("Entre deux rocs d'un noir d'ÉbÈne.")
{XXVII., November, 1828.}

Between two ebon rocks
Behold yon sombre den,
Where brambles bristle like the locks
Of wool between the horns of scapegoat banned by men!

Remote in ruddy fog
Still hear the tiger growl
At the lion and stripÈd dog
That prowl with rusty throats to taunt and roar and howl;

Whilst other monsters fast
The hissing basilisk;
The hippopotamus so vast,
And the boa with waking appetite made brisk!

The orfrey showing tongue,
The fly in stinging mood,
The elephant that crushes strong
And elastic bamboos an the scorpion's brood;

And the men of the trees
With their families fierce,
Till there is not one scorching breeze
But brings here its venom—its horror to pierce—

Yet, rather there be lone,
'Mid all those horrors there,
Than hear the sickly honeyed tone
And see the swimming eyes of Noormahal the Fair!

{Footnote 1: Noormahal (Arabic) the light of the house; some of the
Orientals deem fair hair and complexion a beauty.}