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WHAT various ways in which a thing is told
Some truth abuse, while others fiction hold;
In stories we invention may admit;
But diff’rent ’tis with what historick writ;
Posterity demands that truth should then
Inspire relation, and direct the pen.

ALACIEL’S story’s of another kind,
And I’ve a little altered it, you’ll find;
Faults some may see, and others disbelieve;
‘Tis all the same:–’twill never make me grieve;
Alaciel’s mem’ry, it is very clear,
Can scarcely by it lose; there’s naught to fear.
Two facts important I have kept in view,
In which the author fully I pursue;
The one–no less than eight the belle possessed,
Before a husband’s sight her eyes had blessed;
The other is, the prince she was to wed
Ne’er seemed to heed this trespass on his bed,
But thought, perhaps, the beauty she had got
Would prove to any one a happy lot.

HOWE’ER this fair, amid adventures dire,
More sufferings shared than malice could desire;
Though eight times, doubtless, she exchanged her knight
No proof, that she her spouse was led to slight;
‘Twas gratitude, compassion, or good will;
The dread of worse;–she’d truly had her fill;
Excuses just, to vindicate her fame,
Who, spite of troubles, fanned the monarch’s flame:
Of eight the relict, still a maid received;–
Apparently, the prince her pure believed;
For, though at times we may be duped in this,
Yet, after such a number–strange to miss!
And I submit to those who’ve passed the scene,
If they, to my opinion, do not lean.

THE king of Alexandria, Zarus named,
A daughter had, who all his fondness claimed,
A star divine Alaciel shone around,
The charms of beauty’s queen were in her found;
With soul celestial, gracious, good, and kind,
And all-accomplished, all-complying mind.

THE rumour of her worth spread far and wide,
The king of Garba asked her for his bride,
And Mamolin (the sov’reign of the spot,)
To other princes had a pref’rence got.

THE fair, howe’er, already felt the smart
Of Cupid’s arrow, and had lost her heart;
But ’twas not known: princesses love conceal,
And scarcely dare its whispers fond reveal;
Within their bosoms poignant pain remains,
Though flesh and blood, like lasses of the plains.

THE noble Hispal, one of zarus’ court,
A handsome youth, as histories report,
Alaciel pleased; a mutual flame arose,
Though this they durst not venture to disclose
Or, if expressed, ’twas solely by the eyes:–
Soul-speaking language, nothing can disguise!

AFFIANCED thus, the princess, with a sigh,
Prepared to part, and fully to comply.
The father trusted her to Hispal’s care,
Without the least suspicion of the snare;
They soon embarked and ploughed the briny main;
With anxious hopes in time the port to gain.

WHEN they, from Egypt’s coast had sailed a week;
To gain the wind they saw a pirate seek,
Which having done, he t’wards them bore in haste,
To take the ship in which our fair was placed.

THE battle quickly raged; alike they erred;
The pirates slaughter loved, and blood preferred,
And, long accustomed to the stormy tide,
Were most expert, and on their skill relied.
In numbers, too, superior they were found;
But Hisipal’s valour greatly shone around,
And kept the combat undecided long;
At length Grifonio, wond’rous large and strong;
With twenty sturdy, pirates got on board,
And many soon lay gasping by the sword.
Where’er he trod, grim death and horrour reigned;
At length, the round the noble Hispal gained.
His nervous arm laid many wretches low
Rage marked his eyes, whene’er he dealt a blow: