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Now, though at Bancok, as in London,
The laws forbid you to be undone :
No code, devised however cleverly,
Can bar one bent to play the Beverley.
So, by some Stukelys of the fashion,
Living like

other's cash on-
(And faith, the prettiest way to feast :)
Fiam had been most sadly fleeced.
Folks there, are now but slowly learning

That beautiful resource called “ credit ;" And Fiam to the future turning,

Began to see good cause to dread it. Yet for himself, foreboding smote

The doating father's heart less—ah ! less Than those who would not have a groat,

When left upon the world papa-less ! And there, where both reward and penance Are held decreed to this world's tenants. Where every piece of luck that raises One's fortune, but one's virtue praises; And the calamities that dish us Are merely proofs that we are vicious ; 'Twas clear, with such a faith, and nation Our twin's peculiar situation,

* Rank in this life, is held by the Boudhists, as a proof of moral excellence in a former-so are all worldly blessings. In Siam and the Burman empire, a man acts as well as he can, in the hope of being made a lord after he dies--just as in certain other countries, a man acts as ill as he can, in the hope of being made a lord before that event.

If coupled with an empty purse,
Would be esteemed no trivial curse;
And that the world would act most oddly,
If kind to sorrows so ungodly.
This foresight then, had made the father
Yield to the patriot's scheme,-nay, rather
A project that at once appeared
To cure the very ills he feared,
The fortune he had lost replace,
Rob his boy's doom of its disgrace,
And make them, with such slender labours,
Quite independent of their neighbours,
He deemed so strangely happy, that
He gave the honour to the Nat. *
Nay, to nought less he could compare it,

Than to the might of those who muse
On man in the Zadumaharit,+

And stand three leagues—without their shoes ! Thus, to his guest his sons committing, You'll own in Fiam not unfitting. No hardness of the heart betraying, But a sire's anxious care displaying.

Not so his neighbours !-long and loud
Tattled the fashionable crowd:

* Nat-Superior beings in the Boudhist religion.

+ The Nat of the Zudumaharit are of the most exalted order; their height is half a juzana ; a juzana being six Burma leagues, and four

ratoen.

They were so shock'd, they scarce could speak,

Especially, of course, the women all ;
They'd always thought him very weak,

But this was absolutely criminal.
What, send away one's sons from home,
On bits of wood o'er waves to roam !
Travel, indeed !-what for?-was not
All wisdom centered in one spot ?
All virtue, learning, bliss, pomp, show,

All with which Boudha could supply 'em,
To see, hear, taste, enjoy, and know,

-Were they not all confined to Siam ? Travel, indeed-with such a fellow too, Whose skin was any thing but yellow too!

While thus his friends (friends are so moral
About our acts !)—with Fiam quarrel,
We'll listen to our brothers, walking
Alone, and close engaged in talking.
A wild design is their's, I ween,
Pray Heaven, it ripen to a scene.
“I hear," quoth Chang, “ the sorcerer's art

Surpasseth Reason's cramp'd believing ; “ And—just look round, Ching !--for my part,

“ I dare say, there is some deceiving ; “ Yet, ere our land, our home we change, “ Launch in a scheme that seems so strange, “ Trust hope, and life to fortune frail, “ And with our guest, in short, set sail,

66

66 "Twere well to hear what one so wise
“ As he we speak of would advise :
“ Or, since perchance, to our intent
“ The will may be already bent,
Rather, 'twere well to lift the veil

“ Athwart the future's gloom ;
“And know what peril may assail,

“ Or pleasure soothe-our doom !"

“Well said,” cried Ching," the scheme's a bold one ; 66 One likes to have one's fortune told one. 66 'Tis new Moon, by-the-bye, to-night,

• It can't do any harm to hear him! “ To start betimes would be but right;

“ We live, you know, by no means near him.” Rejoiced to find gay Ching so mettled, Chang nods assent—the affair is settled.

In those dark climes of farthest Ind

Yet reigns that weird, and wond'rous Science, To which, ev'n here, the illumin'd mind

Hath sometimes quail'd from its defiance. Dread relics of that solemn lore,

From eldest Egypt, haply brought, And to the Magian Seers of yore

In terror and in mystery taught By the eternal Stars ;-what time

Night deepened to her ghastly noon,

And, paled beneath the muttered rhyme,

Grew faint the pausing Moon.
There, while the sparr'd, and dropping caves

Murmured, as from their depth were called New Shapes released from former graves,

And the earth's dreader beings--thralled
To grosser ether, by the Power
And the dark Rulers of the Hour !

While Nature sickened into dearth,
The swift winds fell

upon

the With Fear struck dead ; and Silence palled

The torpor of the tomb-like earth ;There, by their rocky homes, the Seers Of the Dark Wisdom lonely sate,

And from no human oracle,

Nor Druid shade, or Delphic cell, But from the arch untrodden spheres

Drew forth the voice of Fate !

waves

Ye whom the Magian spell’d of old,

The orbed and glorious Thrones of Heaven, Will

ye

in truth no more unfold The lore to Earth's grey Fathers given ? What wonderous arts that pierce the deep

Of Time, and from slow Nature win Her secrets, aye, her empire; sleep

Your hush'd and hoarding shrines within !

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