The Circassian Slave by Maturin Murray Ballou (rosie project TXT) 📕

its bevy of fair creatures from the north, and the Sultan's agents are ever on the alert for the most beautiful to fill the monarch's harem. The Brother of the Sun chooses his favorites from out a score of lovely Georgians and Circassians, but he does not forget her who had so entranced his heart, so enslaved his affections, and then so mysteriously escaped from his gilded cage.

But as time passes on the scene changes--rosy-cheeked children cling about Aphiz's knees, and a dear, black-eyed representative of her mother clasps her tiny arms about his neck. And so, too, are Selim and Zillah blessed, and their children play and laugh together, causing an ever constant flow of delight to the parents' hearts.

There ever watches over them one sober, quiet eye--one whom the children love dearly, for he joins them in all their games and sports, and astonishes and delights them by his wonderful feats of agility. It is the half-witted creature, who had followed and loved Komel so well. As years have passed over him, the sun-light of reason gradually crept into his brain, and the poor boy saw a new world before him. His only care, his only thought, his constant delight seeming to be these lovely children.

The events of the past are often recurred to by Komel and her husband, around the quiet hearthstone that forms the united home of Selim, Zillah, and themselves, and the sun sets in the west, shedding its parting rays over no happier circle than theirs. Nor does Komel now regret that she was once the Sultan's slave.

As now he lays down his pen, let the author hope that he has won the kind consideration and remembrance of those who have read his story of THE CIRCASSIAN SLAVE.


THE END.

[FROM GLEASON'S PICTORIAL DRAWING ROOM COMPANION.]

A SCRAP OF ROMAN HISTORY.

BY AN UNKNOWN POET.

In the olden days of Roman
Grandeur, glory, wealth, and pride;
Once there came a might legion
From a vast and far-off region
And this Roman power defied.
Naught could stay their devastations
In the lands through which they came;
All the weeping supplications
Of the terror-stricken nations
Could not quench these Vandals' flame.
Ah! most cruel were the invaders,
Cruel their chastizing rods!
For their hearts were stone-like hardened,
These remorseless and unpardoned
Foes of men and all the gods.
And at last they came with boastings
To the gods' and learning's home;
Came with boasting, loud and merry,
Came, at last, unto the very
Walls of proud, imperial Rome.
Ah! why did they not, in mercy,
Spare the "Mistress of the World!"
Or, why did they not, when power
Sat on Roman wall and tower,
Come, and bid their darts be hurled.
For the Romans' strength was broken.
Gone, like light from darkness, now;
Now, when most that strength was need,
Strength was not;--there
Weakness worse than Venla's vow.
Bearing all the outward semblance
Of a firm and mighty hold,
Rome was inwardly as feeble
As a cemeteried people
Changed into corruption's mould.
Ease, corruption, strife, dissension,
Gaiety, licentious mirth,
Luxury;--O, bane of mortals!
All had sapped the very portals
Of this mightiest queen of earth.
Therefore, when these hordes of robbers
Swarmed around the Roman's way,
Scarcely shadow of resistance
Met them near, or in the distance,
And they found an easy prey.
Vandals, Alans, Allemanni,
Longobardi, Avars, Moors,
Goths, Suevi, Huns, Bulgarians,
Overwhelming, rude barbarians
Conquered Rome with deafening roars.
Desecrated, fired and plundered,
Worse than vessel tempest-tost.
Rome was by her dissipations
Blotted from the list of nations;
Rome was lost!--forever lost!

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Publication Date: 07-13-2010

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