dullah before we plunged gaily into the foam and spray with which each
moment the sea drenched the margin of the island. How oft, as nude I
lay stretched on the warm sandy shore, the great sun descending towards
the continent, have I watched the great ships idly rocking on that sea
which in its deep dissolving bosom of blue depths reflected as a mirror
the spotless azure of the sky! Happy days! Memory recalls so much that
a thousand years would never obliterate. My dear father's happy
household gathered under the shade of the towering mangoes, whose rich
fruit, golden, and purple, and brown, hung so temptingly over my head;
the evening zephyr wind gently brushing by the light leaves as it
rustled through from one tree to another with its welcome whispers,
bending, as it flew, the tops of the kingly cocoa and the fragrant
cinnamon, wafting the rich green bough of the orange, whose precious
fruit was as a balm to my soul. Now could I but feel one in my fevered
hand! What ample wealth does not my mind bring before my sickened eyes!
The amber-coloured stalk of the sugar-cane and its luscious juice; dark
green leaves of orange and mangoe; great cocoa-nuts, with their
nutritious milk; the brilliant pomegranate, with its sweet soothing
odour and thirst-assuaging pippins; the soft, rich guava, with its
health-giving meat; the lime, with its yellow, golden fruit, at the mere
sight of which fever and thirst are forgotten; and melons, whose deep
green skins cover such crisp, sweet treasures. Ah! there is no place on
earth to me like the beautiful island of Zanzibar. It is blessed by the
beneficent God with Eden's wealth. Streams laugh with gladness and
murmur with joy. Fresh, healthy winds blow over it, laden with the
fragrance of earth's dearest and best treasures. God has blessed it
with abundance, and has caused its warm bosom to heave with triumph.
Lo! its gardens pass by me one after another; happy homes stand in their
midst; the pride of my race sit happy under the shade of their orange
trees, surrounded by their dependents, whose faces seem kindled with the
quiet rapture which fills them. Trees and flowers, houses and gardens,
men and women, hills and valleys, the sea and streams,--all of
Zanzibar,--come nearer to the unhappy and forsaken son of great Amer bin
Osman.

"Come nearer, nearer still, to your kinsman Selim, Let me embrace ye
before my destiny is accomplished!

"No! no! Ah, ye are unkind! Gaze in pi