THE day is lowering—stilly black Sleeps the grim wave, while heaven's rack, Dispers'd and wild, 'twixt earth and sky Hangs like a shatter'd canopy! There's not a cloud in that blue plain But tells of storm to come or past; Here, flying loosely as the mane Of a young war-horse in the blast; There, roll'd in masses dark and swelling, As proud to be the thunder's dwelling! While some, already burst and riven, Seem melting down the verge of heaven; As though the infant storm had rent The mighty womb that gave him birth, And, having swept the firmament, Was now in fierce career for earth. The sea-birds, with portentous screech, Flew fast to land; upon the beach The pilot oft had paus'd, with glance And where was stern AL HASSAN then? "The Easterns used to set out on their longer voyages with music." Harmer. 2 "The Gate of Tears, the straits or passage into the Red Sea, commonly called Babelmandel. It received this name from the old Arabians, on account of the danger of the navigation, and the number of shipwrecks by which it was distinguished; which induced them to consider as dead, and to wear mourning for all who had the boldness to hazard the passage through it into the Ethiopic ocean."- Richardson. From blood-shed and devotion spare No close within, in changeful fits With that keen, second-scent of death, In the still warm and living breath! 3 While o'er the wave his weeping daughter Is wafted from these scenes of slaughter, As a young bird of BABYLON,+ Let loose to tell of victory won, Flies home, with wing, ah! not unstain'd And does the long-left home she seeks The flowers she nurs'd- the well-known groves, 3 "I have been told that whensoever an animal falls down dead, one or more vultures, unseen before, instantly appear." - Pennant. 4" They fasten some writing to the wings of a Bagdat, or Babylonian pigeon." Travels of certain Englishmen: Once more to see her dear gazelles Shooting around their jasper fount.' Her little garden mosque to see, And once again, at evening hour, To tell her ruby rosary In her own sweet acacia bower. - Can these delights, that wait her now, Call up no sunshine on her brow? No-silent, from her train apart, As if ev'n now she felt at heart The chill of her approaching doom, And o'er the wide, tempestuous wave, 5 "The Empress of Jehan-Guire used to divert herself with feeding tame fish in her canals, some of which were many years afterwards known by fillets of gold, which she caused to be put round them." Harris. Blood, blood, in steaming tides shall run, "Where art thou, glorious stranger! thou, "Th' unhallow'd name thou'rt doom'd to bear, "Still glorious still to this fond heart "Dear as its blood, whate'er thou art! "If there be wrong, be crime in this, Forgetting faith, home, father, — all — "Before its earthly idol fall, "Nor worship ev'n Thyself above him. "For oh! so wildly do I love him, "Thy Paradise itself were dim "And joyless, if not shar'd with him !” Her hands were clasp'd - her eyes upturn'd, Dropping their tears like moonlight rain; And, though her lip, fond raver! burn'd With words of passion, bold, profane, |