In vain they met him, helm to helm,
Upon the threshold of that realm

He came in bigot pomp to sway,

And with their corpses block'd his way

In vain for every lance they rais'd,

Thousands around the conqueror blaz'd;
For every arm that lin❜d their shore,
Myriads of slaves were wafted o'er,-
A bloody, bold, and countless crowd,
Before whose swarm as fast they bow'd
As dates beneath the locust-cloud !

There stood but one short league away From old HARMOZIA'S sultry bay

A rocky mountain, o'er the Sea

Of OMAN beetling awfully.

A last and solitary link

Of those stupendous chains that reach From the broad Caspian's reedy brink Down winding to the Green Sea beach.

Around its base the bare rocks stood,

Like naked giants, in the flood,

As if to guard the Gulf across;

While, on its peak, that brav'd the sky,
A ruin'd Temple tower'd, so high

That oft the sleeping albatross'
Struck the wild ruins with her wing,
And from her cloud-rock'd slumbering
Started to find man's dwelling there

In her own silent fields of air!

Beneath, terrific caverns gave

Dark welcome to each stormy wave
That dash'd, like midnight revellers, in;-
And such the strange, mysterious din

At times throughout those caverns roll'd, -
And such the fearful wonders told

Of restless sprites imprison'd there,

That bold were Moslem, who would dare,
At twilight hour, to steer his skiff
Beneath the Gheber's lonely cliff.

On the land side, those towers sublime,
That seem'd above the grasp of Time,
Were sever'd from the haunts of men

By a wide, deep, and wizard glen,

These birds sleep in the air. They are most common about the Cape of Good Hope.

P

So fathomless, so full of gloom,

No eye could pierce the void between ;
It seem'd a place where Gholes might come
With their foul banquets from the tomb,
And in its caverns feed unseen.
Like distant thunder, from below,

The sound of many torrents came;

Too deep for eye or ear to know
If 'twere the sea's imprison'd flow,

Or floods of ever-restless flame,
For each ravine, each rocky spire
Of that vast mountain stood on fire;
And, though for ever past the days,
When God was worshipp'd in the blaze

That from its lofty altar shone,

Though fled the priests, the votaries gone,

Still did the mighty flame burn on ́

Through chance and change, through good and ill,

Like its own God's eternal will,

Deep, constant, bright, unquenchable !

"Welcome, terrific glen!" he said,

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Thy gloom, that Eblis' self might dread,~

"Is Heav'n to him who flies from chains!"

O'er a dark, narrow-bridge-way, known

To him and to his Chiefs alone, B A

They cross'd the chasm and gain'd the towers; "This home," he cried, "at least is ours

"Here we may bleed, unmock'd by hymns
"Of Moslem triumph o'er our head;
"Here we may fall, nor leave our limbs
"To quiver to the Moslem's tread.

"Stretch'd on this rock, while vultures' beaks "Are whetted on our yet warm cheeks,

"Here,-happy that no tyrant's eye
"Gloats on our torments-we may die!"

'Twas night when to those towers they came,

And gloomily the fitful flame,

That from the ruin'd altar broke,

Glar'd on his features, as he spoke:

""Tis o'er

what men could do, we've done

"If IRAN will look tamely on,

"And see her priests, her warriors driven

"Before a sensual bigot's nod,

"A wretch, who takes his lusts to heaven,
"And makes a pander of his God!
"If her proud sons, her high-born souls,
"Men, in whose veins-oh last disgrace!
"The blood of ZAL and RUSTAM3 rolls, -
"If they will court this upstart race,
"And turn from MITHRA's ancient ray,
"To kneel at shrines of yesterday!
"If they will crouch to IRAN's foes,

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Why, let them till the land's despair "Cries out to heav'n, and bondage grows

"Too vile for ev'n the vile to bear!

"Till shame at last, long hidden, burns
"Their inmost core, and conscience turns
"Each coward tear the slave lets fall
"Back on his heart in drops of gall!
"But here, at least, are arms unchain'd,
"And souls that thraldom never stain'd;

"This spot, at least, no foot of slave "Or satrap ever yet profan'd;

"And, though but few-though fast the wave "Of life is ebbing from our veins,

"Enough for vengeance still remains.

3 Ancient heroes of Persia. "Among the Guebres there are some, who boast their descent from Rustam."- Stephen's Persia.