There is an elegancy and wildness of thought which recommends all
their compositions; and our geniuses are as much too cold for the
entertainment of such sentiments, as our climate is for their fruits
and spices. If any of these beauties are to be found in the following
Eclogues, I hope my reader will consider them as an argument of their
being original. I received them at the hands of a merchant, who had
made it his business to enrich himself with the learning, as well as the
silks and carpets of the Persians. The little information I could
gather concerning their author, was, that his name was Abdallah, and
that he was a native of Tauris.

It was in that city that he died of a distemper fatal in those parts,
whilst he was engaged in celebrating the victories of his favourite
monarch, the great Abbas.[10] As to the Eclogues themselves, they give a
very just view of the miseries and inconveniences, as well as the
felicities, that attend one of the finest countries in the East.

The time of writing them was probably in the beginning of Sha Sultan
Hosseyn's reign, the successor of Sefi or Solyman the Second.

Whatever defects, as, I doubt not, there will be many, fall under the
reader's observation, I hope his candour will incline him to make the
following reflection:

That the works of Orientals contain many peculiarities, and that,
through defect of language, few European translators can do them
justice.

ORIENTAL ECLOGUES.

ECLOGUE I.

SELIM; OR, THE SHEPHERD'S MORAL.

SCENE, A valley near Bagdat.
TIME, The morning.

'Ye Persian maids, attend your poet's lays,
And hear how shepherds pass their golden days.
Not all are blest, whom fortune's hand sustains
With wealth in courts, nor all that haunt the plains:
Well may your hearts believe the truths I tell; 5
'Tis virtue makes the bliss, where'er we dwell.'

Thus Selim sung, by sacred Truth inspired;
Nor praise, but such as Truth bestow'd, desired:
Wise in himself, his meaning songs convey'd
Informing morals to the shepherd maid; 10
Or taught the swains that surest bliss to find,
What groves nor streams bestow, a virtuous mind.

When sweet and blushing, like a virgin bride,
The radiant morn resumed her orient pride;
When wanton gales along the valleys play, 15
Breathe on each flower, and bear their sweets away;
By Tigris' wandering