Sir William Jones. A PERSIAN SONG OF HAFIZ. SWEET WEET maid, if thou wouldst charm my sight, And bid these arms thy neck enfold; That rosy cheek, that lily hand, Would give thy poet more delight Than all Bocara's vaunted gold, Than all the gems of Samarcand. Boy, let yon liquid ruby flow, O! when these fair perfidious maids, In vain with love our bosoms glow: Speak not of fate: ah! change the theme, And talk of odours, talk of wine, Talk of the flowers that round us bloom: Beauty has such resistless power, But ah! sweet maid, my counsel hear What cruel answer have I heard? Go boldly forth, my simple lay, James Merrick. THE CHAMELEON. OFF FT has it been my lot to mark A proud, conceited, talking spark, With eyes that hardly served at most To guard their master 'gainst a post; Yet round the world the blade has been, To see whatever could be seen. Returning from his finished tour, Grown ten times perter than before; Whatever word you chance to drop, The travelled fool your mouth will stop: "Sir, if my judgment you'll allowI've seen-and sure I ought to know."So begs you'd pay a due submission, And acquiesce in his decision. Two travellers of such a cast, As o'er Arabia's wilds they passed, And on their way, in friendly chat, Now talked of this, and then of that; Discoursed awhile, 'mongst other matter, Of the Chameleon's form and nature. "A stranger animal," cries one, "Sure never lived beneath the sun: A lizard's body lean and long, A fish's head, a serpent's tongue, Its foot with triple claw disjoined; And what a length of tail behind! How slow its pace! and then its hue- "Hold there," the other quick replies, ""Tis green, I saw it with these eyes, As late with open mouth it lay, And warmed it in the sunny ray; Stretched at its ease the beast I viewed, And saw it eat the air for food." "I've seen it, sir, as well as you, 66 "Tis green, 'tis green, sir, I assure ye." "Green !” cries the other in a fury : Why, sir, d'ye think I've lost my eyes?" ""Twere no great loss," the friend replies; "For if they always serve you thus, You'll find them but of little use." 66 So high at last the contest rose, 66 68 Sirs," cries the umpire, cease your pother; The creature's neither one nor t'other. I caught the animal last night, And viewed it o'er by candle-light: I marked it well, 'twas black as jetYou stare-but sirs, I've got it yet, And can produce it."-" Pray, sir, do; I'll lay my life the thing is blue." "" 66 If "And I'll be sworn, that when you've seen Nor wonder if you find that none WHE HEN the sheep are in the fauld, when the cows When a' the weary warld to quiet rest are gane; Young Jamie loo'd me weel, and sought me for his bride; |