596 ANNUAL P. EGISTER, 1817. 



Basking in heav'n's serenest light ; — 

 Those groups of lovely date-trees bending 



Languidly their leaf-crown'd heads. 

 Like youthful maids, when sleep descending 



Warns them to their silken beds ; — 

 Those virgin lilies, all the night 



Bathing their beauties in tlie lake. 

 That they may rise more fresh and bright. 



When their beloved Sun's awake ; 

 Those ruin'd shrines and towers that seem 

 The relics of a splendid dream ; 



Amid whose fairy loneliness 

 Nought but the lap-wing's cry is heard. 

 Nought seen but (when the shadows, flitting 

 Fast from the moon, unsheath its gleam) 

 Some purple-wing'd Sultana sitting 



Upon a column, motionless 

 And glittering, like an idol bird ! — 

 Who could have thought, that there, ev'n there. 

 Amid those scenes so still and fair. 

 The Demon of the Plague hath cast 

 From his hot wing a deadlier blast. 

 More mortal far than ever came 

 From the red desert's sands of flame ! 

 So quick, that every living thing 

 Of human shape, touch'd by his wing. 

 Like plants, where the Simoom hath past. 

 At once falls black and withering ! 



The sun went down on many a brow. 



Which, full of bloom and freshness then. 

 Is rankling in the pest-house now. 



And ne'er will feel that sun again ! 

 And oh ! to see th' imburied heaps 

 On which the lonely moonlight sleeps — 

 The very vultures turn away. 

 And sicken at so foul a prey ! 

 Only the fierce hyaena stalks 

 Throughout the city's desolate walks 

 At midnight, and his carnage plies — 



"Woe to the half-dead wretch, who meets 

 The glaring of those large blue eyes 



Amid the darkness of the streets ! 



" Poor race of Men ! " said the pitying Spirit, 

 • ' Dearly ye pay for yom- primal Fall — 



"' Some flow'rets of Eden ye still inherit, 



" But the tra\j of the Serpent is over them all !" 



She 



