LVI.

He pass'd the sacred Haram's silent tower,
And underneath the wide o'erarching gate
Survey'd the dwelling of this chief of power,
Where all around proclaim'd his high estate.
Amidst no common pomp the despot sate,

While busy preparation shook the court,

Slaves, eunuchs, soldiers, guests, and santons wait;

Within, a palace, and without, a fort:

Here men of every clime appear

to make resort.

LVII.

Richly caparison'd, a ready row

Of armed horse, and many a warlike store,
Circled the wide extending court below :
Above, strange groups adorn'd the corridore;
And oft-times through the area's echoing door
Some high-capp'd Tartar spurr'd his steed away:
The Turk, the Greek, the Albanian, and the Moor,
Here mingled in their many-hued array,

While the deep war-drum's sound announced the close of

day.

LVIII.

The wild Albanian kirtled to his knee,

With shawl-girt head and ornamented gun,
And gold-embroider'd garments, fair to see;
The crimson-scarfed men of Macedon;
The Delhi with his cap of terror on,

And crooked glaive; the lively, supple Greek;
And swarthy Nubia's mutilated son;

The bearded Turk that rarely deigns to speak,
Master of all around, too potent to be meek,

LIX.

Are mix'd conspicuous: some recline in groups,
Scanning the motley scene that varies round;
There some grave Moslem to devotion stoops,

And some that smoke, and some that play, are found;
Here the Albanian proudly treads the ground;

Half whispering there the Greek is heard to prate;

Hark! from the mosque the nightly solemn sound,
The Muezzin's call doth shake the minaret,

"There is no god but God!-to prayer-lo! God is great!"

LX.

Just at this season Ramazani's fast

Through the long day its penance did maintain: But when the lingering twilight hour was past, Revel and feast assumed the rule again: Now all was bustle, and the menial train Prepared and spread the plenteous board within; The vacant gallery now seem'd made in vain, But from the chambers came the mingling din, As

page and slave anon were passing out and in.

LXI.

Here woman's voice is never heard: apart,
And scarce permitted, guarded, veil'd, to move,
She yields to one her person and her heart,
Tamed to her cage, nor feels a wish to rove:
For, not unhappy in her master's love,
And joyful in a mother's gentlest cares,

Blest cares! all other feelings far above!

Herself more sweetly rears the babe she bears,

Who never quits the breast, no meaner passion shares.

LXII.

In marble-paved pavilion, where a spring
Of living water from the centre rose,
Whose bubbling did a genial freshness fling,
And soft voluptuous couches breathed repose,
ALI reclined, a man of war and woes;

Yet in his lineaments ye cannot trace,

While Gentleness her milder radiance throws

Along that aged venerable face,

The deeds that lurk beneath, and stain him with disgrace.

LXIII.

It is not that yon hoary lengthening beard
Ill suits the passions which belong to youth;
Love conquers age-so Hafiz hath averr'd,
So sings the Teian, and he sings in sooth-
But crimes that scorn the tender voice of Ruth,
Beseeming all men ill, but most the man

In years, have mark'd him with a tiger's tooth; Blood follows blood, and, through their mortal span, In bloodier acts conclude those who with blood began.

LXIV.

'Mid many things most new to ear and eye

The pilgrim rested here his weary feet,

And gazed around on Moslem luxury,

Till quickly wearied with that spacious seat

Of Wealth and Wantonness, the choice retreat

Of sated Grandeur from the city's noise:

And were it humbler it in sooth were sweet;

But Peace abhorreth artificial joys,

And Pleasure, leagued with Pomp, the zest of both

destroys.

LXV.

Fierce are Albania's children, yet they lack
Not virtues, were those virtues more mature.
Where is the foe that ever saw their back?
Who can so well the toil of war endure?

Their native fastnesses not more secure

Than they in doubtful time of troublous need: Their wrath how deadly! but their friendship sure, When Gratitude or Valour bids them bleed,

Unshaken rushing on where'er their chief may lead.