The author appears to have thought that if it were everywhere clear
and intelligible, it would not be classical. The hero, meditating on
some unexplained wrongs which he had suffered, carries fire and
sword to the dominions of a princess, named Charoba, who, not
knowing what to do upon such an emergency, consults with her
nurse, Dalica. She, relying on magic arts, advises the maid to sur-
render to him the ruined city of Gadir, supposed to have been built
by one of his ancestors, and at the same time to persuade him to
restore the walls. With this advice Charoba complies, and hies her
to the presence of the conqueror.

• But Gebir when he heard of her approach
Laid by his orbed shield, his vizor-helm,
His buckler and his corslet he laid by,
And bade that none attend him; at his side
Two faithful dogs that urge the silent course,
Shaggy, deep-chested, croucht; the crocodile,
Crying, oft made them raise their flaccid ears
And push their heads within their master's hand.
There was a brightening paleness in his face,
Such as Diana rising o'er the rocks
Shower'd on the lonely Latmian; on his brow
Sorrow there was, yet nought was there severe.
But when the royal damsel first he saw,

Faint, hanging on her handmaids, and her knees
Tottering, as from the motion of the car,
His eyes look'd earnest on her, and those eyes
Shew'd, if they had not, that they might have lov'd,

For there was pity in them at that hour.

With gentle speech, and more with gentle looks,

He sooth'd her, but lest Pity go beyond

And crost Ambition lose her lofty aim,

Bending, he kist her garment, and retired.'-pp. 3—4.

This want of gallantry upon the part of the hero, is to be imputed, we suppose, to his ambition; being already smitten by her charms, if he allowed himself to be melted by her tears, he must have abandoned his projects of conquest. He must have his adviser too, and straight he proceeds to his brother, Tamar, who happens to be a shepherd, entrusted with the care of the royal flocks. Him he finds in a most doleful mood on the banks of the Nile, wholly regardless of his pastoral charge, for he was already lost in love' with a fair nymph of the river, with whom he first became acquainted in a wrestling match, to which she defied him. He tells the story of his passion, which sufficiently convinces Gebir of his own folly, and forthwith resolving to make the best of his new acquisitions, and to execute the request of Charoba, he orders the city of Gadir to be rebuilt. But all the labours of the week are destroyed on the seventh day by some invisible power. This astonishes and perplexes Gebir; he and his people fast and pray, to avert the anger of the Gods, but in vain. Under the hope that the

nymph, who held Tamar's heart in chains, could disclose the cause of this phenomenon, he persuades his brother to allow him to meet her in his shepherd's garb.

C They parted here:

And Gebir bending through the woodlands cull'd
The creeping vine and viscous rasberry,
Less green and less compliant than they were;
And twisted in those mossy tufts that grow
On brakes of roses when the roses fade:
And as he passes on, the little hinds
That shake for bristly herds the foodful bough,
Wonder, stand still, gaze, and trip satisfied;
Pleas'd more if chesnut, out of prickly husk
Shot from the sandal, roll along the glade.'-p.

15.

The moment for the assignation being arrived, the nymph suddenly springs upon her supposed lover, and another wrestling match ensues, in which, however, she is vanquished by the superior strength of the king. Her horror is great when she discovers that he is not Tamar, and upon his pledge that her lover would be restored to her, she reveals to him a sacrificial ceremony, described after the manner of Homer, by the strict observance of which he might turn away the wrath of the demons, who, by their incantations, had marred the labours of his people. Having complied with the injunctions of the nymph, he finds himself suddenly transported to the regions of Erebus and night, through which he is led, after the Virgilian fashion, by a spirit named Aroar! He is shown the Purgatory of those who were still not sufficiently worthy of higher bliss; thence he passes to the Elysian fields, and, being a little curious about his ancestors, he is introduced to them by Aroar, and finds them in the midst of all sorts of dreadful punishments. They confess to him the crimes which they had perpetrated in life, to which they had been urged by ambition, and Gebir returns to earth a reformed man. Meantime Charoba's heart feels not indifferent towards him. She had been captivated at first sight by his manly charms, and hearing of his proceedings from Dalica, who knows every thing, she becomes jealous of the nymph. Dalica recommends her to give a feast to the strangers, a hint which she receives with delight, as she might thus have an opportunity of once more beholding Gebir. The poet has prodigally displayed his imagination in the description of the festival which follows.

'Then went the victims forward crown'd with flowers,
Crown'd were tame crocodiles, and boys white-robed
Guided their creaking crests across the stream.

In gilded barges went the female train,

And, bearing others ripple near, undrew
The veil of sea-green awning: if they found

Whom they desired, how pleasant was the breeze!
If not, the frightful water forced a sigh.

Sweet airs of music ruled the rowing palms,
Now rose they glistening and aslant reclined,
Now they descended and with one consent
Plunging, seem'd swift each other to pursue,
And now to tremble wearied o'er the wave.
Beyond and in the suburbs might be seen
Crowds of all ages: here in triumph passed
Not without pomp, tho' raised with rude device,
The monarch and Charoba; there a throug
Shone out in sunny whiteness o'er the reeds.
Nor could luxuriant youth, or lapsing age
Propt by the corner of the nearest street,
With aching eyes and tottering knees intent,
Loose leathery neck, and wormlike lip outstretcht,
Fix long the ken upon one form, so swift
Thro' the gay vestures fluttering on the bank,
And thro' the bright-eyed waters dancing round,
Wove they their wanton wiles and disappear'd.

'Meantime, with pomp august and solemn, borne
On four white camels tinkling plates of gold,
Heralds before and Ethiop slaves behind,
Each with the signs of office in his hand,
Each on his brow the sacred stamp of years,
The four ambassadors of peace procede.
Rich carpets bear they, corn and generous wine,
The Syrian olive's cheerful gift they bear,
With stubborn goats that eye the mountain tops

Askance and riot with reluctant horn,

And steeds and stately camels in their train.
The king, who sat before his tent, descried
The dust rise redden'd from the setting sun:
Thro' all the plains below the Gadite men
Were resting from their labour: some surveyed
The spacious site ere yet obstructed.. walls
Already, soon will roofs have interposed;
Some ate their frugal viands on the steps
Contented; some, remembering home, prefer
The cot's bare rafters o'er the gilded dome,
And sing, for often sighs too end in song:
"In smiling meads how sweet the brook's repose,
To the rough ocean and red restless sands!
Where are the woodland voices that increast
Along the unseen path on festal days,
When lay the dry and outcast arbutus
On the fane-step, and the first privet-flowers
Threw their white light upon the vernal shrine ?"
Some heedless trip along with hasty step
Whistling, and fix too soon on their abodes:
Haply and one among them with his spear
Measures the lintel, if so great its highth,
As will receive him with his helm unlower'd.

'But silence went throughout, e'en thoughts were husht, When to full view of navy and of camp

Now first expanded the bare-headed train.

Majestic, unpresuming, unappall'd,

Onward they marched, and neither to the right

Nor to the left, tho' there the city stood,

Turn'd they their sober eyes; and now they reacht
Within a few steep paces of ascent

The lone pavilion of the Iberian king :

He saw them, he awaited them, he rose,

He hail'd them, " Peace be with you:" they replied

King of the western world, be with you peace."-pp. 39–42. Dalica, mistaking the stately reserve of Charoba, upon the subject of her passion, for hatred of the stranger, resolves on his destruction. For this purpose she takes a journey to a sorceress at some distance, from whom she obtains a deadly robe, and here the poet treats us with an elaborate description of the incantations that were used on the occasion. Meantime, the day arrives that was appointed for the marriage of Tamar and his beloved nymph.

The brave Iberians far the beach o'erspread

Ere dawn, with distant awe; none hear the mew,
None mark the curlew flapping o'er the field;
Silence held all, and fond expectancy.

Now suddenly the conch above the sea

Sounds, and goes sounding thro' the woods profound.
They, where they hear the echo, turn their eyes,
But nothing see they, save a purple mist

Roll from the distant mountain down the shore:
It rolls, it sails, it settles, it dissolves..

Now shines the Nymph to human eye reveal'd,
And leads her Tamar timorous o'er the waves.
Immortals crowding round congratulate

The shepherd; he shrinks back, of breath bereft :
His vesture clinging closely round his limbs
Unfelt, while they the whole fair form admire,
He fears that he has lost it, then he fears
The wave has mov'd it, most to look he fears.
Scarce the sweet-flowing music he imbibes,
Or sees the peopled ocean; scarce he sees
Spio with sparkling eyes, and Beroe
Demure, and young Ione, less renown'd,
Not less divine, mild-natur'd, Beauty form'd
Her face, her heart Fidelity; for Gods
Design'd, a mortal too Ione loved.
These were the Nymphs elected for the hour
Of Hesperus and Hymen; these had strewn
The bridal bed, these tuned afresh the shells,
Wiping the green that hoarsen'd them within:
These wove the chaplets, and at night resolv'd
To drive the dolphins from the wreathed door.

Gebir surveyed the concourse from the tents,
The Egyptian men around him; 'twas observ'd
By those below how wistfully he lookt,
From what attention with what earnestness
Now to his city, now to theirs, he waved
His hand, and held it, while they spake, outspred.
They tarried with him and they shared the feast.
They stoopt with trembling hand from heavy jars
The wines of Gades gurgling in the bowl;
Nor bent they homeward til the moon appear'd

To hang midway betwixt the earth and skies.'-pp. 54-55.

It would be unjust to deny that the whole of this description is fraught with the finest spirit of antiquity. The imagination, while we read it, luxuriates in the scene which passes, as if by enchantment, before us. The mystic sound of the conch over the sea, the purple mist, the group of attendant nymphs tuning their shells, and weaving chaplets, and guarding the wreathed door of the nuptial bower from the dolphins, are all in the true character of poetry. In a similar strain, the nymph, beguiling Tamar from apprehension of the dangers that are impending over his brother Gebir, details to him the pleasant occupations which she has in store for him.

"Thus we may sport at leisure when we go
Where, loved by Neptune and the Naid, loved
By pensive Dryad pale, and Oread

The spritely Nymph whom constant Zephyr woos,
Rhine rolls his beryl-coloured wave; than Rhine
What river from the mountains ever came
More stately! most the simple crown adorns
Of rushes and of willows interwined

With here and there a flower: his lofty brow
Shaded with vines and mistleto and oak
He rears, and mystic bards his fame resound.
Or gliding opposite, the Illyrian gulf

Will harbour us from ill." While thus she spake,
She toucht his eyelashes with libant lip,
And breath'd ambrosial odours, o'er his cheek
Celestial warmth suffusing: grief dispersed,

And strength and pleasure beam'd upon his brow.
Then pointed she before him: first arose

To his astonisht and delighted view

The sacred ile that shrines the queen of love.
It stood so near him, so acute each sense,
That not the symphony of lutes alone
Or coo serene or billing strife of doves,
But murmurs, whispers, nay the very sighs
Which he himself had utter'd once, he heard.
Next, but long after and far off, appear

The cloudlike cliffs and thousand towers of Crete,
And further to the right, the Cyclades :

VOL. II. (1831.) NO. II.

Q