THE

BRIDE OF ABY DOS,

A TURKISH TALE.

Had we never loved so kindly,
Had we never loved so blindly,
Never met or never parted,

We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

BURNS.

TO

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

LORD HOLLAND,

THIS TALE

IS INSCRIBED, WITH

EVERY SENTIMENT OF REGARD

AND RESPECT,

BY HIS GRATEFULLY OBLIGED

AND SINCERE FRIEND,

BYRON.

THE

BRIDE OF ABYDOS.

CANTO I.

I.

Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle

Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime, Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime?

Know ye the land of the cedar and vine,

Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine;

Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppressed with perfume,
Wax faint o'er the gardens of gul ' in her bloom;
Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit,
And the voice of the nightingale never is mute;

Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky,
In colour though varied, in beauty may vie,

And the purple of Ocean is deepest in die;
Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine,
And all, save the spirit of man, is divine?

'Tis the clime of the East; 'tis the land of the Sun

Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done? 2

Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell

Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell.

II.

Begirt with many a gallant slave,
Apparelled as becomes the brave,