One with her flushed cheek laid on her white arm,
And raven ringlets gathered in dark crowd
Above her brow, lay dreaming soft and warm;

And smiling through her dream, as through a clou.
The moon breaks, half unveiled each further charm,
As, slightly stirring in her snowy shroud,
Her beauties seized the unconscious hour of night
All bashfully to struggle into light.

This is no bull, although it sounds so; for

'Twas night, but there were lamps, as hath been said. A third's all pallid aspect offered more

The traits of sleeping sorrow, and betrayed
Through the heaved breast the dream of some far shore
Beloved and deplored; while slowly strayed

(As night dew, on a cypress glittering, tinges
The black bough) tear-drops through her eyes' dark fringes.

A fourth as marble, statue-like and still,

Lay in a breathless, hushed, and stony sleep;
White, cold, and pure, as looks a frozen rill,

Or the snow minaret on an Alpine steep,
Or Lot's wife done in salt-or what you will ;-
My similes are gathered in a heap;
So pick and choose-perhaps you'll be content
With a carved lady on a monument.

And, lo! a fifth appears ;-and what is she?
A lady of a certain age,' which means
Certainly aged-what her years might be

I know not, never counting past their teens ;
But there she slept, not quite so fair to see,

As ere that awful period intervenes

Which lays both men and women on the shelf,

To meditate upon their sins and self.

The slumbers of the odalisques is broken by a loud scream from Dudù. The whole of the seraglio are awakened by it, and throng with the mother of the maids about the bed of the girl, who, in answer to their inquiries, says that she had a frightful dream, which caused her to cry out. The matron scolds her for disturbing her companions, and particularly for having frightened the new-comer. Of this, however

she is at least guiltless, for Juanna is lying in a sound sleep by her side, and not only is not disturbed by the scream, but does not wake until after repeated shaking by the assembled odalisques. The matron threatens to remove Juanna from Dudu's couch, but at length is pacified by the former's intercession: the ladies retire to their separate couches, and the night passes without any further noise. The whole of this incident is taken from a licentious French book, and has not even the poor merit of being original.

The waking of the sultana is well told:

With the first ray, or rather grey, of morn,
Gulleyaz rose from restlessness; and pale
As Passion rises, with its bosom worn,

Arrayed herself with mantle, gem, and veil :
The nightingale that sings with the deep thorn,
Which fable places in her breast of wail,

Is lighter far of heart and voice than those

Whose headlong passions form their proper woes.

The sultan having quitted her, she enters her boudoir, whither she summons the faithful Baba, and puts a thousand questions to him respecting Juan. These are all very perplexing to answer, for he knows that the truth will be highly displeasing to the sultana, and yet he dares not lie. He pursues a midd course, and tells her highness that he was obliged to leave the youth in the care of the mother of the maids he tells, too, where he slept; but he does not say a word of Dudu's dream. The intelligence fills her with rage; dissappointed passion almost bursts her heart; while the necessity of adopting some measures to prevent the detection of her imperfect intention agonizes her soul:

She stood a monent as a Pythoness

Stands on her tripod, agonized, and full

Of inspiration gathered from distress,

When all the heart-strings like wild horses pull

The heart asunder ;-then, as more or less

Their speed abated or their strength grew dull,
She sunk down on her seat by slow degrees,

And bowed her throbbing head o'er trembling knees.
Her face declined and was unseen; her hair
Fell in long tresses like the weeping willow

Published by J. Robins and Co. London, November 26, 1824.

Sweeping the marble underneath her chair,
Or rather sofa, (for it was all pillow,
A low, soft, Ottoman,) and black Despair

Stirred up and down her bosom like a billow,
Which rushes to some shore, whose shingles check
Its farther course, but must receive its wreck.

Her head hung down, and her long hair in stooping
Concealed her features better than a veil ;
And one hand o'er the Ottoman lay drooping,
White, waxen, and as alabaster pale :
Would that I were a painter, to be grouping
All that a poet drags into detail!

Oh that my words were colours! but their tints
May serve perhaps as outlines or slight hints.

She bids Baba bring Dudù and Juan before her, and bids him also have the boat ready by the secret portal. Baba, who knows too well the fatal meaning of this order, and who, if he cares little for the lives of the victims which he knows are likely to be sacrificed, has some regard for his own, which may be brought into jeopardy by the intended vengeance of Gulleyaz, endeavours to divert her from it. His entreaties are in vain, and in this posture of affairs the canto breaks off.

The seventh canto is of a warlike character, and begins, after a short exordium, with describing the fortress of Ismail, a very strong place on the Danube, and deemed by the Turks, who held it, to be impregnable. It was attacked by the Russian forces, and, after frequent fruitless attempts, it seemed that the opinion of the Turks was well founded. The Prince Potemkin, tired of the delay, sent General Souvaroff, whose talents and bravery were well known, to assume the command of the besieging force, with the short instructions contained in the following sentence- You will take Ismail, at whatever price!' The arrival of Souvaroff restores the declining spirits of the Russian soldiery, and his discipline soon puts them in a situation to attempt the assault again with a better prospect of success. The facts of the following stanzas are taken from an authentic history of the siege :

At full gallop drew

In sight two horsemen, who were deemed Cossacques
For some time, till they came in nearer view.

They had but little baggage at their backs;