rian purple drest;
The rich _Jonquils_ their golden beams display,
And shine in glories emulating day;
The peaceful groves their verdant leaves retain,
The streams still murmur undefil'd with rain,
And tow'ring greens adorn the fruitful plain.
The warbling kind uninterrupted sing,
Warm'd with enjoyments of perpetual spring.

HERE, at my window, I at once survey
The crowded city and resounding sea;
In distant views the _Asian_ mountains rise,
And lose their snowy summits in the skies;
Above those mountains proud _Olympus_ towers,
The parliamental seat of heavenly powers.
New to the sight, my ravish'd eyes admire
Each gilded crescent and each antique spire,
The marble mosques, beneath whose ample domes
Fierce warlike _sultans_ sleep in peaceful tombs;
Those lofty structures, once the Christians boast,
Their names, their beauty, and their honours lost;
Those altars bright with gold and sculpture grac'd,
By barb'rous zeal of savage foes defac'd:
_Sophia_ alone her ancient name retains,
Tho' unbelieving vows her shrine profanes;
Where holy saints have died in sacred cells,
Where monarchs pray'd, the frantic _Dervise_ dwells.
How art thou fall'n, imperial city, low!
Where are thy hopes of _Roman_ glory now?
Where are thy palaces by prelates rais'd?
Where _Grecian_ artists all their skill display'd,
Before the happy sciences decay'd;
So vast, that youthful kings might here reside,
So splendid, to content a patriarch's pride;
Convents where emperors profess'd of old,
Their labour'd pillars that their triumphs told;
Vain monuments of them that once were great,
Sunk undistinguish'd by one common fate;
One little spot, the tenure small contains,
Of _Greek_ nobility, the poor remains.
Where other _Helens_ with like powerful charms,
Had once engag'd the warring world in arms;
Those names which royal ancestors can boast,
In mean mechanic arts obscurely lost:
Those eyes a second _Homer_ might inspire,
Fix'd at the loom destroy their useless fire;
Griev'd at a view which struck upon my mind
The short-liv'd vanity of human kind.

IN gaudy objects I indulge my sight,
And turn where _Eastern pomp_ gives gay delight;
See the vast train in various habits drest,
By the bright scimitar and sable vest,
The proud vizier distinguish'd o'er the rest;
Six slaves in gay attire his bridle hold,
His bridle rich with gems, and stirrups gold;
His snowy steed adorn'd with costly pride,
Whole troops of soldiers mounted by his side,
T