A single rose is shedding there

It's lonely lustre, meek and pale:

It looks as planted by Despair

So white-so faint-the slightest gale

Might whirl the leaves on high;

And yet, though storms and blight assail,

And hands more rude than wintry sky

May wring it from the stem-in vain

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To-morrow sees it bloom again!

The stalk some spirit gently rears,

And waters with celestial tears;

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For well may maids of Helle deem

That this can be no earthly flower,

Which mocks the tempest's withering hour,

And buds unsheltered by a bower;

Nor droops, though spring refuse her shower,

Nor woos the summer beam:

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To it the livelong night there sings

A bird unseen-but not remote: Invisible his airy wings,

And yet so sweet the tears they shed,

'Tis sorrow so unmixed with dread,

They scarce can bear the morn to break

That melancholy spell,

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And longer yet would weep and wake,

He sings so wild and well!

But when the day-blush bursts from high

Expires that magic melody.

And some have been who could believe

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(So fondly youthful dreams deceive,

Yet harsh be they that blame)

That note so piercing and profound

Will shape and syllable its sound

For there, as Helle's legends tell,

Next morn 'twas found where Selim fell;

Lashed by the tumbling tide, whose wave

Denied his bones a holier grave:

And there by night, reclined, 'tis said,

Is seen a ghastly turbaned head:

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And hence extended by the billow,

"Tis named the "Pirate-phantom's pillow!"

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Where first it lay that mourning flower

Hath flourished; flourisheth this hour,

Alone and dewy, coldly pure and pale;

As weeping Beauty's cheek at Sorrow's tale!

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NOTES

TO THE

BRIDE OF ABYDOS.

Note 1, page 107, line 8.

Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gúl in her bloom.

66 Gúl," the rose.

Note 2, page 108, line 9.

Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done?
"Souls made of fire, and children of the Sun,

"With whom Revenge is Virtue."

YOUNG'S REVENGE.

Note 3, page 112, line 8.

With Mejnoun's tale, or Sadi's song.

Mejnoun and Leila, the Romeo and Juliet of the East.

Sadi, the moral poet of Persia.

Note 4, page 112, line 9.

Till I, who heard the deep tambour.

Tambour, Turkish drum, which sounds at sunrise, noon, and twilight.