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PERSIAN ECLOGUES. Written originally for the ENTERTAINMENT OF THE Ladies of TAURIS. And now firſt tranſlated, &c.
Quod ſi non hìc tantas fructus oſtenderetur, & ſi ex his ſtudiis delectatis ſola pete⯑retur; tamen, ut opinor, hanc animi remiſſionein humaniſſimam ac liberaliſſi⯑mam judicaretis. CIC. pro Arch. Poeta.
LONDON: Printed for J. ROBERTS, in Warwick-Lane. 1742. (Price Six-pence.)
[] [...]
THE PREFACE.
[]IT is with the Writings of Mankind, in ſome Meaſure, as with their Complexi⯑ons or their Dreſs, each Nation hath a Peculiarity in all theſe, to diſtinguiſh it from the reſt of the World.
The Gravity of the Spaniard, and the Levity of the Frenchman, are as evident in all their Productions as in their Per⯑ſons themſelves; and the Stile of my Coun⯑trymen is as naturally Strong and Nervous, as that of an Arabian or Perſian is rich and figurative.
There is an Elegancy and Wildneſs of Thought which recommends all their Com⯑poſitions; and our Genius's are as much too cold for the Entertainment of ſuch Sen⯑timents, as our Climate is for their Fruits and Spices. If any of theſe Beauties are to be found in the following Eclogues, I hope my Reader will conſider them as an Argument of their being Original. I re⯑ceived them at the Hands of a Merchant, who had made it his Buſineſs to enrich him⯑ſelf [iv] with the Learning, as well as the Silks and Carpets of the Perſians. The little Infor⯑mation I could gather concerning their Au⯑thor, was, That his Name was Mahamed, and that he was a Native of Tauris.
It was in that City that he died of a Diſtemper fatal in thoſe Parts, whilſt he was engag'd in celebrating the Victories of his favourite Monarch, the Great Abbas. As to the Eclogues themſelves, they give a very juſt View of the Miſeries, and Incon⯑veniencies, as well as the Felicities that at⯑tend one of the fineſt Countries in the Eaſt.
The Time of the Writing them was pro⯑bably in the Beginning of Sha Sultan Hoſ⯑ſeyn's Reign, the Succeſſor of Sefi or Soly⯑man the Second.
Whatever Defects, as, I doubt not, there will be many, fall under the Reader's Ob⯑ſervation, I hope his Candour will incline him to make the following Reflections:
That the Works of Orientals contain many Peculiarities, and that thro' Defect of Language few European Tranſlators can do them Juſtice.
ECLOGUE the FIRST.
SELIM; or, the Shepherd's Moral.
[5]SCENE, a Valley near Bagdat.
TIME, the MORNING.
YE Perſian Maids, attend your Poet's Lays,
And hear how Shepherds paſs their golden Days:
Not all are bleſt, whom Fortune's Hand ſuſtains
With Wealth in Courts, nor all that haunt the Plains:
Well may your Hearts believe the Truths I tell,
'Tis Virtue makes the Bliſs, where'er we dwell.
Thus Selim ſung; by ſacred Truth inſpir'd;
No Praiſe the Youth, but her's alone deſir'd:
Wiſe in himſelf, his meaning Songs convey'd
Informing Morals to the Shepherd Maid,
[6] Or taught the Swains that ſureſt Bliſs to find,
What Groves nor Streams beſtow, a virtuous Mind.
When ſweet and od'rous, like an Eaſtern Bride,
The radiant Morn reſum'd her orient Pride,
When wanton Gales, along the Valleys play,
Breathe on each Flow'r, and bear their Sweets away:
By Tigris' Wand'rer Waves he ſate, and ſung
This uſeful Leſſon for the Fair and Young.
Ye Perſian Dames, he ſaid, to ye belong,
Well may they pleaſe, the Morals of my Song;
No fairer Maids, I truſt, than ye are found,
Grac'd with ſoft Arts, the peopled World around!
The Morn that lights you, to your Loves ſupplies
Each gentler Ray delicious to your Eyes:
For ye thoſe Flow'rs her fragrant Hands beſtow,
And yours the Love that Kings delight to know.
Yet think not theſe, all beauteous as they are,
The beſt kind Bleſſings Heav'n can grant the Fair!
Who truſt alone in Beauty's feeble Ray,
* Balſora's Pearls have more of Worth, than they;
[7] Drawn from the Deep, they ſparkle to the Sight,
And all-unconſcious ſhoot a luſt'rous Light:
Such are the Maids, and ſuch the Charms they boaſt,
By Senſe unaided, or to Virtue loſt.
Self-flattering Sex! your Hearts believe in vain
That Love ſhall blind, when once he fires the Swain;
Or hope a Lover by your Faults to win,
As Spots on Ermin beautify the Skin:
Who ſeeks ſecure to rule, be firſt her Care
Each ſofter Virtue that adorns the Fair,
Each tender Paſſion Man delights to find,
The lov'd Perfections of a female Mind.
Bleſt were the Days, when Wiſdom held her Reign,
And Shepherds ſought her on the ſilent Plain,
With Truth ſhe wedded in the ſecret Grove,
The fair-eyed Truth, and Daughters bleſs'd their Love.
O haſte, fair Maids, ye Virtues come away,
Sweet Peace and Plenty lead you on your way!
[8] The balmy Shrub, for ye ſhall love our Shore,
By Ind' excell'd or Araby no more.
[...]oſt to our Fields, for ſo the Fates ordain,
[...]he dear Deſerters ſhall return again.
O come, thou Modeſty, as they decree,
The Roſe may then improve her Bluſh by Thee.
Here make thy Court amidſt our rural Scene,
And Shepherd-Girls ſhall own Thee for their Queen.
With Thee be Chaſtity, of all afraid,
Diſtruſting all, a wiſe ſuſpicious Maid;
But Man the moſt; not more the Mountain Doe
Holds the ſwift Falcon for her deadly Foe.
Cold is her Breaſt, like Flow'rs that drink the Dew,
A ſilken Veil conceals her from the View.
No wild Deſires amidſt thy Train be known,
But Faith, whoſe Heart is fix'd on one alone:
Deſponding Meekneſs with her down-caſt Eyes,
And friendly Pity full of tender Sighs;
And Love the laſt: By theſe your Hearts approve,
Theſe are the Virtues that muſt lead to Love.
[9]
Thus ſung the Swain, and Eaſtern Legends ſay,
The Maids of Bagdat verify'd the Lay:
Dear to the Plains, the Virtues came along,
The Shepherds lov'd, and Selim bleſs'd his Song.
The END of the Firſt ECLOGUE.
ECLOGUE the SECOND.
HASSAN; or, the Camel-driver.
[10]SCENE, the Deſart.
TIME, MID-DAY.
IN ſilent Horror o'er the Deſart-Waſte
The Driver Haſſan with his Camels paſt.
One Cruiſe of Water on his Back he bore,
And his light Scrip contain'd a ſcanty Store:
A Fan of painted Feathers in his Hand,
To guard his ſhaded Face from ſcorching Sand.
The ſultry Sun had gain'd the middle Sky,
And not a Tree, and not an Herb was nigh.
[11] The Beaſts, with Pain, their duſty Way purſue,
Shrill roar'd the Winds, and dreary was the View!
With deſp'rate Sorrow wild th' affrighted Man
Thrice ſigh'd, thrice ſtrook his Breaſt, and thus began:
Sad was the Hour, and luckleſs was the Day,
When firſt from Schiraz' Walls I bent my Way.
Ah! little thought I of the blaſting Wind,
The Thirſt or pinching Hunger that I find!
Bethink thee, Haſſan, where ſhall Thirſt aſſuage,
When fails this Cruiſe, his unrelenting Rage?
Soon ſhall this Scrip its precious Load reſign,
Then what but Tears and Hunger ſhall be thine?
Ye mute Companions of my Toils, that bear
In all my Griefs a more than equal Share!
Here, where no Springs, in Murmurs break away,
Or Moſs-crown'd Fountains mitigate the Day:
In vain ye hope the green Delights to know,
Which Plains more bleſt, or verdant Vales beſtow,
Here Rocks alone, and taſteleſs Sands are found,
And faint and ſickly Winds for ever howl around.
Sad was the Hour, &c.
[12]
Curſt be the Gold and Silver which perſuade
Weak Men to follow far-fatiguing Trade.
The Lilly-Peace outſhines the ſilver Store,
And Life is dearer than the golden Ore.
Yet Money tempts us o'er the Deſart brown,
To ev'ry diſtant Mart, and wealthy Town:
Full oft we tempt the Land, and oft the Sea,
And are we only yet repay'd by Thee?
Ah! why was Ruin ſo attractive made,
Or why fond Man ſo eaſily betray'd?
Why heed we not, whilſt mad we haſte along,
The gentle Voice of Peace, or Pleaſure's Song?
Or wherefore think the flow'ry Mountain's Side,
The Fountain's Murmurs, and the Valley's Pride,
Why think we theſe leſs pleaſing to behold,
Than dreary Deſarts, if they lead to Gold?
Sad was the Hour, &c.
O ceaſe, my Fears! all frantic as I go,
When Thought creates unnumber'd Scenes of Woe,
[13] What if the Lion in his Rage I meet!
Oft in the Duſt I view his printed Feet:
And fearful! oft, when Day's declining Light
Yields her pale Empire to the Mourner Night,
By Hunger rous'd, he ſcours the groaning Plain,
Gaunt Wolves and ſullen Tygers in his Train:
Before them Death with Shrieks directs their Way,
Fills the wild Yell, and leads them to their Prey.
Sad was the Hour, &c.
At that dead Hour the ſilent Aſp ſhall creep,
If ought of reſt I find, upon my Sleep:
Or ſome ſwoln Serpent twiſt his Scales around,
And wake to Anguiſh with a burning Wound.
Thrice happy they, the wiſe contented Poor,
From Luſt of Wealth, and Dread of Death ſecure;
They tempt no Deſarts, and no Griefs they find;
Peace rules the Day, where Reaſon rules the Mind.
Sad was the Hour, &c.
O hapleſs Youth! for ſhe thy Love hath won,
The tender Zara, will be moſt undone!
[14] Big ſwell'd my Heart, and own'd the pow'rful Maid,
When faſt ſhe dropt her Tears, as thus ſhe ſaid;
" Farewel the Youth whom Sighs could not detain,
" Whom Zara's breaking Heart implor'd in vain;
" Yet as thou go'ſt, may ev'ry Blaſt ariſe,
" Weak and unfelt as theſe rejected Sighs!
" Safe o'er the Wild, no Perils mayſt thou ſee,
" No Griefs endure, nor weep, falſe Youth, like me."
O let me ſafely to the Fair return,
Say with a Kiſs, ſhe muſt not, ſhall not mourn.
Go teach my Heart, to loſe its painful Fears,
Recall'd by Wiſdom's Voice, and Zara's Tears.
He ſaid, and call'd on Heav'n to bleſs the Day,
When back to Schiraz' Walls he bent his Way.
The END of the Second ECLOGUE.
ECLOGUE the THIRD.
ABRA; or, the Georgian Sultana.
[15]SCENE, a Foreſt.
TIME, the EVENING.
IN Georgia's Land, where Tefflis' Tow'rs are ſeen,
In diſtant View along the level Green,
While Ev'ning Dews enrich the glitt'ring Glade,
And the tall Foreſts caſt a longer Shade,
Amidſt the Maids of Zagen's peaceful Grove,
Emyra ſung the pleaſing Cares of Love.
Of Abra firſt began the tender Strain,
Who led her Youth, with Flocks upon the Plain:
[16] At Morn ſhe came thoſe willing Flocks to lead,
Where Lillies rear them in the wat'ry Mead;
From early Dawn the live-long Hours ſhe told,
'Till late at ſilent Eve ſhe penn'd the Fold.
Deep in the Grove beneath the ſecret Shade,
A various Wreath of od'rous Flow'rs ſhe made:
*Gay-motley'd Pinks and ſweet Junquils ſhe choſe,
The Violet-blue, that on the Moſs-bank grows;
All-ſweet to Senſe, the flaunting Roſe was there;
The finiſh'd Chaplet well-adorn'd her Hair.
Great Abbas chanc'd that fated Morn to ſtray,
By Love conducted from the Chace away;
Among the vocal Vales he heard her Song,
And ſought the Vales and echoing Groves among:
At length he found, and woo'd the rural Maid,
She knew the Monarch, and with Fear obey'd.
Be ev'ry Youth like Royal Abbas mov'd,
And ev'ry Georgian Maid like Abra lov'd.
[17]
The Royal Lover bore her from the Plain,
Yet ſtill her Crook and bleating Flock remain:
Oft as ſhe went, ſhe backward turn'd her View,
And bad that Crook, and bleating Flock Adieu.
Fair happy Maid! to other Scenes remove,
To richer Scenes of golden Pow'r and Love!
Go leave the ſimple Pipe, and Shepherd's Strain,
With Love delight thee, and with Abbas reign.
Be ev'ry Youth, &c.
Yet midſt the Blaze of Courts ſhe fix'd her Love,
On the cool Fountain, or the ſhady Grove;
Still with the Shepherd's Innocence her Mind
To the ſweet Vale, and flow'ry Mead inclin'd,
And oft as Spring renew'd the Plains with Flow'rs,
Breath'd his ſoft Gales, and led the fragrant Hours,
With ſure Return ſhe ſought the ſylvan Scene,
The breezy Mountains, and the Foreſts green.
Her Maids around her mov'd, a duteous Band!
Each bore a Crook all-rural in her Hand:
[18] Some ſimple Lay, of Flocks and Herds they ſung,
With Joy the Mountain, and the Foreſt rung.
Be ev'ry Youth, &c.
And oft the Royal Lover left the Care,
And Thorns of State, attendant on the Fair:
Oft to the Shades and low-roof'd Cots retir'd,
Or ſought the Vale where firſt his Heart was fir'd;
A Ruſſet Mantle, like a Swain, he wore,
And thought of Crowns and buſy Courts no more.
Be ev'ry Youth, &c.
Bleſt was the Life, that Royal Abbas led:
Sweet was his Love, and innocent his Bed.
What if in Wealth the noble Maid excel;
The ſimple Shepherd Girl can love as well.
Let thoſe who rule on Perſia's jewell'd Throne,
Be fam'd for Love, and gentleſt Love alone:
Or wreath, like Abbas, full of fair Renown,
The Lover's Myrtle, with the Warrior's Crown.
[19]
Oh happy Days! the Maids around her ſay,
Oh haſte, profuſe of Bleſſings, haſte away!
Be ev'ry Youth, like Royal Abbas, mov'd;
And ev'ry Georgian Maid, like Abra, lov'd.
The END of the Third ECLOGUE.
ECLOGUE the FOURTH.
AGIB and SECANDER; or, the Fugitives.
[20]SCENE, a Mountain in Circaſſia.
TIME, MIDNIGHT.
IN fair Circaſſia, where to Love inclin'd,
Each Swain was bleſt, for ev'ry Maid was kind!
At that ſtill Hour, when awful Midnight reigns,
And none, but Wretches, haunt the twilight Plains;
What Time the Moon had hung her Lamp on high,
And paſt in Radiance, thro' the cloudleſs Sky:
Sad o'er the Dews, two Brother Shepherds fled,
Where wild'ring Fear and deſp'rate Sorrow led.
[21] Faſt as they preſt their Flight, behind them lay
Wide ravag'd Plains, and Valleys ſtole away.
Along the Mountain's bending Sides they ran,
Till faint and weak Secander thus began.
SECANDER.
O ſtay thee, Agib, for my Feet deny,
No longer friendly to my Life, to fly.
Friend of my Heart, O turn thee and ſurvey,
Trace our ſad Flight thro' all its length of Way!
And firſt review that long-extended Plain,
And yon wide Groves, already paſt with Pain!
Yon ragged Cliff, whoſe dang'rous Path we try'd,
And laſt this lofty Mountain's weary Side!
AGIB.
Weak as thou art, yet hapleſs muſt thou know
The Toils of Flight, or ſome ſeverer Woe!
Still as I haſte, the Tartar ſhouts behind,
And Shrieks and Sorrows load the ſad'ning Wind:
In rage of Heart, with Ruin in his Hand,
He blaſts our Harveſts, and deforms our Land.
[22] Yon Citron Grove, whence firſt in Fear we came,
Droops its fair Honours to the conqu'ring Flame:
Far fly the Swains, like us, in deep Deſpair,
And leave to ruffian Bands their fleecy Care.
SECANDER.
Unhappy Land, whoſe Bleſſings tempt the Sword,
In vain, unheard, thou call'ſt thy Perſian Lord!
In vain, thou court'ſt him, helpleſs to thine Aid,
To ſhield the Shepherd, and protect the Maid,
Far off in thoughtleſs Indolence reſign'd,
Soft Dreams of Love and Pleaſure ſooth his Mind:
'Midſt fair Sultanas loſt in idle Joy,
No Wars alarm him, and no Fears annoy.
AGIB.
Yet theſe green Hills, in Summer's ſultry Heat,
Have lent the Monarch oft a cool Retreat,
Sweet to the Sight is Zabran's flow'ry Plain,
And once by Maids and Shepherds lov'd in vain!
No more the Virgins ſhall delight to rove,
By Sargis' Banks or Irwan's ſhady Grove:
[23] On Tarkie's Mountain catch the cooling Gale,
Or breathe the Sweets of Aly's flow'ry Vale:
Fair Scenes! but ah no more with Peace poſſeſt,
With Eaſe alluring, and with Plenty bleſt.
No more the Shepherds whit'ning Seats appear,
Nor the kind Products of a bounteous Year;
No more the Dale with ſnowy Bloſſoms crown'd,
But Ruin ſpreads her baleful Fires around.
SECANDER.
In vain Circaſſia boaſts her ſpicy Groves,
For ever fam'd for pure and happy Loves:
In vain ſhe boaſts her faireſt of the Fair,
Their Eyes' blue languiſh, and their golden Hair!
Thoſe Eyes in Tears, their fruitleſs Grief muſt ſend,
Thoſe Hairs the Tartar's cruel Hand ſhall rend.
AGIB.
Ye Georgian Swains that piteous learn from far
Circaſſia's Ruin, and the Waſte of War:
Some weightier Arms than Crooks and Staves prepare,
To ſhield your Harveſts, and defend your Fair:
[24] The Turk and Tartar like Deſigns purſue,
Fix'd to deſtroy, and ſtedfaſt to undo.
Wild as his Land, in native Deſerts bred,
By Luſt incited, or by Malice led,
The Villain-Arab, as he prowls for Prey,
Oft marks with Blood and waſting Flames the Way;
Yet none ſo cruel as the Tartar Foe,
To Death inur'd, and nurſt in Scenes of Woe.
He ſaid, when loud along the Vale was heard
A ſhriller Shriek, and nearer Fires appear'd:
Th' affrighted Shepherds thro' the Dews of Night
Wide o'er the Moon-light Hills, renew'd their Flight.
The END of the Fourth and laſt ECLOGUE.
[][][]Notes
*
The Gulph of that Name, famous for the Pearl-fiſhery.
*
That theſe Flowers are found in very great Abundance in ſome of the Provinces of Perſia; ſee the Modern Hiſtory of the ingenious Mr. Salmon.
- Zitationsvorschlag für dieses Objekt
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 5383 Persian eclogues Written originally for the entertainment of the ladies of Tauris And now first translated c. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-5DAF-8