conclusion, as 'tis natural for people to warm themselves by their
own discourse, especially on a subject in which one is deeply
concerned; 'tis certainly far more touching than our modern custom of
concluding a song of passion with a turn which is inconsistent with
it. The first verse is a description of the season of the year; all
the country now being full of nightingales, whole amours with roses,
is an Arabian fable, as well known here as any part of Ovid amongst
us, and is much the same as if an English poem should begin, by
saying,--"_Now Philomela sings_." Or what if I turned the whole into
the style of English poetry, to see how it would look?

STANZA I.

"NOW Philomel renews her tender strain,
"Indulging all the night her pleasing pain;

"I sought in groves to hear the wanton sing,
"There saw a face more beauteous than the spring.

"Your large stag-eyes, where thousand glories play,
"As bright, as lively, but as wild as they.

STANZA II.

"In vain I'm promis'd such a heav'nly prize,
"Ah! cruel SULTAN! who delay'st my joys!
"While piercing charms transfix my am'rous heart,
"I dare not snatch one kiss to ease the smart.

"Those eyes! like, &c.

STANZA III.

"Your wretched lover in these lines complains;
"From those dear beauties rise his killing pains.

"When will the hour of wish'd-for bliss arrive?
"Must I wait longer?--Can I wait and live?

"Ah! bright Sultana! maid divinely fair!
"Can you, unpitying, see the pains I bear?

STANZA IV.

"The heavens relenting, hear my piercing cries,
"I loathe the light, and sleep forsakes my eyes;
"Turn thee, Sultana, ere thy lover dies:

"Sinking to earth, I fight the last adieu,
"Call me, my goddess, and my life renew.

"My queen! my angel! my fond heart's desire!
"I rave--my bosom burns with heav'nly fire!
"Pity that passion, which thy charms inspire."

I have taken the liberty, in the second verse, of following what I
suppose the true sense of the author, though not literally expressed.
By his saying, _He went down to admire the beauty of the vines, and
her charms ravished his soul_, I understand a poetical fiction, of
having first seen her in a garden, where he was admiring the beauty
of the spring. But I could not forbear