That darted from beneath its lid, Bright as the gem of Giamschid *. Yea, Soul, and should our prophet say * The celebrated fabulous ruby of Sultan Giamschid, the embellisher of Istakhar; from its splendour, named Schebgerag, "the torch of night;" also, the “ cup of the sun," &c. + Al-Sirat, the bridge of breadth less than the thread of a famished spider, over which the Mussulmans must skate into Paradise, to which it is the only entrance; but this is not the worst, the river beneath being hell itself, into which, as may be expected, the unskilful and tender of foot contrive to tumble with a "facilis descensus Averni," not very pleasing in prospect to the next passenger. There is a shorter cut downwards for the Jews and Christians. A vulgar error; the Koran allots at least a third of Paradise to well-behaved women; but by far the greater number of Mussulmans interpret the text their own way, and exclude their moieties from heaven. Being enemies to Platonics, they cannot discern " any fit Hath swept the marble where her feet 370 It fell, and caught one stain of earth. So moved on earth Circassia's daughter ness of things" in the souls of the other sex, conceiving them to be superseded by the Houris. * An oriental simile, which may, perhaps, though fairly stolen, be deemed " plus Arabe qu'en Arabie." † Hyacinthine, in Arabic, "Sunbul," as common a thought in the eastern poets as it was among the Greeks. The loveliest bird of Franguestan*! As rears her crest the ruffled swan, And spurns the wave with wings of pride, When pass the steps of stranger man Along the banks that bound her tide; Thus rose fair Leila's whiter neck : Thus armed with beauty would she check Shrunk from the charms it meant to praise. 375 380 Thus high and graceful was her gait; Her heart as tender to her mate 385 Her mate-stern Hassan, who was he? f Stain'd with the best of Arnaut blood, And few return'd to tell the tale Of what befell in Parne's vale. The pistols which his girdle bore Were those that once a pasha wore, 395 Which still, though gemm'd and boss'd with gold, 400 Even robbers tremble to behold. 'Tis said he goes to woo a bride More true than her who left his side; The faithless slave that broke her bower, And, worse than faithless, for a Giaour! 405 The sun's last rays are on the hill, 410 |