ܪ a diately after the Princess, and considered himself notsing refreshed his faculties with a dose of that delithe least important personage of the pageant. cious opium, which is distilled from the black poppy FADLADEEN was a judge of every thing, from the of the Thebais, gave orders for the minstrel to be pencilling of a Circassian's eye-lids to the deepest forthwith introduced into the presence. questions of science and literature; from the mixture The Princess, who had once in her life seen a poet of a conserve of rose-leaves to the composition of an from behind the screens of gauze in her father's hall, epic poem; and such influence had his opinion upon and had conceived from that specimen no very fathe various tastes of the day, that all the cooks and vourable ideas of the Cast, expected but little in this poets of Delhi stood in awe of him. His political new exhibition to interest her ;-she felt inclined howconduct and opinions were founded upon that line of ever to alter her opinion on the very first appearance Sadi, “Should the Prince at noon-day say, it is night, of FERAMORZ. He was a youth about LALLA declare that you behold the moon and stars.” And Rookh's own age, and graceful as that idol of wohis zeal for religion, of which Aurungzebe was a mu- men, Crishna,'—such as he appears to their young nificent protector, was about as disinterested as that imaginations, heroic, beautiful, breathing music from of the goldsmith who fell in love with the diamond his very eyes, and exalting the religion of his wor. eyes of the idol of Jaghernaut. shippers into love. His dress was simple, yet not During the first days of their journey, Lalla without some marks of costliness; and the Ladies of Rooks, who had passed all her life within the the Princess were not long in discovering that the shadow of the Royal Gardens of Delhi, found enough cloth, which encircled his high Tartarian cap, was in the beauty of the scenery through which they of the most delicate kind that the shawl-goats of passed to interest her mind and delight her imagina-Tibet supply. Here and there, too, over his vest, tion; and, when at evening, or in the heat of the which was confined by a flowered girdle of Kashan, day, they turned off from the high road to those re- hung strings of fine pearl, disposed with an air of tired and romantic places which had been selected studied negligence ;-nor did the exquisite embroifor her encampments, sometimes on the banks of a dery of his sandals escape the observation of these small rivulet, as clear as the waters of the Lake of fair critics; who, however they might give way to Pearl; sometimes under the sacred shade of a Ban- FADLADEEN upon the unimportant topics of religion yan tree, from which the view opened upon a glade and government, had the spirits of martyrs in every covered with antelopes; and often in those hidden, thing relating to such momentous matters as jewels embowered spots, described by one from the Isles and embroidery. of the West, as “ places of melancholy, delight, and For the purpose of relieving the pauses of recitasafety, where all the company around was wild pea- tion by music, the young Cashmerian held in his hand cocks and turtle doves;"—she felt a charm in these a kitar ;-such as, in old times, the Arab maids of the scenes, so lovely and so new to her, which, for a West used to listen to by moonlight in the gardens time, made her indifferent to every other amusement of the Alhambra—and having premised, with much But LaLLA Rookh was young, and the young love humility, that the story he was about to relate was variety; nor could the conversation of her ladies and founded on the adventures of that Veiled Prophet of the Great Chamberlain, FADLADEEN, (the only per- Khorassan, who, in the year of the Hegira 163, sons, of course, admitted to her pavilion,) sufficiently created such alarm throughout the Eastern Empire, enliven those many vacant hours, which were devoted made an obeisance to the Princess, and thus began :neither to the pillow nor the palankeen. There was a little Persian slave who sung sweetly to the Vina, THE VEILED PROPHET OF and who now and then lulled the Princess to sleep KHORASSAN.? with the ancient ditties of her country, about the loves of Wamak and Ezra, the fair haired Zal and his mis- In that delightful Province of the Sun, tress Rodahver; not forgetting the combat of Rustam The first of Persian lands he shines upon, with the terrible White Demon. At other times she Where, all the loveliest children of his beam, was amused by those graceful dancing girls of Delhi, Flowrets and fruits blush over every stream, who had been permitted by the Bramins of the Great And, fairest of all streams, the Murga roves, Pagoda to attend her, much to the horror of the good Among MeroU's) bright palaces and groves ;Mussulman FADLADEEN, who could see nothing There, on that throne, to which the blind belief graceful or agreeable in idolaters, and to whom the Of millions rais'd him, sat the Prophet-Chief, very tinkling of their golden anklets was an abomi- The Great Mokanna. O'er his features hung nation. The Veil, the Silver Veil, which he had flung But these and many other diversions were repeated In mercy there, to hide from mortal sight till they lost all their charm, and the nights and noon- His dazzling brow, till man could bear its light. days were beginning to move heavily, when at length, For, far less luminous, his votaries said it was recollected that, among the attendants sent by Were ev'n the gleams, miraculously shed the bridegroom was a young poet of Cashmere, much O'er Moussa’s* cheek, when down the mount he trod, celebrated throughout the Valley for his manner of All glowing from the presence of his God! reciting the Stories of the East, on whom his Royal On either side, with ready hearts and hands, Master had conferred the privilege of being admitted His chosen guard of bold Believers stands ; to the pavilion of the Princess, that he might help to beguile the tediousness of the journey by some of his 1 The Indian Apollo. most agreeable recitals. At the mention of a poet vince, or region of the sun. 2 Khorassan signifies, in the old Persian language, Pro Sir W. Jones. FADLADEEN elevated his critical eye-brows, and, have 3 One of the Royal cities of Khorassan. A Moses Young fire-eyed disputants, who deem their swords, Or bows of Buffalo horn, and shining quivers Between the porphyry pillars, that uphold But why this pageant now? this arm'd array? What triumph crowds the rich Divan to-day With turban'd heads, of every hue and race, Bowing before that veil'd and awful face, Like tulip-beds, of different shape and dyes, Bending beneath th' invisible West-wind's sighs! What new-made mystery now, for Faith to sign, And blood to seal, as genuine and divine,— What dazzling mimicry of God's own power Hath the bold Prophet plann'd to grace this hour? Not such the pageant now, though not less proud, Yon warrior youth, advancing from the crowd, With silver bow, with belt of broider'd crape, And fur-bound bonnet of Bucharian shape, So fiercely beautiful in form and eye, Like war's wild planet in a summer's sky;— 1 Black was the colour adopted by the Caliphs of the House of Abbas, in their garments, turbans, and standards. 2 Pichula, used anciently for arrows by the Persians. 3 The burning fountains of Brahma near Chittogong, esteemed as holy. Turner. 4 China. That youth to-day,-a proselyte, worth hordes The creed and standard of the heav'n-sent Chief. Though few his years, the West already knows False views, like that horizon's fair deceit, Low as young Azıм knelt, that motley crowd Thy soul inhabits now, I've track'd its flame "Nor think 'tis only the gross Spirits, warm'd With duskier fire and for earth's medium form'd, 1 In the war of the Caliph Mohadi against the Emprese Irene: for an account of which, see Gibbon, vol. x. 2 The transmigration of souls was one of his doctrines. see D' Herbelot. a That run this course ;-Beings, the most divine, One, to whose soul the pageant of to-day Has been like death ;-you saw her pale dismay, Such was the Essence that in Adam dwelt, Ye wondering sisterhood, and heard the burst She saw that youth, too well, too dearly known, In Moussa's frame ;-and, thence descending, flow'd Silently kneeling at the Prophet's throne. Through many a prophet's breast;-in Issa? shone, Ah ZELICA! there was a time, when bliss And in MOHAMMED burn'd; till, hastening on, Shone o'er thy heart from every look of his; (As a bright river that, from fall to fall When but to see him, hear him, breathe the air In many a maze descending, bright through all, In which he dwelt, was thy soul's fondest prayer! Finds some fair region where, each labyrinth past, When round him hung such a perpetual spell, In one full lake of light it rests at last !) Whate'er he did, none ever did so well. That Holy Spirit, settling calm and free Too happy days ! when, if he touch'd a flower From lapse or shadow, centres all in me!" Or gem of thine, 'twas sacred from that hour; Again, throughout th' assembly at these words, When thou didst study him, till every tone Thousands of voices rung; the warrior's swords And gesture and dear look became thy own, Were pointed up to heav'n; a sudden wind Thy voice like his, the changes of his face In th' open banners play'd, and from behind In thine reflected with still lovelier grace, Those Persian hangings, that but ill could screen Like echo, sending back sweet music, fraught The Haram's loveliness, white hands were seen With twice th' ærial sweetness it had brought ! Waving embroider'd scarves, whose motion gave Yet now he comes-brighter than even he A perfume forth ;-like those the Houris wave E'er beam'd before,—but ah! not bright for thee; When beckoning to their bowers the' Immortal Brave. No-dread, unlook'd for, like a visitant “But these,” pursued the Chief,“ are truths sublime, From th' other world, he comes as if to haunt That claim a holier mood and calmer time Thy guilty soul with dreams of lost delight, Than earth allows us now ;--this sword must first Long lost to all but memory's aching sight: The darkling prison-house of mankind burst, Sad dreams! as when the Spirit of our Youth Ere Peace can visit them, or Truth let in Returns in sleep, sparkling with all the truth And innocence once ours, and leads us back, In mournful mockery, o'er the shining track Of our young life, and points out every ray When the glad slave shall at these feet lay down Of hope and peace we've lost upon the way! His broken chain, the tyrant Lord his crown, Once happy pair !-in proud Bokhara's groves, The priest his book, the conqueror his wreath, Who had not heard of their first youthful loves ? And from the lips of Truth one mighty breath Born by that ancient flood,' which from its spring Shall, like a whirlwind, scatter in its breeze In the Dark Mountains swiftly wandering, That whole dark pile of human mockeries ;- Enrich'd by every pilgrim brook that shines Then shall the reign of Mind commence on earth, With relics from BUCHARIA's ruby mines, And starting fresh, as from a second birth, And, lending to the Caspian half its strength, Man, in the sunshine of the world's new spring, In the cold Lake of Eagles sinks at length ;Shall walk transparent, like some holy thing ! There, on the banks of that bright river born, Then, too, your Prophet from his angel brow The flowers, that hung above its wave at morn, Shall cast the Veil that hides its splendours now, Bless'd not the waters, as they murmur'd by, And gladden’d Earth shall, through her wide expanse, With holier scent and lustre, than the sigh Bask in the glories of this countenance ! And virgin glance of first affection cast For thee, young warrior, welcome!-thou hast yet Upon their youth's smooth current, as it pass'd! Some task to learn, some frailties to forget, But war disturb'd this vision-far away Ere the white war-plume o'er thy brow can wave ;- From her fond eyes, summon'd to join th' array But, once my own, mine all till in the grave !" Of Persia's warriors on the hills of THRACE, The pomp is at an end,—the crowds are gone The youth exchang'd his sylvan dwelling-place Each ear and heart still haunted by the tone For the rude tent and war-field's deathful clash; Of that deep voice, which thrill'd like Alla's own! His Zelica's sweet glances for the flash The young all dazzled by the plumes and lances, Of Grecian wild-fire,—and love's gentle chains The glittering throne,and Haram's half-caught glances; For bleeding bondage on BYZANTIUM's plains. The old deep pondering on the promis'd reign Month after month, in widowhood of soul Of peace and truth; and all the female train Drooping, the maiden saw two summers roll Ready to risk their eyes, could they but gaze Their suns away—but, ah! how cold and dim A moment on that brow's miraculous blaze! E'en summer suns, when not beheld with him! But there was one among the chosen maids From time to time ill-omen'd rumours came, Who blush'd behind the gallery's silken shades,- (Like spirit tongues, muttering the sick man's name, a 1" And when we said unto the Angels, Worship Adam, 1 The Amoo, which rises in the Belur Tag, or Dark they all worshipped him except Eblis, (Lucifer,) who re- Mountains, and running nearly from east to west, splits into fused." The Koran, chap. ii. two branches, one of which falls into the Caspian sea, and 2 Jesus. the other into Aral Nahr, or the Lake of Eaglus. Just ere he dies,)—at length those sounds of dread Her soul's delirium, in whose active frame, More subtle chains than hell itself e'er twin'd. For which it lov'd to live or fear'd to die ; No art was spar'd, no witchery ;-all the skill Lorn as the hung-up lute, that ne'er hath spoken His demons taught him was employ'd to fill Since the sad day its master-chord was broken! Her mind with gloom and extacy by turns Fond maid, the sorrow of her soul was such, That gloom, through which Frenzy but fiercer burns ; Ev'n reason blighted sunk beneath its touch; That extacy, which from the depth of sadness And though, ere long, her sanguine spirit rose Glares like the maniac's moon,whose light is madness! Above the first dead pressure of its woes, 'Twas from a brilliant banquet, where the sound Though health and bloom return'd, the delicate chain of poesy and music breath'd around, Of thought, once tangled, never clear'd again. Together picturing to her mind and ear Warm, lively, soft as in youth's happiest day, The glories of that heav'n, her destin'd sphere, The mind was still all there, but turn'd astray ;- Where all was pure, where every stain that lay A wandering bark, upon whose pathway shone Upon the spirit's light should pass away, All stars of hear'n, except the guiding one! And, realizing more than youthful love Again she smil'd, nay, much and brightly smil'd, E'er wish'd or dream'd, she should for ever rove But 'twas a lustre, strange, unreal, wild ; Through fields of fragrance by her Azim's side, And when she sung to her lute's touching strain, His own bless'd, purified, eternal bride!'Twas like the notes, half extacy, half pain, 'Twas from a scene, a witching trance like this, The bulbul' utters, e'er her soul depart, He hurried her away, yet breathing bliss, When, vanquish'd by some minstrel's powerful art, To the dim charnel-house ;-through all its steams She dies upon the lute whose sweetness broke her of damp and death, led only by those gleams heart! Which foul Corruption lights, as with design Such was the mood in which that mission found To show the gay and proud she too can shine! Young Zelica,—that mission, which around And, passing on through upright ranks of dead, The Eastern world, in every region blest Which to the maiden, doubly craz'd by dread, With woman's smile, sought out its loveliest, Seem'd,through the bluish death-light round them cast, To grace that galaxy of lips and eyes, To move their lips in mutterings as she pass'dWhich the Veild Prophet destin'd for the skies ! There, in that awful place, when each had quaff'd And such quick welcome as a spark receives And pledg'd in silence such a fearful draught, Dropp'd on a bed of autumn's wither'd leaves, Such-oh! the look and taste of that red bowl Dıd every tale of these enthusiasts find Will haunt her till she dies—he bound her soul In the wild maiden's sorrow-blighted mind. By a dark oath, in hell's own language fram'd, All fire at once the madd’ning zeal she caught ;- Never, while earth his mystic presence claim'd, Elect of Paradise! blest, rapturous thought; While the blue arch of day hung o'er them both, Predestin'd bride, in heaven's eternal dome, Never, by that all-imprecating oath, She swore, and the wide charnel echoed, “Never, From that dread hour, entirely, wildly given To him and—she believ'd, lost maid to Heaven; Safe 'mid the ruins of her intellect! How proud she stood, when in full Haram nam'd Alas, poor ZELICA! it needed all The Priestess of the Faith !-how flash'd her eyes The fantasy, which held thy mind in thrall, With light, alas ! that was not of the skies, To see in that gay Haram's glowing maids When round, in trances only less than hers, A sainted colony for Eden's shades; She saw the Haram kneel, her prostrate worshippers Or dream that he,-of whose unholy flame Well might MOKANNA think that form alone Thou wert too soon the victim,-shining came Had spells enough to make the world his own :From Paradise, to people its pure sphere Light, lovely limbs, to which the spirit's play With souls like thine, which he hath ruin'd here! Gave motion, airy as the dancing spray, No—had not Reason's light totally set, When from its stem the small bird wings away! And left thee dark, thou had'st an amulet Lips in whose rosy labyrinth, when she smil'd, The soul was lost; and blushes, swift and wild Across th' uncalm, but beauteous firmament. That purity, whose fading is love's death! And then her look-oh! where's the heart so wisc, But lost, inflam'd,-a restless zeal took place Could unbewilder'd meet those matchless eyes? Of the mild virgin's still and feminine grace; Quick, restless, strange, but exquisite withal, First of the Prophet's favourites, proudly first Like those of angels, just before their fall; In zeal and charms,—too well th' Impostor nurs'd Now shadow'd with the shames of earth-now crost 1 The Nightingale. | By glimpses of the heaven her heart had lost; a never !" In every glance there broke without control, Yet zeal, ambition, her tremendous vow, The thought, still haunting her, of that bright brow Where sensibility still wildly play'd, Whose blaze, as yet from mortal eye conceal'd To her alone ;-and then the hope most dear, Most wild of all, that her transgression here Was but a passage through earth's grosser fire, From which the spirit would at last aspire, Ev'n purer than before, -as perfumes rise Through flame and smoke, most welcome to the skiesThe vision of that Youth, whom she had lov'd, And wept as dead, before her breath'd and mov'd;. Should circle her in heav'n, no darkening trace And that when Azim's fond, divine embrace When-bright, she thought, as if from Eden's track Would on that bosom he once lov'd remain, But all be bright, be pure, be his again! These were the wildering dreams, whose curst deceit Had chain'd her soul beneath the tempter's feet, Which came across her frenzy's full career An isle of ice encounters some swift bark, And, startling all its wretches from their sleep, Would it were thus, unhappy girl, with thee! By one cold impulse hurls them to the deep ;But, though light came, it came but partially ; So came that shock not frenzy's self could bear, Enough to show the maze, in which thy sense And waking up each long-lull'd image there, Wander'd about,—but not to guide it thence; But check'd her headlong soul, to sink it in despair! Enough to glimmer o'er the yawning wave, But not to point the harbour which might save. Wan and dejected, through the evening dusk, Hours of delight and peace, long left behind, She now went slowly to that small kiosk, With that dear form came rushing o'er her mind; Where, pondering alone his impious schemes, But oh! to think how deep her soul had gone MOKANNA waited her—too wrapt in dreams In shame and falsehood since those moments shone; Of the fair-ripening future's rich success, And, then, her oath-there madness lay again, To heed the sorrow, pale and spiritless, That sat upon his victim's downcast brow, Or mark how slow her step, how alter'd now From the quick, ardent Priestess, whose light bound Yet, one relief this glance of former years Came like a spirit's o'er th’ unechoing ground, - Was thrilling fire, whose every thought a trance! While lamps around—not such as lend their ray In holy Koom,' or Mecca's dim arcades, But brilliant, soft, such light as lovely maids Look loveliest in, shed their luxurious glow (A summons proud and rare, which all but she, And she, till now, had heard with extacy,) Upon his mystic Veil's white glittering flow. To meet MOKANNA at his place of prayer, Beside him, 'stead of beads and books of prayer, Which the world fondly thought he mused on there, A garden oratory, cool and fair, By the stream's side, where still at close of day Stood vases, fill'd with KıSHMEE’s? golden wine, The Prophet of the Veil retir'd to pray; And the red weepings of the SHIRAZ vine; Sometimes alone-but, oftener far, with one, Of which his curtain'd lips full many a draught Took zealously, as if each drop they quaff'd, Like ZEMZEM's Spring of Holiness,' had power 1 The cities of Com (or Koom] and Cashan are full of Had, more than once, thrown off his soul's disguise, mosques, mausoleums, and sepulchres of the descendants And utter'd such unheav'nly, monstrous things, of Ali, the Saints of Persia. Chardin. As ev'n across the desperate wanderings 2 An Island in the Persian Gulf, celebrated for its white wine. Of a weak intellect, whose lamp was out, 3 The miraculous well at Mecca; so called, says Sale, Threw startling shadows of dismay and doubt ;- from the murmuring of its watere. |