solitary tent of
his protector: But the home group, in which his infancy was spent, is
pleasingly delineated; and there is something irresistibly interesting
in the innocent love, and misfortunes, and fate of his Oneiza. The
catastrophe of her story is given, it appears to us, with great spirit
and effect, though the beauties are of that questionable kind, that
trespass on the border of impropriety, and partake more of the character
of dramatic, than of narrative poetry. After delivering her from the
polluted paradise of Aloadin, he prevails on her to marry him before his
mission is accomplished. She consents with great reluctance; and the
marriage feast, with its processions, songs, and ceremonies, is
described in some joyous stanzas. The book ends with these verses--

And now the marriage feast is spread,
And from the finished banquet now
The wedding guests are gone.
* * * * *
Who comes from the bridal chamber?
It is Azrael, the Angel of Death.

The next book opens with Thalaba lying distracted upon her grave, in the
neighbourhood of which he had wandered, till "the sun, and the wind,
and the rain, had rusted his raven locks"; and there he is found by the
father of his bride, and visited by her ghost, and soothed and
encouraged to proceed upon his holy enterprise. He sets out on his
lonely way, and is entertained the first night by a venerable dervise:
As they are sitting at meal, a _bridal procession_ passes by, with
dance, and song, and merriment. The old dervise blessed them as they
passed; but Thalaba looked on, "and breathed a low deep groan, and hid
his face." These incidents are skilfully imagined, and are narrated in a
very impressive manner.

Though the _witchery_ scenes are in general but poorly executed, and
possess little novelty to those who have read the Arabian Nights
Entertainments, there is, occasionally, some fine description, and
striking combination. We do not remember any poem, indeed, that
presents, throughout, a greater number of lively images, or could afford
so many subjects for the pencil.

* * * * *

All the productions of this author, it appears to us, bear very
distinctly the impression of an amiable mind, a cultivated fancy, and a
perverted taste. His genius seems naturally to delight in the
representation of domestic virtues and pleasures, and the brilliant
delineation of external nature. In both these d