honors that can be awarded to slavery without intrigue. But they have long occupied, nevertheless, a part of the "House of Bondage,” who has lately multiplied her many mansions. It would be difficult, perhaps, to find the annals of a nation less stained with crimes than those of the Armenians, whose virtues have been those of peace, and their vices those of compulsion. But whatever may have been their destiny and it has been bitter-whatever it may be in future, their country must ever be one of the most interesting on the globe; and perhaps their language only requires to be more studied to become more attractive. If the Scriptures are rightly understood, it was in Armenia that Paradise was placed-Armenia, which has paid as dearly as the descendants of Adam for that fleeting participation of its soil in the happiness of him who was created from its dust. It was in Armenia that the flood first abated, and the dove alighted. But with the disappearance of Paradise itself may be dated almost the unhappiness of the country; for though long a powerful kingdom, it was scarcely ever an independent one, and the satraps of Persia and the pachas of Turkey have alike desolated the region where God created man in his own image.
THOMAS MOORE. 1779-1852. (Manual, pp. 404-411.)
278. PARADISE AND THE Peri.
One morn a Peri at the gate Of Eden stood, disconsolate; And as she listened to the Springs
Of Life within, like music flowing, And caught the light upon her wings
Through the half-open portal glowing, She wept to think her recreant race Should e'er have lost that glorious place! "How happy,” exclaimed this child of air, "Are the holy Spirits who wander there,
'Mid flowers that never shall fade or fall; Though mine are the gardens of earth and sea, And the stars themselves have flowers for me, One blossom of Heaven outblooms them all! Though sunny the Lake of cool Cashmere, With its plane-tree isle reflected clear,
And sweetly the founts of that Valley fall; Though bright are the waters of Sing-su-hay, And the golden floods that thitherward stray, Yet-O! 'tis only the Blest can say
How the waters of Heaven outshine them all!
"Go, wing thy flight from star to star, From world to luminous world, as far
As the universe spreads its flaming wall : Take all the pleasures of all the spheres, And multiply each through endless years,
One minute of Heaven is worth them all!" The glorious Angel, who was keeping The gates of Light, beheld her weeping! And, as he nearer drew and listened To her sad song, a tear-drop glistened Within his eyelids, like the spray
From Eden's fountain, when it lies On the blue flower, which - Bramins say - Blooms nowhere but in Paradise! "Nymph of a fair but erring line!" Gently he said "One hope is thine, 'Tis written in the Book of Fate, The Peri yet may be forgiven Who brings to this Eternal gate
The Gift that is most dear to Heaven!
Go seek it, and redeem thy sin
'Tis sweet to let the Pardoned in!"
Cheered by this hope she bends her thither; Still laughs the radiant eye of Heaven, Nor have the golden bowers of Even In the rich West begun to wither; When, o'er the vale of Balbec winging Slowly, she sees a child at play, Among the rosy wild-flowers singing, As rosy and as wild as they; Chasing, with eager hands and eyes, The beautiful blue damsel-flies,
That fluttered round the jasmine stems, Like wingéd flowers or flying gems: -- And, near the boy, who tired with play, Now nestling 'mid the roses lay, She saw a wearied man dismount
From his hot steed, and on the brink Of a small imaret's rustic fount Impatient fling him down to drink. Then swift his haggard brow he turned To the fair child, who fearless sat, Though never yet hath day-beam burned Upon a brow more fierce than that, Sullenly fierce- - a mixture dire,
Like thunder-clouds, of gloom and fire!
In which the Peri's eye could read
Dark tales of many a ruthless deed; The ruined maid- the 'shrine profaned Oaths broken
and the threshold stained
With blood of guests! - there written, all, Black as the damning drops that fall From the denouncing Angel's pen, Ere Mercy weeps them out again!
Yet tranquil now that man of crime, (As if the balmy evening time Softened his spirit) looked and lay, Watching the rosy infant's play; Though still, whene'er his eye by chance Fell on the boy's, its lurid glance
Met that unclouded, joyous gaze, As torches, that have burnt all night Through some impure and godless rite, Encounter morning's glorious rays.
But hark! the vesper call to prayer, As slow the orb of daylight sets, Is rising sweetly on the air,
From Syria's thousand minarets! The boy has started from the bed Of flowers, where he had laid his head, And down upon the fragrant sod
Kneels, with his forehead to the south Lisping the eternal name of God
From purity's own cherub mouth, And looking, while his hands and eyes Are lifted to the glowing skies, Like a stray babe of Paradise, Just lighted on that flowery plain, And seeking for its home again! O, 'twas a sight that Heaven A scene, which might have well beguiled E'en haughty Eblis of a sigh For glories lost and peace gone by!
And how felt he, the wretched Man Reclining there while memory ran O'er many a year of guilt and strife, Flew o'er the dark flood of his life, Nor found one sunny resting-place, Nor brought him back one branch of grace! "There was a time," he said, in mild, Heart-humbled tones "thou blesséd child!
When young and haply pure as thou, I looked and prayed like thee - but now He hung his head each nobler aim
And hope and feeling, which had slept From boyhood's hour, that instant came Fresh o'er him, and he wept - he wept! Blest tears of soul-felt penitence!
In whose benign, redeeming flow
Is felt the first, the only sense
Of guiltless joy that guilt can know.
"There's a drop," said the Peri, "that down from the moon
Falls through the withering airs of June Upon Egypt's land, of so healing a power, So balmy a virtue, that e'en in the hour That drop descends, contagion dies, And health reanimates earth and skies! O, is it not thus, thou man of sin,
The precious tears of repentance fall? Though foul thy fiery plagues within,
One heavenly drop hath dispelled them all!" And now behold him kneeling there By the child's side, in humble prayer, While the same sunbeam shines upon The guilty and the guiltless one,
And hymns of joy proclaim through Heaven The Triumph of a soul Forgiven!
'Twas when the golden orb had set,
While on their knees they lingered yet,
There fell a light, more lovely far
Than ever came from sun or star, Upon the tear that, warm and meek, Dewed that repentant sinner's cheek: To mortal eye this light might seem A northern flash or meteor beam But well the enraptured Peri knew "Twas a bright smile the Angel threw From Heaven's gate, to hail that tear Her harbinger of glory near!
"Joy, joy forever! my task is done The Gates are passed, and Heaven is won! O! am I not happy? I am, I am
To thee, sweet Eden! how dark and sad Are the diamond turrets of Shadukiam, And the fragrant bowers of Amberabad! "Farewell, ye odors of Earth, that die, Passing away like a lover's sigh;
My feast is now of the Tooba Tree,
Whose scent is the breath of Eternity!
“Farewell, ye vanishing flowers, that shone In my fairy wreath, so bright and brief, - O! what are the brightest that e'er have blown, To the lote-tree, springing by Alla's Throne,
Whose flowers have a soul in every leaf!
Joy, joy forever! my task is done
The Gates are passed, and Heaven is won!"
279. "TIS THE LAST ROSE of Summer.
'Tis the last rose of summer
Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone; No flower of her kindred,
No rose-bud, is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh.
I'll not leave thee, thou lone one! To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go, sleep thou with them.
Thus kindly I scatter
Thy leaves o'er the bed, Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.
So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay, And from Love's shining circle The gems drop away!
When true hearts lie withered,
And fond ones are flown,
O! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?
280. FORGET NOT THE FIeld.
Forget not the field where they perished, The truest, the last of the brave,
All gone and the bright hope we cherished
Gone with them, and quenched in their grave!
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