With mother-of-pearl or ivory, stood at hand, The greater part of these were ready spread Of all the dresses I select Haidéo's: She wore two jelicks-one was of pale yellow; All gold and crimson shone her jelick's fellow, One large gold bracelet clasp'd each lovely arm, That the hand stretch'd and shut it without harm, Around, as princess of her father's land, A like gold bar above her instep roll'd,+ Of lavish pearls, whose worth could scarce be told; Her hair's long auburn waves down to her heel And still they seem resentfully to feel The silken fillet's curb, and sought to shun Round her she made an atmosphere of life, This dress is Moorish, and the bracelets and bar are worn in the manner described The reader will perceive, hereafter, that as the mother of Haidée was of Fez, her daughter wore the garb of the country. The bar of gold above the instep is a mark of sovereign rank in the women of the families of the deys, and is worn as such by their female relatives. This is no exaggeration: there were four women whom I remember to have seen, who possessed their hair in this profusion; of these, three were English, the other was s Levantine. Their hair was of that length and quantity, that, when let down, it almost entirely shaded the person, so as nearly to render dress a superfluity. Of these, only one had dark hair; the Oriental's had, perhaps, the lightest colour of the four. And pure as Psyche ere she grew a wife-- Her eyelashes, though dark as night, were tinged Her nails were touch'd with henna; but again The henna should be deeply dyed to make VAIN REGRETS. BUT now at thirty years my hair is gray(I wonder what it will be like at forty? I thought of a peruke the other day-) My heart is not much greener; and, in short, I Have squander'd my whole summer while 'twas May, And feel no more the spirit to retort; I Have spent my life, both interest and principal, No more- no more-Oh! never more on me Hived in our bosoms like the bag o' the bee, No more no more-Oh! never more, my heart, Once all in all, but now a thing apart, Thon canst not be my blessing or my curse: The illusion's gone for ever, and thou art Insensible, I trust, but none the worse, And in thy stead I've got a deal of judgment, Though Heaven knows how it ever found a lodgment. Ambition was my idol, which was broken O'er which reflection may be made at leisure: "Time is, Time was, Time 's past: "-a chymic treasure Is glittering youth, which I have spent betimesMy heart in passion, and my head on rhymes. THE SLAVE-MARKET. 'Twas a raw day of Autumn's bleak beginning, In all, who o'er the great deep take their ways: A crowd of shivering slaves of every nation, Poor creatures! their good looks were sadly changed. From friends, and home, and freedom far estranged; The negroes more philosophy display'd, Used to it, no doubt, as eels are to be flay'd. Like a backgammon-board the place was dotted With whites and blacks, in groups on show for sale, Though rather more irregularly spotted: Some bought the jet, while others chose the pale. A man of thirty, rather stout and hale, He had an English look; that is, was square One arm had on a bandage rather bloody; And there he stood with such sang froid, that greater Just now a black old neutral personage Of the third sex stept up, and peering over The captives seem'd to mark their looks and age, If they were fitted for the purposed cage: Horse by a blackleg, broadcloth by a tailor, As is a slave by his intended bidder. 'Tis pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures; And all are to be sold, if you consider Their passions, and are dext'rous; some by features Are bought up, others by a warlike leader, Some by a place-as tend their years or natures; The eunuch having eyed them o'er with care, They haggled, wrangled, swore, too-so they did ' At last they settled into simple grumbling, And then the merchant, giving change, and signing I wonder if his appetite was good? Or, if it were, if also his digestion ? Methinks at meals some odd thoughts might intrude, And conscience ask a curious sort of question About the right divine, how far we should Sell flesh and blood. When dinner has oppress'd one, I think it is, perhaps, the gloomiest hour Which turns up out of the sad twenty-four. THE LOVERS. THE heart-which may be broken: happy they! Break with the first fall: they can ne'er behold "Whom the gods love die young," was said of yore,* The death of friends, and that which slays even more- The gentle pressure, and the thrilling touch, As but to lovers a true sense affords; Sweet playful phrases, which would seem absurd All these were theirs, for they were children still, A busy character in the dull scene, But like two beings born from out a rill, A nymph and her beloved, all unseen To pass their lives in fountains and on flowers, Moons changing had roll'd on, and changeless found By the mere senses; and that which destroys THE ASSASSINATION. THE other evening ('twas on Friday last)- Just as my great coat was about me cast, I found the military commandant Stretch'd in the street, and able scarce to pant. See Herodotus. The assassination alluded to took place on the 8th of December, 1820, in the str.ets Ravenna, not hundred paces from the residence of the writer. The circumsta were as described. |