The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 14, No. 404, December 12, 1829

The captain in vain applied the magic talisman to the charmed stone; the more potent shield of Muloch was within. Enraged at being thus thwarted, he demanded admittance. Abad made no reply, but, raising the enchanted hammer against the ponderous bulwark with his whole strength (and he felt as though gifted with more than mortal strength), he, at one tremendous blow, dislodged the stone which had stood at the entrance of the cave, amidst the shock of tempests and the convulsions of nature, from the creation of the world—as hard as adamant, heavy as gold, and as round as the balls on the cupolas of Bagdad. The bulk rolled down the ravine, bearing with it trees and fragments of rock; men and horses, and all meaner obstructions, were crushed to atoms beneath its weight, as it thundered down the sloping track, and occasionally fell over the steep precipices, which only served to increase its velocity! nor did it stop in its headlong career until it had annihilated the whole of the ranger band, and disappeared amidst the boiling foam of the angry Tigris!

Abad, wrapt in wonder, cast his eyes on the earth, to view the terrific instrument with which he had performed so wonderful an exploit; but, to add more to his astonishment, the hammer and shield had vanished!

Curiosity, and the hope of meeting his betrothed, now led him to explore the winding recesses of the mystic cavern, which consisted of numerous archways—some artificial, others, the natural formation of subterranean rocks, leading to a large apartment, in which were deposited the spoils which a century of plunder had contributed to accumulate. Whilst feasting his eyes on the rich piles of jewellery, and reviewing the bags of gold which everywhere presented themselves, his eyes met the features of a female. He could not be mistaken—he looked again as she advanced nearer the light—it was the beauteous Ada, still young and lovely! Bagdad did not possess such a maiden, nor did poet ever paint a fairer form! Abad thought her nothing inferior to the Houris of Paradise. She fulfilled every expectation through a long and virtuous life, during which time they enjoyed the ill-gotten wealth of the ranger band; and, although the splendour of their living was exceeded only by that of the Caliph's, they were bountiful to their dependents: they built an asylum for the destitute—were universally beloved and respected—and their magnificence was only surpassed by their benevolence!

CYMBELINE.

OLD POETS

SHAME

Shame sticks ever close to the ribs of honour,
Great men are never found after it:
It leaves some ache or other in their names still,
Which their posterity feels at ev'ry weather.

    MIDDLETON.

PARENTS

From damned deeds abstain,
From lawless riots and from pleasure's vain;
If not regarding of thy own degree,
Yet in behalf of thy posterity.
For we are docible to imitate.
Depraved pleasures though degenerate.
Be careful therefore least thy son admit
By ear or eye things filthy or unfit.

    LODGE.

SIN

Shame follows sin, disgrace is daily given,
Impiety will out, never so closely done,
No walls can hide us from the eye of heaven,
For shame must end what wickedness begun,
Forth breaks reproach when we least think thereon.

    DANIELL.

WISDOM

A wise man poor
Is like a sacred book that's never read,
T' himself he lives, and to all else seems dead.
This age thinks better of a gilded fool,
Than of thread-bare saint in Wisdom's school

    DEKKAR.

CHARITY

She was a woman in the freshest age,
Of wondrous beauty, and of bounty rare,
With goodly grace, and comely personage.
That was on earth not easy to compare,
Full of great love; but Cupid's wanton snare
As hell she hated, chaste in work and will,
Her neck and breast were ever open bare,
That aye thereof her babes might suck their fill,
The rest was all in yellow robes arrayed still,
A multitude of babes about her hung,
Playing their sports that joyed her to behold,
Whom still she fed, while they were weak and young,
But thrust them forth still as they waxed old,
And on her head she wore a tire of gold;
Adorn'd with gems and ouches fair,
Whose passing price unneath was to be told,
And by her side there sat a gentle pair
Of turtle-doves, she sitting in an ivory chair.

    SPENSER.
It is a work of Charity God knows,
The reconcilement of two mortal foes.

    MIDDLETON.

COURAGE

When the air is calm and still, as dead and deaf
And under heaven quakes not an aspen leaf:
When seas are calm and thousand vessels fleet
Upon the sleeping seas with passage sweet;
And when the variant wind is still and lone
The cunning pilot never can be known:
But when the cruel storm doth threat the bark
To drown in deeps of pits infernal dark,
While tossing tears both rudder, mast, and sail,
While mounting, seems the azure skies to scale,
While drives perforce upon some deadly shore,
There is the pilot known, and not before.

    T. HUDSON.

ENVY

The knotty oak and wainscot old,