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Land of the Caliph race, whose magic stories lore
hath brightened fancy's dreams on every kindred shore.
Where once thy hoaries danced beneath the diamonds gleam,
And raptured swam on pleasures gayest stream.
Where now thy former genius? Ah! where now that hand
Which beckning called the willing guests at thy command
To banquet in some ruby hall on nectared sweets
By Hebes served on blusing rose leaf seats?
Where now [illegible] enchanted ground, the Garden, and the hall?
The laughter loving fairy? Alas! departed all.
No brilliant token left, no grateful of the friends to tell
Where passed some glowing scene, beneath Aladdis spell;
Thy splendor gone; eclipsed thy former meed
All but the horseman's restless eye, and his freind the fiery steed.
Midst storms of sand, the desert hath a charm
Yet here on earth his patriot heart to warm ;
His freedom loving soul, can feel no dread
from the sword impending oer Damocles guilty head
Nor racks, nor cruel Pacha's treacherous steel
Can make one Arab heart, the cringing homage feel
[W]here too thy child enjoys at falling dusk of even'
[So]me drops of bliss and some foretaste of his heaven; =
In shining myrtle groves, thy ardent youths prolong
to dark Gazelle eyed maids the adoring lovelit song =
There tender strains of music drick, and burning vows they breathe
And fairest orange blossoms there, in the bridal crown they wreathe
May 1 - 1840