The battle-cry at this dead hour-
Ah! she could tell you-she, who leans
Unheeded there, pale, sunk, aghast,
With brow against the dew-cold mast;-
Too well she knows-her more than life
Her soul's first idol and its last,

Lies bleeding in that murderous strife.

But see-what moves upon the height?
Some signal!-'tis a torch's light.
What bodes its solitary glare ?
In gasping silence tow'rd the Shrine
All eyes are turn'd-thine, HINDA, thine
Fix their last fading life-beams there.
'Twas but a moment-fierce and high
The death-pile blaz'd into the sky,
And far away, o'er rock and flood
Its melancholy radiance sent;
While HAFED, like a vison stood
Reveal'd before the burning pyre,
Tall, shadowy, like a Spirit of Fire
Shrin'd in its own grand element!
""Tis he!" the shuddering maid exclaims,-
But, while she speaks, he's seen no more;
High burst in air the funeral flames,
And IRAN's hopes and hers are o'er!

One wild, heart-broken shriek she gave;
Then sprung, as if to reach that blaze,
Where still she fix'd her dying gaze,
And, gazing, sunk into the wave,-
Deep, deep,-where never care or pain
Shall reach her innocent heart again!

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 the 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-start to light up her tomb.

And still, when the merry date-season is burning, And calls to the palm-groves the young and the old,

The happiest there from their pastime returning
At sunset, will weep when the story is told.

The young village-maid, when with flowers she dresses
Her dark flowing hair for some festival day,
Will think of thy fate till, neglecting her tresses,
She mournfully turns from the mirror away.

Nor shall IRAN, belov'd of her Hero! forget theeThough 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.

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

"One of the greatest curiosities found in the Persian Gulf is 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.

For a description of the merriment of the date-time, of their work, their dances, and their return home from the palm-groves at the end of autumn with the fruits." v. Kempfer, Amanitat, Exot.

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-wreath'd cham ber

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;
We'll seek where the sands of the Caspiant 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 who sleeps in this

wave.

* Some naturalists have imagned that amber is a concretion of the tears of birds.-v. Trevoux, Chambers.

"The bay Kieselarke, which is otherwise called the Golden Bay, the sand whereof shines as fire."-Struy.

THE singular placidity with which FADLADEEN had listened, during the latter part of this obnoxious story surprised the Princess and FERAMORZ exceedingly; and even inclined towards him the hearts of these unsuspicious young persons, who little knew the source of a complacency so marvellous. The truth was, he had been organizing, for the last faw days, a most notable plan of persecution against the poet, in consequence of some passages that had fallen from him on the second evening of recital,-which appeared to this worthy Chamberlain to contain language and principles, for which nothing short of the summary criticism of the Chabuk* would be advisable. It was his intention, therefore, immediately on their arrival at Cashmere, to give information to the King of Bucharia of the very dangerous sentiments of his minstrel; and if, unfortunately, that monarch did not act with suitable vigour on the occasion, (that is, if he did not give the Chabuk to FERAMORZ, and a place to FADLADEEN,) there would be an end, he feared, of all legitimate government in Bucharia. He could not help, however, auguring better both for himself and the cause of potentates in general; and it was the pleasure arising from these mingled anticipations that diffused such unusual satisfaction through his features, and made his eyes shine out, like poppies of the desert, over the wide and lifeless wilderness of that countenance.

Having decided upon the Poet's chastisement in this manner, he thought it but humanity to spare him the minor tortures of criticism. Accordingly, when they assembled the following evening in the pavilion, and LALLA ROOKH was expecting to see all the beauties of her bard melt away, one by one, in the acidity of criticism, like pearls in the cup of the

"The application of whips or rods."-Dubois.

Egyptian queen,-he agreeably disappointed her, by merely saying, with an ironical smile, that the merits of such a poem deserved to be tried at a much higher tribunal: and then suddenly passing off into a panegyric upon all Mussulman sovereigns, more particu. larly his august and Imperial master, Aurungzebethe wisest and best of the descendants of Timur,who, among other great things he had done for mankind, had given to him, FADLADEEN, the very profitable posts of Betel-carrier, and Taster of Sherbets to the Emperor, Chief Holder of the Girdle of Beautiful Forms, and Grand Nazir, or Chamberlain of the Haram.

They are now not far from that Forbidden River,t beyond which no pure Hindoo can pass; and were reposing for a time in the rich valley of Hussun Abdaul, which had always been a favourite resting-place of the Emperors in their annual migrations to Cashmere. Here often had the Light of the Faith, Jehanguire, been known to wander with his beloved and beautiful Nourmahal; and here would LALLA ROOKH have been happy to remain for ever, giving up the throne of Bucharia and the world, for FERAMORZ and love in this sweet lonely valley. But the time was now fast approaching when she must see him no longer, -or, what was still worse, behold him with eyes whose every look belonged to another; and there was a melancholy preciousness in those last moments which made her heart cling to them as it would to life." During the latter part of the journey, indeed she had sunk into a deep sadness, from which nothing but the presence of the young minstrel could awake her.

*Kempfer mentions such an officer among the attendants of the King of Persia, and calls him formæ corporis estimator." His business was, at stated periods, to measure the ladies of the Haram by a sort of regulation-girdle, whose limits it was not thought graceful to exceed." If any of them outgrew this standard of shape, they were reduced by abstinence till they came within its bounds. †The Attock.