And golden circlets to thy victor-ankle bind.

JOHN L. O'SULLIVAN.



NOORMAHAL THE FAIR.[1]

_("Entre deux rocs d'un noir d'ebene.")_

[XXVII., November, 1828.]


Between two ebon rocks
Behold yon sombre den,
Where brambles bristle like the locks
Of wool between the horns of scapegoat banned by men!

Remote in ruddy fog
Still hear the tiger growl
At the lion and striped dog
That prowl with rusty throats to taunt and roar and howl;

Whilst other monsters fast
The hissing basilisk;
The hippopotamus so vast,
And the boa with waking appetite made brisk!

The orfrey showing tongue,
The fly in stinging mood,