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'Tis he, 'tis he!-the man of blood, The fellest of the Fire-fiend's brood,

HAFED, the demon of the fight,

Whose voice unnerves, whose glances blight,Is her own loved Gheber, mild

And glorious, as when first he smil'd

In her lone tower, and left such beams
Of his pure eye to light her dreams,
That she believ'd her bower had given.
Rest to some wanderer from heaven!

Moments there are- -and this was one-
Snatch'd like a minute's gleam of sun
Amid the black simoom's eclipse,-

Or like those verdant spots that bloom
Around the crater's burning lips,
Sweetening the very edge of doom!
The past-the future-all that fate
Can bring of dark or desperate

Around such hours-but makes them cast

Intenser radiance while they last!

Ev'n he, this youth-though dimm'd and gone

Each star of hope that cheer'd him on—
His glories lost his cause betray'd—
Iran, his dear-lov'd country, made

A land of carcases and slaves,

One dreary waste of chains and graves!—
Himself but lingering, dead at heart,

To see the last long-struggling breath
Of Liberty's great soul depart,

Then lay him down, and share her death,Ev'n he, so sunk in wretchedness,

With doom still darker gathering o'er him,

Yet, in this moment's pure caress,

In the mild eyes that shone before him,

Beaming that blest assurance, worth
All other transports known on earth-

That he was lov'd-well, warmly lov'd-
Oh! in this precious hour he prov'd
How deep, how thorough-felt the glow
Of rapture, kindling out of woe ;—
How exquisite one single drop

Of bliss, thus sparkling to the top

Of misery's cup-how keenly quaff'd, Though death must follow on the draught!

She too, while gazing on those eyes

That sink into her soul so deep,

Forgets all fears, all miseries,

Or feels them like the wretch in sleep,
Whom fancy cheats into a smile,

Who dreams of joy, and sobs the while!
The mighty ruins where they stood,
Upon the mount's high, rocky verge,
Lay open tow'rds the ocean flood,

Where lightly o'er the illumin'd surge
Many a fair bark that, all the day,
Had lurk'd in sheltering creek or bay,
Now bounded on, and gave their sails,
Yet dripping, to the evening gales;
Like eagles, when the storm is done,
Spreading their wet wings in the sun.
The beauteous clouds, though daylight's star
Had sunk behind the hills of Lar,
Were still with lingering glories bright,-

As if, to grace the gorgeous west,

The Spirit of departing Light

That eve had left his sunny vest Behind him, ere he wing'd his flight.

Never was scene so form'd for love!
Beneath them, waves of crystal move
In silent swell-heaven glows above;
And their pure hearts, to transport given,
Swell like the wave, and glow like heaven!
But ah! too soon that dream is past-

Again, again her fear returns ;-
Night, dreadful night, is gathering fast,

More faintly the horizon burns,

And every rosy tint that lay

On the smooth sea hath died away.
Hastily to the darkening skies

A glance she casts-then wildly cries,
"At night, he said—and, look, 'tis near-
Fly, fly-if yet thou lov'st me, fly,-
Soon will his murderous band be here,

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And I shall see thee bleed and die. Hush!—heard'st thou not the tramp of men Sounding from yonder fearful glen? Perhaps ev'n now they climb the wood

Fly, fly-though still the west is bright, He'll come—oh! yes-he wants thy bloodI know him--he'll not wait for night!"

In terrors ev'n to agony


She clings around the wondering Chief;'Alas, poor 'wilder'd maid! to me

Thou ow'st this raving trance of grief.

Lost as I am, nought ever grew

Beneath my shade but perish'd too

My doom is like the Dead Sea air,
And nothing lives that enters there!

Why were our barks together driven
Beneath this morning's furious heaven?
Why, when I saw the prize that chance
Had thrown into my desperate arms,—
When, casting but a single glance

Upon thy pale and prostrate charms,
I vow'd (though watching viewless o'er
Thy safety through that hour's alarms)
To meet th' unmanning sight no more-
Why have I broke that heart-wrung vow?
Why weakly, madly, met thee now ?—
Start not that noise is but the shock

Of torrents through yon valley hurl'd;
Dread nothing here-upon this rock
We stand above the jarring world,
Alike beyond its hope-its dread—
In gloomy safety, like the dead!
Or, could ev'n earth and hell unite
In league to storm this sacred height,
Fear nothing thou-myself, to-night,
And each o'erlooking star that dwells
Near God, will be thy sentinels;
And, ere to-morrow's dawn shall glow,
Back to thy sire-

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The maiden scream'd-" thou 'lt never see
To-morrow's sun-death, death will be
The night-cry through each reeking tower,
Unless we fly-aye, fly this hour!
Thou art betray'd-some wretch who knew
That dreadful glen's mysterious clew--
Nay, doubt not-by yon stars, 'tis true


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