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"Like superstitious thieves, who think the light "From dead men's marrow guides them best at night 53— "Ye shall have honours-wealth,-yes, Sages, yes"I know, grave fools, your wisdom's nothingness; "Undazzled it can track yon starry sphere, "But a gilt stick, a bauble blinds it here. "How I shall laugh, when trumpeted along, "In lying speech, and still more lying song,
By these learn'd slaves, the meanest of the throng; "Their wits bought up, their wisdom shrunk so small, "A sceptre's puny point can wield it all!
"Ye too, believers of incredible creeds, “Whose faith enshrines the monsters which it breeds ;
Who, bolder even than NEMROD, think to rise,
By nonsense heap'd on nonsense, to the skies; "Ye shall have miracles, ay, sound ones too, "Seen, heard, attested, ev'ry thing-but true. "Your preaching zealots, too inspir'd to seek "One grace of meaning for the things they speak ; "Your martyrs, ready to shed out their blood "For truths too heavenly to be understood; "And your State Priests, sole vendors of the lore "That works salvation ;-as, on Ava's shore, "Where none but priests are privileg'd to trade "In that best marble of which Gods are made ; 54
They shall have mysteries-ay, precious stuff "For knaves to thrive by-mysteries enough; "Dark, tangled doctrines, dark as fraud can weave, "Which simple votaries shall on trust receive, "While craftier feign belief, till they believe. "A Heaven too ye must have, ye lords of dust,—
"A splendid Paradise,-pure souls, ye must
"And wings and glories for all ranks and ages.
"So let him-EBLIS! grant this crowning curse,
"Oh my lost soul!" exclaim'd the shuddering maid, Whose ears had drunk like poison all he said :— MOKANNA started-not abash'd, afraid,—
He knew no more of fear than one who dwells
Beneath the tropics knows of icicles!
In which the legend o'er Hell's Gate is read,
"Ha, my fair Priestess!"-thus, with ready wile, The' impostor turn'd to greet her-" thou, whose smile "Hath inspiration in its rosy beam
Beyond the' Enthusiast's hope or Prophet's dream! "Light of the faith! who twin'st religion's zeal
"So close with love's, men know not which they feel,
"What should I be without thee? without thee
But-why so mournful, child? those eyes, that shone "All life last night-what-is their glory gone?
"Come, come-this morn's fatigue hath made them pale,
They want rekindling-suns themselves would fail, "Did not their comets bring, as I to thee,
"From light's own fount supplies of brilliancy.
Catching the gem's bright colour as they go.
Nightly my Genii come and fill these urns
'Nay, drink-in every drop life's essence burns ; ""Twill make that soul all fire, those eyes all light— 66 Come, come, I want thy loveliest smiles to-night :— "There is a youth-why start?-thou saw'st him then ; "Look'd he not nobly? such the godlike men
"Thou'lt have to woo thee in the bowers above ;—
Though he, I fear, hath thoughts too stern for love, "Too rul'd by that cold enemy of bliss
"The world calls virtue-we must conquer this ;-
"Shall tempt the boy ;--young MIRZALA'S blue eyes,
'My convert's spirit in that soft'ning trance, "From which to heaven is but the next advance "That glowing, yielding fusion of the breast, "On which Religion stamps her image best. "But hear me, Priestess !-though each nymph of these "Hath some peculiar, practis'd power to please, "Some glance or step which, at the mirror tried, "First charms herself, then all the world beside ; "There still wants one, to make the victory sure, "One who in every look joins every lure; "Through whom all beauty's beams concentred pass, "Dazzling and warm, as through love's burning glass; "Whose gentle lips persuade without a word, "Whose words, ev'n when unmeaning, are ador'd, "Like inarticulate breathings from a shrine, "Which our faith takes for granted are divine! "Such is the nymph we want, all warmth and light, "To crown the rich temptations of to-night : "Such the refin'd enchantress that must be
This hero's vanquisher, and thou art she!"
With her hands clasp'd, her lips apart and pale,
Of Kerzrah flowers, came fill'd with pestilence; 55
Of frowns from her, of virtuous frowns, were fled,
At first, though mute she listen'd, like a dream Seem'd all he said: nor could her mind, whose beam As yet was weak, penetrate half his scheme.
But when, at length, he utter'd, "Thou art she!"
All flash'd at once, and shrieking piteously,
"Oh not for worlds!" she cried-"Great God! to whom
"I once knelt innocent, is this my doom?