[Footnote 25: PP. 165. _The murmur that springs._
I met with this idea in an old English tale, which I am now unable to
obtain, and quote from memory:—“The verie essence and, as it were,
springe-heade and origine of all musiche is the verie pleasaunte sounde
which the trees of the forest do make when they growe.”]
[Footnote 26: P. 165. _Have slept with the bee._
The wild bee will not sleep in the shade if there be moonlight.
The rhyme in this verse, as in one about sixty lines before, has an
appearance of affectation. It is, however, imitated from Sir W. Scott,
or rather from Claud Halcro—in whose mouth I admired its effect:
O! were there an island,
Tho’ ever so wild,
Where woman might smile, and
No man be beguiled, &c.]
[Footnote 27: P. 168. _Apart from Heaven’s Eternity—and yet how far
from Hell!_
With the Arabians there is a medium between Heaven and Hell, where men
suffer no punishment, but yet do not attain that tranquil and even
happiness which they suppose to be characteristic of heavenly enjoyment.
Un no rompido sueno—
Un dia puro—allegre—libre
Quiera—
Libre de amor—de zelo—
De odio—de esperanza—de rezelo.—_Luis Ponce de Leon._
Sorrow is not excluded from “Al Aaraaf,” but it is that sorrow which
the living love to cherish for the dead, and which, in some minds,
resembles the delirium of opium. The passionate excitement of Love and
the buoyancy of spirit attendant upon intoxication are its less holy
pleasures—the price of which, to those souls who make choice of “Al
Aaraaf” as their residence after life, is final death and annihilation.]
[Footnote 28: P. 168. _Unguided Love hath fallen—’mid “tears of perfect
moan.”_
There be tears of perfect moan
Wept for thee in Helicon.—_Milton._]
[Footnote 29: P. 169. _Was a proud temple called the Parthenon._