disdain'd;
At night I mingled with a wretched crew,
Who, by long use, with woe familiar grew;
Of manners brutish, merciless, and rude,
They mock'd my sufferings, and my pangs renew'd:
In groans, not sleep, I pafs'd the weary night,
And rofe to labour with the morning light.

Yet, thus of dignity and ease beguild,
Thus fcorn’d and scourg'd, insulted and revild,
If Heav'n with thee my faithful arms had bless’d,
And fill'd with love my intervals of rest,
Short tho’ they were, my soul had never known
One secret wish to glitter on a throne ;
The toilfome day had heard no sigh of mine,
Nor stripes, nor fcorn, had urg'd me to repine.
A monarch, ftill beyond a monarch bless'd,
Thy love my diadem, my throne thy breaft;
My courtiers, watchful of my looks, thy eyes,
Should shine, persuade, and flatter, and advise ;
Thy voice my musick, and thy arms should be
Ah! not the prison of a slave in me !
Could I with infamy content remain,
And with thy lovely form to share my chain ?
Could this bring ease ! Forgive th' unworthy thought,
And let the love that finn’d atone the fault.


Could I, a slave, and hopeless to be free,
Crawl, tamely recent from the scourge, to thee?
Thy blooming beauties could these arms embrace ?
My guilty joys enslave an infant race ?
No! rather blaft me lightnings, whirlwinds tear,
And drive these limbs in atoms thro' the air !
Rather than this, o curse me still with life!
And let my Zara smile a rival's wife!
Be mine alone th' accumulated woe,
Nor let me propagate my curse below!

But, from this dreadful scene, with joy I turn:
To trust in Heav'n, of me let Zara learn.
The wretch, the fordid hypocrite, who fold
His charge, an unsuspecting prince, for gold,
That Justice mark’d, whose eyes can never sleep,
And death commission'd, fmote him on the deep.
The gen'rous crew their port in safety gain,
And tell my mournful tale, nor tell in vain;
The king with horror of th' atrocious deed,
In haste commanded, and the slave was freed.
No more Britannia's cheek, the blush of shame,
Burns for my wrongs, her king restores her fame!
Propitious gales, to Freedom's happy shore
Waft me triumphant, and the prince reftore;
Whate'er is great


around me shine,
And all the splendor of a court is mine!
Here Knowledge, too, by piety refin'd,
Sheds a bright radiance o'er my bright'ning mind;
From earth I travel upward to the sky;
I learn to live, to reigri, yet more-to die.'
O! I have tales to tell of Love Divine ;
Such blissful tidings ! they shall soon be thine.
I long to tell thee, what, amaz'd, I see,
What habits, buildings, trades, and polity!
How art and nature vie to entertain
In publick shows, and mix delight with pain.

O O 2

O Zara!

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