POETRY. .593 



The glorious Angel, who was keeping 

 The gates of Light, beheld her weeping ; 

 And, as he nearer drew and listen' d 

 To her sad song, a tear-drop glisten'd 

 Within his eyelids, like the spray 



From Eden's fountain, when it lies 

 On the blue flow'r, which — Bramins say — 



Blooms no where but in Paradise ! 

 " Nymph of a fair, but erring line !" 

 Gently he said — " One hope is thine. 

 " 'Tis written in the Book of Fate, 



" The Peri yet may be forgiven 

 " Who brings to this Eternal Gate 



" The Gift that is most dear to Heaven ! 

 " Go, seek it, and redeem thy sin ; — 

 " 'Tis sweet to let the Pardon'd in !" 



Rapidly as comets run 



To th' embraces of the Sun : — 



Fleeter than the starry brands. 



Flung at night from angel hands 



At those dark and daring sprites. 



Who would climb th' empyreal heights, 



Down the blue vault the Peri flies, 



And, lighted earthwai'd by a glance 

 That just then broke from morning's eyes. 



Hung hovering o'er our world's expanse. 



But whither shall the Spirit go 

 To find this gift for heav'n ? — " 1 know 

 " The wealth," she cries, " of every urn, 

 " In which unnumber'd rubies burn, 

 " Beneath the pillars of Chilminar ; — 

 " I know where the Isles of Perfume are 

 " Many a fathom down in the sea, 

 " To the south of sun-bright Araby ; — 

 " I know too where the Genii hid 

 " The jewell'd cup of their King Jamished, 

 " With Life's elixir sparkling high — 

 " But gifts like these are not for tlie sky. 

 " Where was there ever a gem that shone 

 " Like the steps of Alla's wonderful Throne ? 

 " And the Drops of Life — oh ! what would they be 

 "In the boundless Deep of Eternity ? " 

 While thus she mus'd, her pinions fann'd 

 The air of tliat sweet Indian land. 

 Whose ail' is balm j whose ocean spreads 

 Vol. LIX. 3 Q O'er 



