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“ Ere Peace can visit them, or Truth let in “ Her wakening day-light on a world of sin ! “ But then, celestial warriors, then, when all “ Earth's shrines and thrones before our banner fall; “ When the glad Slave shall at these feet lay down “ His broken chain, the tyrant Lord his crown, 66 The Priest his book, the Conqueror his wreath, 66 And from the lips of Truth one mighty breath 6 Shall, like a whirlwind, scatter in its breeze 66 That whole dark pile of human mockeries; “ Then shall the reign of Mind commence on earth, 66 And starting fresh, as from a second birth, 66 Man, in the sunshine of the world's new spring, “ Shall walk transparent, like some holy thing! “ Then, too, your Prophet from his angel brow 66 Shall cast the Veil, that hides its splendours now, 6 And gladden'd Earth shall, through her 'wide expanse, 66 Bask in the glories of this countenance !
« For thee, young warrior, welcome! - thou hast yet 66 Some tasks to learn, some frailties to forget, 66 Ere the white war-plume o'er thy brow can wave; — “ But, once my own, mine all till in the grave.!”
The Pomp is at an end, — the crowds are gone ) Each ear and heart still haunted by the tone Of that deep voice, which thrill'd like Alla's own! The Young all dazzled by the plumes and lances, The glittering throne, and Haram's half-caught glances; The Old deep pondering on the promis'd reign Of peace and truth; and all the female train Ready to risk their eyes, could they but gaze A moment on that brow's miraculous blaze!
But there was one, among the chosen maids
Ah Zekica! there was a time, when bliss Shone o'er thy heart from every look of his; When but to see him, hear him, breathe the air In which he dwelt, was thy soul's fondest prayer !
When round him hung such a perpetual spell,
Once happy pair ! — in proud Bokhara's groves, . Who had not heard of their first youthful loves ? Born by that ancient flood', which from its spring a In the Dark Mountains swiftly wandering, Enrich'd by every pilgrim brook that shines With relics from Bucharia’s ruby mines, And, lending to the Caspian half its strength, In the cold Lake of Eagles sịnks at length; – There, on the banks of that bright river born, The flowers, that hung above its wave at morn, Bless'd not the waters, as they murmur'd by, With holier scent and lustre, than the sigh And virgin glance of first affection cast Upon their youth's smooth current, as it pass’d! . But war disturb'd this vision - far away From her fond eyes, summond to join th' array Of Persia's warriors on the hills of THRACE, The youth exchang'd his sylvan dwelling-place
1 The Amoo, which rises in the Belur Tag, or Dark Mountains, and running nearly from east to west, splits into two branches, one of which falls into the Caspian sea, and the other into Aral Nahr, or the Lake of Eagles.
For the rude tent and war-field's deathful clash;
Month after month, in widowhood of soul Drooping, the maiden saw two summers roll Their suns away — but, ah ! how cold and dim Ev'n summer suns, when not beheld with him!. From time to time ill-omen'd rumours came, (Like spirit-tongues, muttering the sick-man's name, Just ere he dies, —) at length, those sounds of dread Fell withering on her soul, “ Azim is dead !" Oh grief, beyond all other griefs, when fate . First leaves the young heart lone and desolate In the wide world, without that only tie For which it loy'd to live or feard to die;Lorn as the hung-up lute, that ne'er hath spoken Since the sad day its master-chord was broken !
Fond maid, the sorrow of her soul was such, Ev'n reason sunk blighted beneath its touch;