REPEAL. 383 



Others assert that on a glorious morning, 



When Time was young and all the gods at play, 

 That isle was whipped up, without sign or warning, 



From .Omar's* sunny bosom where it lay, 

 And northward borne in spite of chafing, scorning, 



And plunged amid the cold Atlantic spray, 

 Just like Loretto's fam'd Santissima Caza, 

 That angels wafted from the land of Gaza. 



Howe'er this be, 'tis certain 'tis a land 



Full of strange tokens and deep mystery, 

 The foot-prints of old Time on every hand 



Are deeply graven, and hoar History 

 Points to the isolated tow'rs that stand 



In lonely grandeur, 'neath the quiet sky, 

 And tells us how of old this famous nation 

 Was sacred to the powers of propagation. 



Certain it is that many a Grecian maid, 



By Delphi's shrine and fair Ilypus' streams, 

 Felt a strange yearning for its hallowed shade, 



And saw its luxuries reveal'd in dreams ; 

 And Plato wrapp'd in fancy thither strayed, 



And drew the light that o'er his pages beams : 

 For wise Ulysses, landing from his rambles, 

 Had spread the fame of its delights and gambols. 



And thus excited by the wond'rous tale 



Of the divine Elysium of the West, 

 The people of the distant East set sail 



In search of this sweet " Island of the Blest;" 

 Nor did their northern trip like Ross's fail, 



For in its peaceful vallies sunk to rest, 

 Syrians, Milesians, Tirlbogs, Carthaginians, 

 Egyptians, Persians, Hindoos, and Bythinians. 



These various tribes, amalgamated, blended, 



Formed a great people, and in ceaseless flood, 

 From race to race all gloriously descended, 



The glowing tide of their pure eastern blood ; 

 'Tis true that much in fighting was expended, 



For fighting form'd their source of <f greatest good ;" 

 But even now, the current is riot slack, 

 But chiefly runs in lines of O and Mac. 



\The Sea of Omar: vide Edinburgh Review of April last. 



