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0! how shall I woo you how make you mine

Fair Elleen a-Ruin !
Can warm words win you ?--can gold ?_can wine ?

Sweet Elleen a Ruin ?
I would walk the wide world from east to west,
Inspired by love, if I could but rest
One heavenly hour on your beauteous breast,

0, Elleen a-Ruin!


Come with me, come with me, then, darling one !

Come, Elleen a-Ruin !
The moments are precious—0, let us be gone,

My Elleen a-Ruin!
To the uttermost bounds of the world I'll go
With you, my beloved, come weal or woe,
You, you are my Heaven on Earth below,

0, Elleen a-Ruin!


And all my glad kindred shall welcome you,

My Elleen a-Ruin!
With a hundred thousand welcomes true,

Sweet Elleen a.Ruin !
And Love and rich Plenty shall bless our home,
As though 'twere a royallest palace-dome;
We both will be happy till Death shall come,

O, Elleen a-Ruin !

Elegy on the Death of Sultan Suleimaun the Magnificent.

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Like to a stately tree, down-smitten in its pride and prime,

Like to a tower o'erthrown, a tower that stood from elder time,



One of the most distinguished and voluminous of the Ottoman poets. flourished in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

† “ Can he not hear

The loud · Wull-wulla' warn his distant ear."-Byrox.

Lies he, the Light of Ages,

The world-illuming Star,
The King of Earth, the Sage of Sages,

The Wise, the Brave, the True,
Who harnessed victory to his car,

Wull-wullahu, Wull-wullahu!


So fares the queenly ship over the ocean-wave at noon

Her poop of gold, her sails of silver, like to sun and moon,

Bright shine the skies :—from them Pest

Nor Storm can come :-so thinks
The looker-on, when, lo! a tempest !

Loud shrieks burst from the crew,
And down, down, the lost vessel sinks !

Wull-wullahu! Wull-wullahu !


So, in his pomp and power, the Pasha leaves his palace-hall,

Follows his cavalcade ; ride forth his troops and Djanzrees* all-

His glory,—to o'er-dusk it

All human power were vain !
So dream we again,—but, hark! that musquet!

Its fire was all_too-truet
The god lies lifeless on the plain.

Wull-wullahu! Wull-wullahu !


The nightingale is mute; the tulip wastes away for grief

The violet and rose, they both are yellow in the leaf

The summer droops in sorrow;

Her flowers and fruits lie dead ;
Her very self is fain to borrow

From Autumn a faint hue
For sky and earth of blue and red-

Wull-wullahu ! Wull-wullahu !


We who remain behind, we wither all from day to day,

The sight hath left our eyes ; our very beards show crisped and grey:

For Plague, and Thirst, and Famine

Have come down on the land :
Each of us, black-skinned as a Brahmin,

Sits weeping ; scarce a few
Take even the Koran now in hand-

Wull-wullahu ! Wull-wullahu!

* Janissaries.

† The assassination of a Pasha, by a private and ambushed enemy, was, until lately, so common an occurrence in the East, that the poet, as we may suppose, did not think any explanation of the circumstance to which he alludes necessary for his readers.


To God we all belong ; to His decree we all must bow

Nushrévan and Djemsheed, the Kings of Earth, where are they now?

Prayer Allah ever heareth,

While Prayer may yet be heard,
But when the dreary death-hour neareth,

In vain men sigh and sue.
Forth goes the irrevocable Word-

Wull-wullahu ! Wull-wullahu !


Woe to us for the Lost ! the Thunderer of a thousand years-

The Great Soul of the Time,—whose voice in Death all Earth still hears-

Heaven's lightning was less mortal

Than his fierce eye in wrath—
Yet oped he Mercy's palace-portal

Where Mercy's alms were due.
God's lamp illumed his path!

Wull-wullahu! Wull-wullahu !

He, in his manhood's day, whom now we mourn in darkling weeds,

Fought against Gog and Magog,' and against their hell-born creeds ;

He upheld the Eagle and Arrowt

With superhuman arm.
This mean world seemed a sphere too narrow

For him : his grand soul grew
Perpetually more warm-

Wull-wullahu ! Wull-wullahu !

0, God! God! in thy love, give thou to us the Judgment Morn!

That we once more may see the Monarch who hath left us lorn-

God! let the Archangel's clarion

Resound throughout the Dwawn, I
Yet, not to arraign Earth's carcase-carrion,

But that we all anew
May see him, even on that dread Dawn-
Wull-wullahul Wull-wullahu !

J. C. M.

* Viz., against the powers of the idolatrous nations (Persia and Mesopotamia).

† Some of my readers may require to be informed that the Eagle and the Arrow ranked, until within a very recent period, among the chief emblematic devices of the Persians. As, however, I do not wish to over-encumber these translations with notes, I refrain from giving the explanation of this mythos (which originated with the Egyptians, or rather the Chaldeans)—the more especially, as I believe few would take any interest in it.

Doubhaun, viz., the world, the material globe.



Ir patrician blood, if ancestors, distinguished by intellectual and physical accomplishment, could add merit to one who has worked out for himself a high place in Eastern history, we might claim both for the subject of this memoir.

Sir John Napier, of Merchistown, was descended from that son of the Earl of Lennox whose acquisition of the name Napier is recorded in a wellknown chivalric tradition. How much he benefited science by the invention of logarithms-how far he was in advance of the science of that day-we need not now insist.

Francis, the sixth Lord Napier, and sixth in descent from Sir John, married a native of this city. His son, Colonel George Napier, the father of Sir Charles, was one of the most powerful and active men in the British army, and many marvellous feats, proving his agility and strength, are recorded.

Colonel Napier married Lady Sarah Lennox, daughter of the second Duke of Richmond. Through this lady, Sir Charles Napier is nearly related to the Duke of Leinster, who is the grandson of Lady Emilia, the sister of Lady Sarah Lennox. The eldest son of this marriage, Charles James, was born 10th of August, 1782.

The present is not the only occasion upon which we have found it our duty to claini as an Irishman an individual, the “accident" of whose birth has occur. red out of the Green Isle. There are circumstances in connexion with a man's life that stamp his country more unequivocally than this casualty-more especially his residence in childhood and boyhood—the seat of what we might term his instinctive feelings, habits, tastes, and associations, from their early imbibi. tion, then growing and strengthening with his growth and education, until at length they afford the stamp of character, which justifies the attachment of a

* Local habitation and a name."

Fortunately, it rests not with us to establish this point, as, despite of all our faults, and all the vituperation heaped upon this country, Napier, so far from availing himself of the opportunity thus offered for repudiating us, prides himself on being an Irishman.

Colonel Napier, our hero's father, was a man of strong mental powers, of strict or rigid principle--possessed an intuitive knowledge of war, confirmed by an extensive experience, having served in the American campaign in 1777. He was on Lord Moira's staff in the Duke of York's expedition, and was selected to take the command of the 102nd; or Londonderry Regiment, on its being raised.

Charles was born at Whitehall, in London ; and when between two and three years old, his father removed his family to Castletown, in the county of Kildare, where he resided for four years. From thence he removed to Celbridge—the house at present occupied by Mr. Maunsell—where he resided for several

years. This house he fortified, and opened as a place of refuge to the inhabitants of Celbridge during the panic attending the rebellion of '98; and as several doubtful parties claimed protection, he adopted the idea of placing them in the windows to receive the fire of the rebels, at the same time keeping them under cover of the fire of those upon whom he could rely. His precautions, however, deterred the rebels from their meditated attack on that occasion. Colonel Napier held the office of Comptroller of Army Accounts in Ireland, for several years, during Lord Cornwallis's administration, and died in 1804.

Young Napier received his education from this stern old soldier ; and judging from his success, and that of his brothers in their after career, his father was quite as competent to this task in the literary* and general education he imparted

Sir William Napier, the gallant and accomplished historian of the Peninsular War, was his third son; Captain Henry Napier, R.N., Author of the Florentine history, his fourth son.

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