Heap'd by his own, his comrades' hands, Of every wood of odorous breath, There, by the Fire-God's shrine it stands, Ready to fold in radiant death
The few still left of those who swore
To perish there, when hope was o'er - The few, to whom that couch of flame, Which rescues them from bonds and shame, Is sweet and welcome as the bed For their own infant Prophet spread, When pitying Heaven to roses turn'd
The death-flames that beneath him burn'd! 290
With watchfulness the maid attends His rapid glance, where'er it bends — Why shoot his eyes such awful beams? What plans he now? what thinks or dreams? Alas! why stands he musing here, When every moment teems with fear? "HAFED, my own beloved Lord,"
She kneeling cries—"first, last ador'd! If in that soul thou'st ever felt
Half what thy lips impassion'd swore, Here, on my knees that never knelt
To any but their God before,
I pray thee, as thou lov'st me, fly- Now, now -ere yet their blades are nigh. Oh haste the bark that brought me hither Can waft us o'er yon darkening sea Eastwest
- alas, I care not whither,
So thou art safe, and I with thee! Go where we will, this hand in thine, Those eyes before me smiling thus,
Through good and ill, through storm and shine, The world's a world of love for us!
On some calm, blessed shore we'll dwell, Where 'tis no crime to love too well; - Where thus to worship tenderly
An erring child of light like thee
Where we may weep our faults away, Together kneeling, night and day, Thou, for my sake, at ALLA's shrine, And I - at any God's for thine!"
Wildly these passionate words she spokeThen hung her head, and wept for shame; Sobbing as if a heart-string broke
With every deep-heav'd sob that came. While he, young, warm oh! wonder not
If, for a moment, pride and fame,
His oath his cause - that shrine of flame,
And IRAN's self are all forgot
For her whom at his feet he sees
Kneeling in speechless agonies.
No, blame him not, if Hope awhile
Dawn'd in his soul, and threw her smile O'er hours to come - o'er days and nights, Wing'd with those precious, pure delights Which she, who bends all beauteous there, Was born to kindle and to share.
A tear or two, which, as he bow'd
To raise the suppliant, trembling stole, First warn'd him of this dangerous cloud Of softness passing o'er his soul. Starting, he brush'd the drops away, Unworthy o'er that cheek to stray ;- Like one who, on the morn of fight, Shakes from his sword the dews of night, That had but dimm'd, not stain'd its light.
Yet, though subdued the unnerving thrill, Its warmth, its weakness linger'd still, So touching in each look and tone That the fond, fearing, hoping maid Half counted on the flight she pray'd, Half thought the hero's soul was grown. As soft, as yielding as her own,
And smil'd and bless'd him, while he said, "Yes if there be some happier sphere, Where fadeless truth like ours is dear,
If there be any land of rest
For those who love and ne'er forget, Oh! comfort thee. - for safe and blest
We'll meet in that calm region yet!"
Scarce had she time to ask her heart If good or ill these words impart, When the rous'd youth impatient flew To the tower-wall, where, high in view, A ponderous sea-horn 201 hung, and blew A signal, deep and dread as those The storm-fiend at his rising blows. Full well his Chieftains, sworn and true Through life and death, that signal knew; For 'twas the appointed warning-blast, The alarm, to tell when hope was past, And the tremendous death-die cast! And there, upon the mouldering tower, Hath hung this sea-horn many an hour, Ready to sound o'er land and sea That dirge-note of the brave and free. They came - his Chieftains at the call Came slowly round, and with them all Alas, how few! - the worn remains Of those who late o'er KERMAN's plains
Went gayly prancing to the clash Of Moorish zel and tymbalon, Catching new hope from every flash Of their long lances in the sun, And, as their coursers charg'd the wind, And the white ox-tails stream'd behind,292 Looking as if the steeds they rode
Were wing'd, and every Chief a God! How fallen, how alter'd now! how wan Each scarr'd and faded visage shone, As round the burning shrine they came!- How deadly was the glare it cast, As mute they paus'd before the flame
To light their torches as they pass'd! 'Twas silence all the youth had plann'd The duties of his soldier-band;
And each determin'd brow declares
His faithful Chieftains well know theirs.
But minutes speed-night gems the skies- And oh, how soon, ye blessed eyes, That look from heaven, ye may behold Sights that will turn your star-fires cold! Breathless with awe, impatience, hope, The maiden sees the veteran group Her litter silently prepare,
And lay it at her trembling feet;
And now the youth, with gentle care, Hath placed her in the shelter'd seat,
And press'd her hand that lingering press Of hands, that for the last time sever; Of hearts, whose pulse of happiness, When that hold breaks, is dead forever. And yet to her this sad caress
Gives hope so fondly hope can err!
'Twas joy, she thought, joy's mute excess Their happy flight's dear harbinger; 'Twas warmth assurance - tenderness
'Twas anything but leaving her.
"Haste, haste!" she cried, "the clouds grow dark,
But still, ere night, we'll reach the bark; And by to-morrow's dawn oh bliss! With thee upon the sun-bright deep,
Far off, I'll but remember this,
As some dark vanish'd dream of sleep; And thou -" but ah!-he answers not
and does she go alone?
She now has reach'd that dismal spot,
Where, some hours since, his voice's tone
Had come to soothe her fears and ills, Sweet as the angel ISRAFIL'S, 293 When every leaf on Eden's tree Is trembling to his minstrelsy- Yet now-oh, now, he is not nigh. HAFED! my HAFED! - if it be Thy will, thy doom this night to die, Let me but stay to die with thee, And I will bless thy loved name, Till the last life-breath leave this frame. Oh! let our lips, our cheeks be laid But near each other while they fade; Let us but mix our parting breaths, And I can die ten thousand deaths! You too, who hurry me away
So cruelly, one moment stay.
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