Moral.

Never, from folly or urbanity,

Praise people thus profusely to their faces, Till quite in love with their own graces, They're eaten up by vanity!

THE DESERT-BORN.

"Fly to the desert, fly with me."-LADY HESTER STANHOPE.

"TWAS in the wilds of Lebanon, amongst its barren hills,

To think upon it, even now, my very blood it chills!

My sketch-book spread before me, and my pencil in my hand,

I gazed upon the mountain range, the red tumultuous sand,

The plumy palms, the sombre firs, the cedars tall and proud,

When lo! a shadow pass'd across the paper like a cloud,

And looking up I saw a form, apt figure for the

scene,

Methought I stood in presence of some oriental queen!

The turban on her head was white as any driven

snow;

A purple bandalette past o'er the lofty brow

below,

And thence upon her shoulders fell, by either jewell'd ear;

In yellow folds voluminous she wore her long cachemere;

Whilst underneath, with ample sleeves, a Turkish robe of silk

Envelop'd her in drapery the colour of new milk; Yet oft it floated wide in front, disclosing underneath

A gorgeous Persian tunic, rich with many a broider'd wreath,

Compell'd by clasps of costly pearl around her neek to meet

And yellow as the amber were the buskins on her feet!

Of course I bow'd my lowest bow-of all the things on earth,

The reverence due to loveliness, to rank, or ancient birth,

To pow'r, to wealth, to genius, or to any thing

uncommon,

A man should bend the lowest in a Desert to a

Woman!

Yet some strange influence stronger still, though vague and undefined,

Compell'd me, and with magic might subdued my soul and mind;

There was a something in her air that drew the spirit nigh,

Beyond the common witchery that dwells in woman's eye!

With reverence deep, like any slave of that peculiar land,

I bow'd my forehead to the earth, and kissed the arid sand;

And then I touch'd her garment's hem, devoutly as a Dervise,

Predestinated (so I felt) for ever to her service.

Nor was I wrong in auguring thus my fortune from her face,

She knew me, seeningly, as well as any of her

race;

"Welcome!" she cried, as I uprose submissive to my feet;

"It was ordain'd that you and I should in this desert meet!

Aye, ages since, before thy soul had burst its prison bars,

This interview was promised in the language of the stars!"

Then clapping, as the Easterns wont, her allcommanding hands,

A score of mounted Arabs came fast sparring o'er the sands,

Nor rein'd they up their foaming steeds till in my very face

They blew the breath impetuous, and panting from the race.

"Fear nought," exclaim'd the radiant one, as I

66

sprang off aloof,

Thy precious frame need never fear a blow from horse's hoof!

Thy natal star was fortunate as any orb of birth, And fate hath held in store for thee the rarest gift of earth.”

Then turning to the dusky men, that humbly waited near,

She cried, "Go bring the BEAUTIFUL-for lo! the MAN is here!"

Off went th' obsequious train as swift as Arab hoofs could flee,

But Fancy fond outraced them all, with bridle loose and free,

And brought me back, for love's attack, some fair Circassian bride,

Or Georgian girl, the Harem's boast, and fit for sultan's side;

Methought I lifted up her veil, and saw dark eyes beneath,

Mild as gazelle's, a snowy brow, ripe lips, and pearly teeth,

A swanlike neck, a shoulder round, full bosom,

and a waist

[taste. Not too compact, and rounded limbs, to oriental

Methought—but here, alas! alas! the airy dream to blight,