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*Friezes from Tadmor and Persepolis—

From Balbec, and the stilly, clear abyss

**Of beautiful Gomorrah! O, the wave

Is now upon thee—but too late to save!

Sound loves to revel in a summer night:

Witness the murmur of the grey twilight

* Voltaire, in speaking of Persepolis, says, "Je connois

bien l'admiration qu'inspirent ces ruines—mais un palais

erigé au pied d'une chaine des rochers sterils—peut il

être un chef d'oevure des arts!" [Voila les arguments de M.

Voltaire.]

** "Oh! the wave"—Ula Degusi is the Turkish appellation;

but, on its own shores, it is called Bahar Loth, or

Almotanah. There were undoubtedly more than two cities

engluphed in the "dead sea." In the valley of Siddim were

five—Adrah, Zeboin, Zoar, Sodom and Gomorrah. Stephen of

Byzantium mentions eight, and Strabo thirteeen, (engulphed)

—but the last is out of all reason.

It is said, (Tacitus, Strabo, Josephus, Daniel of St. Saba, Nau,

Maundrell, Troilo, D'Arvieux) that after an excessive drought, the

vestiges of columns, walls, &c. are seen above the surface. At any

season, such remains may be discovered by looking down into the

transparent lake, and at such distances as would argue the existence of

many settlements in the space now usurped by the 'Asphaltites.'

*That stole upon the ear, in Eyraco,

Of many a wild star-gazer long ago—

That stealeth ever on the ear of him

Who, musing, gazeth on the distance dim.

And sees the darkness coming as a cloud—

***Is not its form—its voice—most palpable and loud?

But what is this?—it cometh—and it brings

A music with it—'tis the rush of wings—

A pause—and then a sweeping, falling strain

And Nesace is in her halls again.

From the wild energy of wanton haste

Her cheeks were flushing, and her lips apart;

And zone that clung around her gentle waist

Had burst beneath the heaving of her heart.

Within the centre of that hall to breathe

She paus'd and panted, Zanthe! all beneath,

The fairy light that kiss'd her golden hair

And long'd to rest, yet could but sparkle there!

***Young flowers were whispering in melody

To happy flowers that night—and tree to tree;

Fountains were gushing music as they fell

In many a star-lit grove, or moon-lit dell;

Yet silence came upon material things—

Fair flowers, bright waterfalls and angel wings—

And sound alone that from the spirit sprang

Bore burthen to the charm the maiden sang:

* Eyraco—Chaldea.

** I have often thought I could distinctly hear the sound of

the darkness as it stole over the horizon.

*** Fairies use flowers for their charactery.—Merry Wives

of Windsor. [William Shakespeare]

"'Neath blue-bell or streamer—

Or tufted wild spray

That keeps, from the dreamer,

*The moonbeam away—

Bright beings! that ponder,

With half closing eyes,

On the stars which your wonder

Hath drawn from the skies,

Till they glance thro' the shade, and

Come down to your brow

Like—eyes of the maiden

Who calls on you now—

Arise! from your dreaming

In violet bowers,

To duty beseeming

These star-litten hours—

And shake from your tresses

Encumber'd with dew

The breath of those kisses

That cumber them too—

(O! how, without you, Love!

Could angels be blest?)

Those kisses of true love

That lull'd ye to rest!

Up!—shake from your wing

Each hindering thing:

The dew of the night—

It would weigh down your flight;

And true love caresses—

O! leave them apart!

* In Scripture is this passage—"The sun shall not harm

thee by day, nor the moon by night." It is perhaps not

generally known that the moon, in Egypt, has the effect of

producing blindness to those who sleep with the face exposed

to its rays, to which circumstance the passage evidently

alludes.

They are light on the tresses,

But lead on the heart.

Ligeia! Ligeia!

My beautiful one!

Whose harshest idea

Will to melody run,

O! is it thy will

On the breezes to toss?

Or, capriciously still,

*Like the lone Albatross,

Incumbent on night

(As she on the air)

To keep watch with delight

On the harmony there?

Ligeia! whatever