crescents on their brows, from which most luscious | ill, and that more than once I saw your face bending odors were distilled to gladden the hearts of those who over me. Was it not so ?" trod within the mystic gardens of that paradise. My fair companion looked and smiled upon me. The veil of light fled for a moment from her face; it was my own, my lost Zobeide.

It was a summer's eve-I lay upon my couch tranquil but weary; it seemed as I had just waked from a long trance, and was now gathering anew my energies to go forth unto the world. Long I lay in drowsy wakefulness; on my brow and cheek the cool and pleasant breeze swept gently, creeping through the open lattice, and bearing on its balmy pinions the tribute which each loving flower paid as it passed along. There was an old man bending over me: when he saw my eyelids open, he clasped his withered hands, upturned his eyes to Heaven-rapidly his thin lips moved. Exhausted, he | sunk upon the floor. I lay unmoving, for as yet my thoughts were not my own. The recollection of the past came slowly over me-a tomb rose on my sight; gathering my wandering faculties, memory recalled Zobeide, and at once I knew all that had happened. I knew that I had been ill; my visions again flitted before me, and in all I recognized my lost Zobeide. The old man's face again bent over me, and I knew it was the father of my love. I spoke to him-the tears coursed each other down his furrowed cheeks—and he, who for weeks and months had watched over me, then sunk beneath his feelings. They had been unnaturally wrought up and excited, so that he had endured what few could else have borne. Now that I was recovered, the excitement was over-the stay which had supported him was suddenly withdrawn and the old man fainted. The slaves flocked into the room, and though they saw that I had oped my eyes, yet were they heedless of me; their whole attention being given to the old Hakem,(24) whom all loved. Slowly he recovered; he was carried to his own couch, that exhausted Nature might recruit her powers. Thought and reflection, with returning sense, came to me. I was calm, for my frame was still weak, and my blood had boiled so long, that now its fevered heat was gone. I dwelt upon the past; it was tasteful to me, for it was linked with associations of Zobeide; and every memory of her was painful, as it told of lost happiness, and as I deemed that my fair one was now in Heaven. I could find no content. I could no longer indulge in grief, for the fountain of my tears was dry; and I could not think of joy, when Zobeide still floated before my eyes. I, therefore, resolved to seek the only solace, the only refuge for my wounded spirit, and to wander in search of the waters of oblivion.

In three days the good Ishmael appeared again before me; his feet tottered, for his limbs had not yet recovered from the attack that greeted my awaking to convalescence. He came to the side of the couch on which I lay, and taking my hand between his palms"You have been ill, my son," he exclaimed-"but Allah has preserved you, he has listened to my prayers, and at length a bright star appeared in the sky, after I had watched long in hopelessness. Great is the God of Mahomet, and bounteous unto all the faithful." (25.)

"There is a mist upon me, my good father, which obstructs my remembrance; but I believe I have been

"Yes, my son, I watched you; for you were the last link that bound me to earth. My studies are tasteless and insipid to me, when there is none unto whom I may impart my thoughts. I should have been like the old pine on the mountain, which, the last of the forest, the lightning has scathed. I should have stood alone, stripped of my leaves and my branches, and fallen uncared for and companionless."

"Your own life has been nearly sacrificed for my preservation; your kindness falls on me like the dews of Heaven on the flowers of the field; yet I little deserved such unusual regard."

'My son, selfishness was mixed with my own motives; (for in all our actions our impulses are partly evil)—the oak, that for years has been clothed with the ivy, would perish if the parasite were plucked from it. You have grown around my heart; and had you died, in misery I should have followed you. You were the sun that lighted for me the darkness of this worldthere was one other, but she is gone-my loved Zobeide is as one whom the waves of the sea cradle in their dark caves."

The old man's voice seemed a spirit from the past; it was like the voice of home when it speaks in silence to the exile; it conjured up all the memories of the sweet bygone hours: they burst over my soul in a flood of light, dazzling as when the day shines through the opened portals of the dungeon, to him who has been for years its inmate. Yet more painful than ever was remembrance: it eat into my soul as the rust consumeth the sheathed sword. "And now I must seek the waters of oblivion."

""T were vain, my son, though thy Peri assist thee." "It may be, yet I must attempt it. I must leave you, good father. I can no longer endure the silent grief that preys upon me. I must depart. May Allah protect me."

"Your project is wild, yet go; change of scene may bring with it change of feeling; moreover it will make you conversant with others' woes and so forgetful of your own. Go, my son, and protection ever be with you. Yet the waters you desire, may not easily be found; many sages have sought them, but they have ever returned unsatisfied. Still go, my child. I too shall leave this abode of sorrow-and although I may not long survive when you are gone, yet will I seek in other climes alleviation of my afflictions. Adieu! here let us part; but take with you this signet-there are two which resemble it; one I ever keep myself where it cannot be lost, and the other my poor Zobeide kept with like care."(26.)

We parted! since that time I have not seen, I have not heard of my old guardian; and Ishmael is probably as ignorant of the fate and fortunes of Amram. Yet we shall meet again in the gardens of Heaven, if not here. I turned my face towards the rising sun, and thus began my pilgrimage, crossing the great desert with a caravan I overtook a few days' journey from Demeshk. Three weeks I travelled alone, after leaving the caravan, through varied scenery, till I came to a still lake, which spread before me its silver bosom. For a moment I was enchanted with its beauty-the weeping willow bent over it, and the chenar trees were lovelier than those that shaded the banks of my own Baradee. Amra

trees (27) were there-and the purple blossoms of that in size; verdure and vegetation were forgotten; the tree which presents the appearance of spring and summer high mountains bathed their white heads in the dun ever enduring together. Vines, too, with clustering fruit, clouds of Heaven, which hung over me like one vast more delicious than the golden grapes of Casveen; and shroud of watery vapor. But there was one bright blue almond trees which might have rivalled those that bloom spot in the far distance, though the leaden waters were in the gardens of Dehlee. On the glassy waters, purer not gilded by its smile. My boat stopped not; on it than the lake of pearl, red lotuses and blue water lilies hurried with the same steady and rapid movement. raised their graceful flowers, while the banks were The rocks drew nearer; I could not see them, but I felt clothed with a soft grass, sending forth continual fra- the change; a tangible mist enveloped me, and a darkgrance like that on the margin of the sacred Ganges. ness which was not night-for that one blue spot was Neither were the leaves of the golden Champac absent; still visible, like the light of hope in the midst of sornor the ruby flowers of the Camalata; nor the Amreta rows. There was no rest for me; the river hitherto so Jambu, which gives its name to one of the fairest trees smooth, fretted and chafed amongst the hidden rocks— of Paradise. It were vain to describe all that decked my boat leapt from wave to wave; the billows raged that magic scene-earth seemed ransacked of her beau- higher, and boiled as when the waters of the Coral ties, so varied were the flowers that bloomed beside that sea (30) bursting through the strait of Tears,(31) minlake. But the pleasure which these afforded, did not gle their waters with the mighty ocean. The crags continue. I sickened with excess of beauty, and the met, and through the low arch the tumbling boat shot. stillness of all things sunk on my soul as the atmosphere Once more I was in the open air-the unspotted blue of of the vale of death. The sheen of the broad basin Heaven smiled over me. I looked back towards the remained unchanged-a wide expanse of liquid silver, stream I had just quitted-it was gone-shut out by the over which there passed no shade-and the sky was thick mist that rose behind me; and I found myself a blue above, but there was no cloud-wreath to relieve lonely voyager on the dull untraversed waters of a the sight; the birds were mute, and the leaves slept un- shoreless sea. My boat moved not, but lay slumbering quivering on the aspen bough. I was alone, and the on the palsied waves; the sky became dark and lowerstill beauty of the scene made me more sensible of my ing-behind me and before me the dense mists hung on loneliness. I tried to flee from the spot, but I could the verge of the bright blue, as if eager to swallow up find no path to guide me-there were no footsteps on its brilliancy; there was no sound-no breath-the air the long grass. Ever as I moved, flowers of melancholy itself was sleeping. I submitted to the strange influence associations sprung up beneath my feet-the Rayhan, of the place, and lay in waking slumbers; yet no visions whose soft tufts wave over the graves of the departed, came to gladden my soul; the semblances of things and that Tuberose which the dwellers in the eastern had vanished from my mind, and I could think of coislands(28) have named the mistress of the night, to- thing but that sky and of those waters and of my weird gether with that flower which dispenses not its odors boat. My skiff moved not, and yet there rose before till darkness approaches, and seems itself the harbinger me in the flushed horizon, a wall of shining crystal, on of death. which the roseate hues of light danced fitfully. Rapid ly did they come nearer, though my boat seemed still unmoving. Those crags of ice divided-the portals soon resolved themselves into dread shapes, from which a chill benumbing atmosphere proceeded and wrapped itself around me. From all sides, before, behind, battlements and towers of ice sprung through the misty shroud, and bathed their glittering peaks in the living light of Heaven. Slowly these walls closed in, and the waters of the lake, on which I floated, became dense and more dense. Then a loud voice, as of one the grave had freed, rung on my ears, “ On, mortal, on—thou hest no choice; the waters of oblivion are before thee—on to those waters whence is no return. Child of clay, thou hast sought the treasure of the genii in their wild and magic halls; on, for the waves of oblivion shall roll over thee." The voice had spoken; at once the water and the air and the blue heavens all found a voice and shrieked in dreadful unison: "On, mortal, on-thou hast no choice; the waters of oblivion are before thee"-and those crags of wondrous crystal threw back the awful sounds from peak to pinnacle, as when the loud thunder laughs at midnight among the lofty mountains. "On, thou hast no choice-the waters of oblivion are before thee." Crag answered unto crag, till o'er the roaring waters there hung an atmosphere of loathed sounds. Then there rose, as if from myriad mouths, a wild and fiendish laughter, and those walls of ice burst out in wanton mirth, while the water and the air laughed in wild sym phony. Suddenly the bosom of that lake, which be

My brain reeled in a mist of its own creation. Overpowered, I staggered to the margin of the lake, and seeing there a light boat unmoving on the waters, I leaped into it, almost unconscious of my actions. The skiff wheeled round, for as I stepped upon it, a rapid current swept down the lake and hurried me away. I fell, almost senseless.

As my senses returned, I could perceive that I lay on a bed of flowers in that caique, borne down the narrow stream with the swiftness of lightning.(29) Trees, more beautiful than those I had seen on the borders of the lake, bloomed along the banks of that impetuous river; and their overreaching branches and blossoms hung so low that I thought to catch them as I was hurried onward. I stretched my hand to catch them, but their fragrance only I reached. Sometimes a stray flower fell into my hands, but I had no sooner touched it, than its beauty paled; it gave me pleasure no longer, but withering, quickly died. On I was borne-the arrow flies not straighter to its mark, than that boat bounded on toward some hidden home. The stream became wider and the trees bloomed thinner on the banks. I tried no longer to catch their flowerets. Still, onward, the river widened, and instead of blossoms and green leaves, sharp and jagged rocks frowned down upon me; but in some few and distant places I could see the acacia waving its bright saffron tresses, or a small tuft of green grass, on which my eyes would willingly have delayed. Still my small caique danced onward; the rocks increased

66

When my eyes had become habituated to the light, and the effects of that trance had passed away, I found myself reclining by that silver lake whereon I had started in the enchanted boat. The date trees waved over me their graceful foliage, the moon shone bright, and the stars viewed with joy and admiration their beauteous orbs glassed in the deep waters.

fore had been so still and smooth, rushed on in foaming | I reclined in the jessamine bower; I even visited the rapids, and the war of streams sounded like the cata- tomb I had erected to her, but the sadness which it inracts of Bahs el Nil. Swift as the eagle, when he spired was mellowed by my belief in her existence. swoops on his prey, or as the death-bearing Samiel, the I now despaired of ever finding her again, without light boat sprung forward, and through those portals of chance should throw her across my path; and I should the ice, shot towards the waters of oblivion-and as I probably have remained in the vale of Demeshk, if I passed, they closed behind me with a horrid crash. had not remembered my protector, Ishmael, and been "This cannot be," I cried; "the prophet will not resign seized with a desire of informing him that his daughter his votary into the hands of the rebellious angels; it still lived. But ere I again quitted, perhaps for ever, may not be. Dread powers of darkness and of ill-by that sweet paradise, I sought the banks of the cool the victory of Soleyman, I conjure you—by that charm Baradee-and looking on it with a feeling of affection, which has excluded you from Paradise-by the majesty Murmuring rivulet," I cried, "laughing and sparkof Allah, and by that mystic spell which mortal lips ling in the noontide sun, sweet art thou to my heart! may not pronounce, and which accursed ears dare not Still thou smilest and sportest, as when in the days of hear." With sudden plunge those toppling crags van my childhood I stood by thy brink and watched thy ished in the dull waters, with themselves, and in their current bear along with it the little boats which my idle stead there sounded on my ear the sweet music of a fancy made of every twig that sailed down thee. Still rippled stream. My eyes were open, and a weight was thou rollest on, and strayest in happy ignorance of thy off my spirits. future lot-knowest thou that thy pleasant course will | be ended—that thy waters will be lost in the brine of the ocean and thyself seen no more? Thou canst not, or not always wouldst thou wear that cherub smile upon thy cheek. My life is like thine: in childhood all was gladness-the sorrows, that like April showers at times bedimmed my joy, were but as the light clouds that, from time to time, steal from thee the cheering rays of the sun and rob thee of thy smile. But they quickly vanished, and every little incident that then happened to me, was like the straws and feathers, the leaves and flowers, which are carried along at thy sweet will. My gladsome thoughts seized them and hurried them along with me-and as the bee, unheeding, extracts honey from all flowers, so did I suck joy from things which to others might have seemed painful. But the tide of my life has rolled onwards, and brought to me, as it does unto thyself, a deeper and a wider stream-and now the brightest beams dance coldly on the surface, without penetrating to the heart as they were wont to do of old-and instead of sporting with the few green leaves and bright blossoms, they fall unregarded upon me. My stream is still rapid as before, but its rapidity makes it turbid. Still I roll onwards as thyself, fair brook, till I reach the ocean-the boundless and shoreless ocean of eternity. Smile on, then, my sweet Baradee; and though to me the past has been full of tears, yet will I I did not remain long in the place where she had left smile with thee, for thou carriest me back to the glad me, but with the earliest dawn I proceeded to retrace days of my childhood." I bent over the stream. I my steps. The path which in the evening I had so scattered some flowers and green leaves upon it, and hopelessly sought, presented itself at once for my ac- for some minutes my tears fell unnoticed on its sparkceptance. Instead of the stillness which before had ling waters. "Will there ever be one," cried I, "to been spread over nature, the birds carolled lightly in the shed tears over me, or to scatter fresh flowers on my woods-the winds made wild music in the trees, and | grave when I am dead? None,(33,) with that sensation every flower, that bloomed along my path, breathed of pleasing regret with which I now deck thy bosomforth the notes of gladness. With the utmost speed, I for the hand of the stranger will adorn my tomb, and returned towards the vale of Demeshk, hoping that my I shall die an exile from my home. Thou hast ever Zobeide might possibly have returned toward the home been my companion, and hast lent a ready ear to comof her childhood. Hope and fear were so nicely balan-plaints which none other has heard. All my secrets ced in my bosom, that I forgot all my former desires of have been confided to thee, and I have fancied that thy oblivion, and journeyed on in lightness of heart. But wavelets sympathized with my sorrows, for they seemas I entered the vale of Sham el Demeshy, fear so far ed to wear a softer smile. Adieu! then, fairest of ripredominated, that I almost anticipated the reply to my vers. Adieu! my own sweet Baradee." frequent and vain inquiries, for I found that no intelli- I turned and quitted the spot. I wandered in search gence had ever been received of the lost Zobeide. I of the father of my youth-the sage Ishmael—him I visited all the spots which her partiality had consecra- have never found. I have visited the shrine of our proted—I strolled through the chenar grove-and for hours phet-I have kissed the holy Caaba,(34)—I have drunk

A spirit appeared to me-the radiance of her countenance and the brilliancy of her figure made the moon appear dark in heaven. She bent over me; and the words proceeded from her mouth sweeter than the remembered tones of a sweet sound; more soothing than the silver tones of Izrafil. "Amram," she said, "I have visited you with a dream-you have wished for the waters of oblivion; wilt thou now that I conduct you where you may meet with the reality of your vision ?" | A shudder ran over me-my cheek turned pale-a cold sweat issued from all the pores of my skin-the blood stagnated in my veins, and I had only power to exclaim, "Nay, fair Peri; drive me not thither; the recollection of those horrors overpowers me. I will not taste of those dark waters." "Amram," she replied, "it is well I have watched over you; for my oath to your mighty father compelled me. This time have I rescued you from the jaws of destruction. Farewell, and know that Zobeide liveth! (32.) Seek."

proverbial.

then:

of the soul-curing waters of Zemzem, (35)-I have lived | (5) "The fleeces of Angora" are so soft as to have become with the tribes of Araby, and the tribes of Tooran (36) (6) A practice which even now is not renounced in the East, have extended their hospitality to me. I have visited the burning lakes (37,) which flame beside the great Afghans believe in alchymy, magic, astrology, and the prophetic as is evident from the following passage of Malte Brun: "The water of judgment, (38,) and have dwelt with the Gue character of dreams." From a work entitled 'Travels in the bres, (39,) whose sincerity and goodness deserve a better East,' and published in the latter part of the seventeenth or the creed. In the course of my travels I have observed, early part of the eighteenth century, I extract the following that in all places the good and the bad are mingled-passage, to show the respect in which astrology was held even that kindness is naturalized on earth wherever man can live. I have observed that religions, which should unite all men, if the welfare of men be their intention, are unfailing sources of contention and bloodshed. I have found men possessed of the greatest virtues, marred by some trivial fault, which dimmed the lustre of their goodness; and characters of acknowledged vice, possess ed of some dazzling virtue, which blinded the eyes of men to their faults. I have travelled much-the words of Ishmael I have tested and found true-there is no

happiness-but I hate not the world in consequence, rather loving it, that I may alleviate the miseries of others in the hope of consolation in return. For vain as this consolation may appear, when carefully scrutinized in the eye of reason, yet it invigorates the heart, as the dews of the morning refresh the budding, and like snow sinks deeper in proportion to the lightness of its fall. I have found neither Zobeide nor Ishmael, yet I cannot conceive my time ill spent, since it has inclined me to a firm reliance on the bountiful goodness, and a pitying tolerance for the errors of others, whether in religion or in life.

Many revolutions of the sun had passed over me, since I quitted the soft flowing Baradee, and I was returning once more to revisit the centre of all my pleasing thoughts and fancies, when slumbering by the banks of the Euphrates, the voice of the Peri again sounded like music on my ear—“ Up, Amram, arise! thy lord cometh and the hour of thy joy is at hand; haste thee to the plains of Farsistan, pass from the vale of Lilies (40) without delaying, and thou shalt find the prince Aboun Hassein by the fount, which wells out from the mountains of Fire (41)-him shalt thou accompany."

My tale is ended-the servant of my lord is before thee-thou knowest all-and if my story hath deserved thy attention, may it keep alive in thy breast the remembrance of "Amram, the wanderer."

(2) "Moussa." Moses. The Mahometans claim the same right to scriptural references that we Christians do.

(3) Sham el Demeshy." "On the eastern base of Libanus is the fertile plain, watered by numerous streams, where the ancient city of Damascus stands-the Demeshk, or Sham el Demeshy of the orientalists. The environs of the city, watered by the Baradee and other small streams, present at all seasons of the year a pleasing verdure, and contain an extensive series of gardens and villas. The valley of Dainascus or Gather, is, according to Abulfeda, the first of the four terrestrial paradises." Malte Brun Geog. 110, xxviii, 3.

(4) "Green as the turban of an Emir." Green is the sacred color of the Mahometans, and the use of green turbans is restricted to the grandees, if I mistake not, for I cannot at present refer to the authority; but the words of the Persian author of this tale should be considered sufficient authority.

astrology; which last they term the revelation of the stars. "Astronomy is studied in Persia purely for the sake of The people of the East look upon astrology as the key to futurity, and they have an insatiable curiosity for prying into things to come. This seems to be the principal end of their studies, and they look upon a person to be stupid and ignorant to the last degree, who speaks slightly of this science."

(7) Where they may still be found, along with singing birds, ever living waters, and a variety of other curious things; for an enumeration of which I refer the reader to D'Herbelot and the Arabian Nights.

(9) "Baradee." See note 4.

(9)" Soleyman ben Donad." Solomon, the son of David. the greatest of the Preadamite kings, according to the orientals. (10) “Zitars." A musical instrument, probably resembling the cithara of the Greeks and Latins, for its description as well as its name resembles the "testudo Apollinis."

(11) Chenar trees." The favorite tree of the east; being a species of the sycamore.

(12) Sultana Scheherazade." The name will instantly recall that beautiful work “The Arabian Nights Entertainments” to the minds of all readers. And here I would observe, that these tales seem as much admired in the east as they ought to be

in the west.

(13) "Tall and graceful as the cedar of Lebanon." Ter proximity of Damascus to the mountain would naturally suggest

the comparison.

(14) "The marble of Shirameen." "Near the village of Shir ameen, not far from the lake of Shahee, are ponds or plastes, whose indolent waters, by a slow and regular process, stagnate, concrete and petrify, and produce the beautiful transparent stone commonly called Tabreez marble."--Shoberl's Persia. Mr. Morier observes, that in its last stage of concretion, the marble is white like Iwas frost.

(15) I was unable to translate the Persian word by any which might convey its real force, and therefore substituted by. rinth," though it detracts from the consistency of the work. But the fault is that of the translator.

(16) According to the religious philosophy of the Mahometans, the basis of Mount Caf is an emerald, whose reflections produce the azure of the sky--the mountain is endowed with a sensitive sensation in its roots or nerves--and their vibrations, at the com mand of God, is the cause of earthquakes.”—From a rote in Gibbon's Hist. Dec. and Fall. Rom. Emp. Vide etiam D'Herbe» lot, Bibliothique Orientals, pp. 230-231.

(17) The reader may from this perceive the propriety of Lord Byron's distinction:

"By Helle's stream there is a voice of wail, And woman's eye is wet-man's cheek is pale." Bride of Abydos. (18) The classic scholar may be pleased with the coincidence existing between this passage and the line of Hesiod-Works and Days:

* Αλλ' εμπης και τοισι μεμίζεται εσθλα κακοισι," and the still more beautiful words of that sweet bard Lucretius-Medio de fonti leporum Surgit amari aliquid.

(19) I would not willingly lose the opportunity which this allusion affords of adding my mite of admiration to the thousand voices which have praised that wonderful tale “Vathek." (20) Who would not gladly be reminded of Shakspeare's words--Henry IV, part II:

P. Henry. Inever thought to hear you speak again. K. Henry. Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought. (21) " "The Green Sea" or Oman's Sea, is the Persian Gulf. (22) Among the Eastern nations a dark languishing eye is cosidered the greatest of beauties.

(23) Among the papers from which this translation was made, I found a loose scrap, on which was a species of lyric verse, apparently descriptive of the beauty of this vision of the night.

Not knowing whether to consider it as part of the poem or not, I our own hearts; we love something inanimate; in fancy we have preferred introducing it here: