600 ANNUAL REGISTER, 1817 



" But, Peri, see — the crystal bar 



" Of Eden moves not — holier far 



" Than ev'n this sigh the boon must be 



" That opes the Gates of Heav'n for thee." 



Now, upon Syria's land of roses 

 Softly the light of Eve reposes. 

 And, like a glory, the broad siui 

 Hangs over sainted Lebanon ; 

 Whose head in wintry grandeur towers. 



And whitens with eternal sleet. 

 While siunmer in a vale of flowers. 



Is sleeping rosy at his feet. 



To one, who look'd from upper air 

 O'er all th' enchanted regions there. 

 How beauteous must!have been the glow. 

 The life, the sparkling from below ! 

 , Fair gardens, shining streams, with ranks 



Of golden melons on their banks. 

 More golden where the sun-light falls ; — 

 Gay lizards, glittering on the walls 

 (Jf ruin'd shrines, busy and bright 

 As they were all alive with light ; — 

 And, yet more splendid, numerous flocks 

 Of pigeons, settling on the rocks, 

 AVith their rich restless wings, that gleam 

 Variously in the crimson beam 

 Of the warm west, — as if inlaid 

 AVitli brilliants from the mine, or made 

 Of tearless rainbows, such as span 

 Th' unclouded skies of Peristan ! 

 And then, the mingling sounds that come. 

 Of shepherd's ancient reed, with hum 

 Of the wild bees of Palestine, 



Banquetting through the flowery vales ; — 

 And, Jordan, those sweet banks of thine. 



And woods, so full of nightingales ! 



But nought can charm the luckless Peri ; 

 Her soul is sad — her wings are weary — 

 Joyless she sees the sun look down 

 On that great Temple, once his own. 

 Whose lonely colimms stand sublime. 



Flinging their shadows from on high. 

 Like dials, which the wizard. Time, 



Has rais'd to count his ages by ! 



! 



Yet 



