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Moore, Thomas, 1779-1852

"The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Collected by Himself with Explanatory Notes"

[146]
"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."
Rapidly as comets run
To the embraces of the Sun;--
Fleeter than the starry brands
Flung at night from angel hands[147]
At those dark and daring sprites
Who would climb the empyreal heights,
Down the blue vault the PERI flies,
And lighted earthward by a glance
That just then broke from morning's eyes,
Hung hovering o'er our world's expanse.
But whither shall the Spirit go
To find this gift for Heaven;--"I know
The wealth," she cries, "of every urn
In which unnumbered rubies burn
Beneath the pillars of CHILMINAR:[148]
I know where the Isles of Perfume are[149]
Many a fathom down in the sea,
To the south of sun-bright ARABY;[150]
I know too where the Genii hid
The jewelled cup of their King JAMSHID,[151]
"With Life's elixir sparkling high--
"But gifts like these are not for the sky.
"Where was there ever a gem that shone
"Like the steps of ALLA'S wonderful Throne?
"And the Drops of Life--oh! what would they be
"In the boundless Deep of Eternity?"
While thus she mused her pinions fanned
The air of that sweet Indian land
Whose air is balm, whose ocean spreads
O'er coral rocks and amber beds,[152]
Whose mountains pregnant by the beam
Of the warm sun with diamonds teem,
Whose rivulets are like rich brides,
Lovely, with gold beneath their tides,
Whose sandal groves and bowers of spice
Might be a Peri's Paradise!
But crimson now her rivers ran
With human blood--the smell of death
Came reeking from those spicy bowers,
And man the sacrifice of man
Mingled his taint with every breath
Upwafted from the innocent flowers.


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