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For though thy lip should sweetly counsel wrong, His breath is the soul of flowers like these,
Those vestal eyes would disavow its song.

And his floating eyes-oh! they resemble
But thou hast breath'd such purity, thy lay

Blue water-lilies,' when the breeze Returns so fondly to youth's virtuous day,

Is making the stream around them tremble ! And leads thy soul-if e'er it wander'd thence

Hail to thee, hail to thee, kindling power! So gently back to its first innocence,

Spirit of Love, Spirit of Bliss ! That I would sooner stop th' unchained dove,

Thy holiest time is the moonlight hour, When swift returning to its home of love,

And there never was moonlight so sweet as this And round its snowy wing new fetters twine, Than turn from virtue one pure wish of thine."

By the fair and brave,

Who blushing unite, Scarce had this feeling pass'd, when, sparkling

Like the sun and the wave, through

When they meet at night! The gently open'd curtains of light blue

By the tear that shows That veil'd the breezy casement, countless eyes,

When passion is nigh, Peeping like stars through the blue evening skies,

As the rain-drop flows
Look'd laughing in, as if to mock the pair

From the heat of the sky!
That sat so still and melancholy there.-
And now the curtains fly apart, and in

By the first love-beat
From the cool air, 'mid showers of jessamine

Of the youthful heart, Which those without fling after them in play,

By the bliss to meet, Two lightsome maidens spring, lightsome as they

And the pain to part ! Who live in th' air on odours, and around

By all that thou hast The bright saloon, scarce conscious of the ground,

To mortals given, Chase one another in a varying dance

Which-oh! could it last, Of mirth and languor, coyness and advance,

This earth were heaven!
Too eloquently like love's warm pursuit :

We call thee hither, entrancing Power!
While she, who sung so gently to the lute
Her dream of home, steals timidly away,

Spirit of Love! Spirit of Bliss !

Thy holiest time is the moonlight hour! Shrinking as violets do in summer's ray,

And there never was moonlight so sweet as this But takes with her from Azim's heart that sigh We sometimes give to forms that pass us by In the world's crowd, too lovely to remain,

Impatient of a scene, whose luxuries stole,

Spite of himself, too deep into his soul, Creatures of light we never see again!

And where, 'midst all that the young heart loves most, Around the white necks of the nymphs who danc'a, Flowers, music, smiles, to yield was to be lost; Hung carcanets of orient gems, that glanc'd

The youth had started up and turn’d away More brilliant than the sea-glass glittering o'er

From the light nymphs and their luxurious lay, The hills of crystal on the Caspian shore;'

To muse upon the pictures that hung round, While from their long, dark tresses, in a fall

Bright images, that spoke without a sound, Of curls descending, bells as musical

And views, like vistas into fairy ground. As those that, on the golden-shafted trees

But here again new spells came o'er his sense ;Of EDEN, shake in the Eternal Breeze,?

All that the pencil's mute omnipotence
Rung round their steps, at every bound more sweet, Could call up into life, of soft and fair,
As 'twere th' ecstatic language of their feet !

Of fond and passionate, was glowing there;
At length the chase was o'er, and they stood wreath'd Nor yet too warm, but touch'd with that fine art
Within each other's arms; while soft there breath'd Which paints of pleasure but the purer part;
Through the cool casement, mingled with the sighs

Which knows ev'n Beauty when half-veil'd is best, Of moonlight flowers, music that seem'd to rise

Like her own radiant planet of the west, From some still lake, so liquidly it rose;

Whose orb when half retir'd looks loveliest!
And, as it swell'd again at each faint close,

There hung the history of the Genii-King,
The ear could track through all that maze of chords Trac'd through each gay, voluptuous wandering
And young sweet voices, these impassion'd words

With her from SABA's bowers, in whose bright eyes

He read that to be blest is to be wise;? — A SPIRIT there is, whose fragrant sigh

Here fond ZULEIKA’ woos with open arms Is burning now through earth and air ; The Hebrew boy, who flies from her young charms, Where cheeks are blushing, the Spirit is nigh, Yet, flying, turns to gaze, and, half undone,

Where lips are meeting, the Spirit is there! Wishes that heav'n and she could both be won!

1 "To the north of us, (on the coast of the Caspian, near 1 The blue lotos, which grows in Cashmere and in Badku) was a mountain which sparkled like diamonds, Persia. arising from the sea-glass and crystals, with which it 2 For the loves of King Solomon, (who was supposed to abounds."- Journey of the Russian Ambassador to Per-preside over the whole race of Genii] with Balkis, the sia, 1746.

Queen of Sheba or Saba, see D' Herbelot, and the Notes 2 "To which will be added, the sound of the bells, hang- on the Koran, chap. 2. ing on the trees, which will be put in motion by the wind 3 The wife of Potiphar, thus named by the Orientals. proceeding from the throne of God, as often as the blessed Her adventure with the Patriarch Joseph is the subject of wish for music."-Sale

many of their poems and romances

And here MOHAMMED, born for love and guile,
Forgets the Koran in his Mary's smile ;-
Then beckons some kind angel from above
With a new text to consecrate their love!!

With rapid step, yet pleas'd and lingering eye,
Did the youth pass these pictur'd stories by,
And hasten'd to a casement, where the light
Or the calm moon came in, and freshly bright
The fields without were seen, sleeping as still
As if no life remain'd in breeze or rill.

Here paus'd he, while the music, now less near,
Breath'd with a holier language on his ear,
As though the distance and that heavenly ray
Through which the sounds came floating, took away
All that had been too earthly in the lay.
Oh! could he listen to such sounds unmov'd,
And by that light-nor dream of her he lov'd?
Dream on, unconscious boy! while yet thou may'st;
'Tis the last bliss thy soul shall ever taste.
Clasp yet awhile her image to thy heart,
Ere all the light, that made it dear, depart.
Think of her smiles as when thou saw'st them last,
Clear, beautiful, by nought of earth o'ercast;
Recall her tears, to thee at parting given,
Pure as they weep, if angels weep, in heaven!
Think in her own still bower she waits thee now,
With the same glow of heart and bloom of brow,
Yet shrin'd in solitude-thine all, thine only,
Like the one star above thee, bright and lonely!
Oh that a dream so sweet, so long enjoy'd,
Should be so sadly, cruelly destroy'd!

Put back the ringlets from her brow, and gaz'd
Upon those lids, where once such lustre blaz'd,
Ere he could think she was indeed his own,
Own darling maid, whom he so long had known
In joy and sorrow, beautiful in both;
Who, e'en when grief was heaviest-when loth
He left her for the wars-in that worst hour
Sat in her sorrow like the sweet night-flower,'
When darkness brings its weeping glories out,
And spreads its sighs like frankincense about!

"Look up my ZELICA-one moment show
Those gentle eyes to me, that I may know
Thy life, thy loveliness is not all gone,
But there, at least, shines as it ever shone.
Come, look upon thy AZIM-one dear glance,
Like those of old, were heaven! whatever chance
Hath brought thee here, oh! 'twas a blessed one!
There-my sweet lids-they move-that kiss hath run
Like the first shoot of life through every vein,
And now I clasp her, mine, all mine again!
Oh the delight-now, in this very hour,
When, had the whole rich world been in my power,
I should have singled out thee, only thee,
From the whole world's collected treasury-
To have thee here-to hang thus fondly o'er
My own best purest ZELICA once more!"

It was indeed the touch of those lov'd lips
Upon her eyes that chas'd their short eclipse,
And, gradual as the snow, at heaven's breath,
Melts off and shows the azure flowers beneath,
Her lids unclos'd, and the bright eyes were seen

The song is hush'd, the laughing nymphs are flown, Gazing on his,-not, as they late had been,

Quick, restless, wild-but mournfully serene;
As if to lie, ev'n for that tranc'd minute,
nigh-So near his heart, had consolation in it;

And he is left, musing of bliss, alone;-
Alone?-no, not alone-that heavy sigh,
That sob of grief, which broke from some one
Whose could it be?-alas! is misery found
Here, even here, on this enchanted ground?
He turns, and sees a female form, close veil'd,
Leaning, as if both heart and strength had fail'd,
Against a pillar near;-not glittering o'er
With gems and wreaths, such as the other wore,
But in that deep-blue melancholy dress,2
BOKHARA's maidens wear in mindfulness
Of friends or kindred, dead or far away;-
And such as ZELICA had on that day

He left her, when, with heart too full to speak,
He took away her last warm tears upon his cheek.

A strange emotion stirs within him,-more
Than mere compassion ever wak'd before;
Unconsciously he opes his arms, while she
Springs forward, as with life's last energy,
But, swooning in that one convulsive bound,
Sinks, ere she reach his arms, upon the ground;—
Her veil falls off—her faint hands clasp his knees-
"Tis she herself!-'tis ZELICA he sees!
But, ah, so pale, so chang'd—none but a lover
Could in that wreck of beauty's shrine discover
The once ador'd divinity! ev'n he
Stood for some moments mute, and doubtingly

1 The particulars of Mahomet's amour with Mary, the Coptic girl, in justification of which he added a new chapter to the Koran, may be found in Gagnier's Notes upon Abulfeda, p. 151.

2 "Deep-blue is their mourning colour."-Hanway.

And thus to wake in his belov'd caress
Took from her soul one half its wretchedness.
But when she heard him call her good and pure,
Oh 'twas too much-too dreadful to endure!
Shuddering she broke away from his embrace,
And, hiding with both hands her guilty face,
Said, in a tone, whose anguish would have riven
A heart of very marble, "pure !-oh! heaven."—
That tone-those looks so chang'd-the withering
blight,

That sin and sorrow leave where'er they light-
The dead despondency of those sunk eyes,
Where once, had he thus met her by surprise,
He would have seen himself, too happy boy!
Reflected in a thousand lights of joy;
And then the place, that bright unholy place,
Where vice lay hid beneath each winning grace
And charm of luxury, as the viper weaves
Its wily covering of sweet balsam-leaves;2—
All struck upon his heart, sudden and cold
As death itself;-it needs not to be told—
No, no-he sees it all, plain as the brand
Of burning shame can mark-whate'er the hand,

1 The sorrowful nyctanthes, which begins to spread its rich odour after sunset.

2 "Concerning the vipers, which Pliny says were frequent among the balsam-trees, I made very particular inquiry: several were brought me alive, both in Yambo and Jidda."-Bruce

1

That could from heav'n and him such brightness sever, Enough, that we are parted—that there rolls 'Tis done-to heav'n and him she's lost for ever! A flood of headlong fate between our souls, It was a dreadful moment; not the tears,

Whose darkness severs me as wide from thee The lingering, lasting misery of years,

As hell from heav'n, to all eternity !"Could match that minute's anguish-all the worst

“Zelica! Zelica!" the youth exclaim'd, Of sorrow's elements in that dark burst,

In all the tortures of a mind inflam'd Broke o'er his soul, and, with one crash of fate,

Almost to madness—“by that sacred Heav'n, Laid the whole hopes of his life desolate!

Where yet, if pray’rs can move, thou'lt be forgiven, “Oh! curse me not,” she cried, as wild he toss'd As thou art here--here, in this writhing heart, His desperate hand tow'rds heav'n—“though I am All sinful, wild, and ruin'd as thou art! lost,

By the remembrance of our once pure love,
Think not that guilt, that falsehood made me fall; Which, like a church-yard light, still burns above
No, no—'twas grief, 'twas madness did it all! The grave of our lost souls—which guilt in thee
Nay, doubt me not—though all thy love hath ceas'd— Cannot extinguish, nor despair in me!
I know it hath-yet, yet believe, at least,

I do conjure, implore thee to fly hence-
That every spark of reason's light must be

If thou hast yet one spark of innocence,
Quench'd in this brain, ere I could stray from thee! Fly with me from this place.
They told me thou wert dead-why, Azim, why,

“ With thee! oh bliss Did we not both of us that instant die When we were parted ?-oh, could'st thou but know what! take the lost one with thee ?-let her rove

'Tis worth whole years of torment to hear this. With what a deep devotedness of woe

By thy dear side, as in those days of love, I wept thy absence-o'er and o'er again

When we were both so happy, both so pure Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain,

Too heavenly dream! if there's on earth a cure And memory, like a drop, that, night and day,

For the sunk heart, 'tis this--day after day Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!

To be the blest companion of thy way ;Didst thou but know how pale I sat at home,

To hear thy angel eloquence--to see My eyes still turn'd the way thou wert to come,

Those virtuous eyes for ever turn'd on me; And, all the long, long night of hope and fear,

And in their light re-chasten'd silently, Thy voice and step still sounding in my ear

Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun, Oh God! thou would'st not wonder, that, at last,

Grow pure by being purely shone upon! When every hope was all at once o'ercast,

And thou wilt pray for me I know thou wiltWhen I heard frightful voices round me say

At the dim vesper hour, when thoughts of guilt Azim is dead!--this wretched brain gave way,

Come heaviest o'er the heart, thou'lt lift thine eyes, And I became a wreck, at random driven,

Full of sweet tears, unto the darkening skies, Without one glimpse of reason or of Heaven

And plead for me with Heav'n, till I can dare All wild—and ev'n this quenchless love within

To fix my own weak, sinful glances there ; Turn'd to foul fires to light me into sin !

Till the good angels, when they see me cling Thou pitiest me--I knew thou would'st—that sky

For ever near thee, pale and sorrowing, Hath nought beneath it half so lorn as I.

Shall for thy sake pronounce my soul forgiven, The fiend, who lur'd me hither-hist! come near,

And bid thee take thy weeping slave to heaven!
Or thou too, thou art lost, if he should hear-

Oh yes, I'll fly with thee.-
Told me such things-oh! with such dev'lish art,
As would have ruin'd ev'n a holier heart,

Scarce had she said
Of thee, and of that ever-radiant sphere,

These breathless words, when a voice, deep and dread Where, bless'd at length, if I but serv'd him here, As that of MONKER, waking up the dead I should for ever live in thy dear sight,

From their rst sleep-so startling 'twas to bothAnd drink from those pure eyes eternal light! Rung through the casement near, “Thy oath! thg Think, think how lost, how madden'd I must be,

oath!" To hope that guilt could lead to God or thee! Oh Heav'n, the ghastliness of that maid's look! Thou weep'st for me-do, weep---oh! that I durst “ 'Tis he,” faintly she cried, while terror shook Kiss off that tear! but, no—these lips are curst, Her inmost core, nor durst she lift her eyes, They must not touch thee ;-one divine caress, Though through the casement, now, nought but the One blessed moment of forgetfulness

skies I've had within those arms, and that shall lie, And moonlight fields were seen, calm as before-Shrin'd in my soul's deep memory till I die! “ 'Tis he, and I am his—all, all is o'erThe last of joy's last relics here below,

Go-fly this instant, or thou art ruin'd tooThe one sweet drop in all this waste of woe, My oath, my oath, oh God! 'tis all too true, My heart has treasur'd from affection's spring, True as the worm in this cold heart it isTo soothe and cool its deadly withering !

I am Mokanna's bride-his, Azim, his.But thou—yes, thou must go--for ever go;

The Dead stood round us, while I spoke that vow : This place is not for thee--for thee! oh no : Their blue lips echo'd it-I hear them now! Did I but tell thee half, thy tortur'd brain

Their eyes glar'd on me, while I pledg'd that bowl, Would burn like mine, and mine go wild again! 'Twas burning blood-I feel it in my soul ! Enough, that Guilt reigns here—that hearts, once good, And the Veil'd Bridegroom—hist! I've seen to-night Now tainted, chill'd and broken, are his food. What angels know not of_so foul a sight.

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mory !

So horriblemoh! may'st thou never see

of a Princess, every thing was arranged as on the What there lies hid from all but hell and me! preceding evening, and all listened with eagerness, But I must hence-off, off-I am not thine,

while the story was thus continued :Nor Heav'n's, nor Love's, nor aught that is divineHold me not-ha!-think'st thou the fiends that sever Whose are the gilded tents that crowd the way, Hearts, cannot sunder hands ?—thus, then--for ever!" Where all was waste and silent yesterday?

This City of War, which, in a few short hours, With all that strength which madness lends the Hath sprung up here, as if the magic powers weak,

Of Him, who, in the twinkling of a star, She flung away his arm; and, with a shriek,- Built the high pillar'd halls of ChilMINAR,' Whose sound, though he should linger out more years Had conjur'd up, far as the eye can see, Than wretch e'er told, can never leave his ears, This world of tents, and domes, and sun-bright arFlew up through that long avenue of light, Fleetly as some dark, ominous bird of night,

Princely pavilions, screen'd by many a fold
Across the sun, and soon was out of sight.

Of crimson cloth, and topp'd with balls of gold ;-
Steeds, with their housings of rich silver spun,

Their chains and poitrels glittering in the sun; Lalla Rookh could think of nothing all day but And camels, tufted o'er with Yemen's shells, the misery of these two young lovers. Her gaiety Shaking in every breeze their light-ton'd bells! was gone, and she looked pensively even upon FAD- But yester-eve, so motionless around, LADEEN. She felt too, without knowing why, a sort So mute was this wide plain, that not a sound of uneasy pleasure in imagining that Azim must have But the far torrent, or the locust-bird? been just such a youth as FERAMORZ; just as worthy Hunting among the thickets, could be heard ;to enjoy all the blessings, without any of the pangs, Yet hark! what discords now, of every kind, of that illusive passion, which too often, like the Shouts, laughs, and screams, are revelling in the wind! sunny apples of Istkahar, is all sweetness on one side, The neigh of cavalry; the tinkling throngs and all bitterness on the other.

Of laden camels and their driver's songs ;As they passed along a sequestered river after sun- Ringing of arms, and flapping in the breeze set, they saw a young Hindoo girl upon the bank, Of streamers from ten thousand canopies ;-whose employment seemed to them so strange, that War-music, bursting out from time to time they stopped their palankeens to observe her. She With gong and tymbalon's tremendous chime ;had lighted a small lamp, filled with oil of cocoa, Or, in the pause, when harsher sounds are mute, and placing it in an earthen dish, adorned with a The mellow breathings of some horn or flute, wreath of flowers, had committed it with a trembling That, far off, broken by the eagle note hand to the stream, and was now anxiously watching Of th’ Abyssinian trumpet, swell and float ? its progress down the current, heedless of the gay

Who leads this mighty army?-ask ye “who ?" cavalcade which had drawn up beside her. LALLA And mark ye not those banners of dark hue, Rookh was all curiosity :-when one of her attend. The Night and Shadow, over yonder tent ?ants, who had lived upon the banks of the Ganges, It is the Caliph's glorious armament. (where this ceremony is so frequent, that often, in Rous'd in his palace by the dread alarms, the dusk of the evening, the river is seen glittering all That hourly came, of the false Prophet's arms, over with lights, like the Oton-tala or Sea of Stars, And of his host of infidels, who hurl'd informed the Princess that it was the usual way in Defiance fierce at Islam and the world;which the friends of those who had gone on dangerous Though worn with Grecian warfare, and behind voyages offered up vows for their safe return. If the The veils of his bright palace calm reclin'd, lamp sunk immediately, the omen was disastrous; Yet brook'd he not such blasphemy should stain, but if it went shining down the stream, and continued Thus unreveng’d, the evening of his reign; to burn till entirely out of sight, the return of the be

But, having sworn upon the Holy Grave loved object was considered as certain.

To conquer or to perish, once more gave LALLA Rooky, as they moved on, more than once looked back, to observe how the young Hindoo's lamp proceeded; and, while she saw with pleasure have been built by the Genii, acting under the orders of Jan

1 The edifices of Chilminar and Balbec are supposed to that it was still unextinguished, she could not help ben Jan, who governed the world long before the time of fearing that all the hopes of this life were no better Adam. than that feeble light upon the river. The remainder of the water of a fountain, between Shiraz and Ispahan,

2 A native of Khorassan, and allured southward by means of the journey was passed in silence. She now, for called the Fountain of Birds, of which it is so fond that it the first time, felt that shade of melancholy, which will follow wherever that water is carried. comes over the youthful maiden's heart, as sweet which signifies, The note of the Eagle.”—Note of Bruce's

3“This trumpet is often called in Abyssinia, nesser cano, and transient as her own breath upon a mirror; nor editor. was it till she heard the lute of FERAMORZ, touched

4 The two black standards borne before the Caliphs of lightly at the door of her pavilion, that she waked the House of Abbas were called, allegorically, the Night and

the Shadow. See Gibbon. from the reverie in which she had been wandering. 5 The Mahometan Religion. Instantly her eyes were lighted up with pleasure, and,

6 “The Persians swear by the Tomb of Shah Besade, after a few unheard remarks from FadLADEEN upon asservate a matter, he will ask him if he dare swear by tho

who is buried at Casbin; and when one desires another to tnc indecorum of a poet seating himself in presencel Holy Grave.”-Struy.

F

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His shadowy banners proudly to the breeze,
And, with an army nurs'd in victories,
Here stands to crush the rebels that o'er-run
His blest and beauteous Province of the Sun.
Ne'er did the march of MAHADI display
Such pomp before;-not e'en when on his way
TO MECCA'S Temple, when both land and sea
Were spoil'd to feed the Pilgrim's luxury;'
When round him, 'mid the burning sands, he saw
Fruits of the North in icy freshness thaw,
And cool'd his thirsty lip beneath the glow
Of MECCA's sun, with urns of Persian snow :2-
Nor e'er did armament more grand than that,
Pour from the kingdoms of the Caliphat.
First, in the van, the People of the Rock,3
On their light mountain steeds, of royal stock ;4
Then Chieftains of DAMASCUS, proud to see
The flashing of their swords' rich marquetry;5
Men from the regions near the VOLGA's mouth,
Mix'd with the rude, black archers of the South;
And Indian lancers, in white-turban'd ranks,
From the far SINDE, or ATTOCK's sacred banks,
With dusky legions from the land of Myrrh,
And many a mace-arm'd Moor, and Mid-Sea islander.
Nor less in number, though more new and rude
In warfare's school, was the vast multitude
That, fir'd by zeal, or by oppression wrong'd,
Round the white standard of the Impostor throng'd.
Besides his thousands of Believers,-blind,
Burning and headlong as the Samiel wind,—
Many who felt, and more who fear'd to feel
The bloody Islamite's converting steel,
Flock'd to his banner;-Chiefs of the UZBEK race,
Waving their heron crests with martial grace;"
TURKOMANS, Countless as their flocks, led forth
From th' aromatic pastures of the North;
Wild warriors of the turquoise hills-and those
Who dwell beyond the everlasting snows
Of HINDOO KOSH," in stormy freedom bred,
Their fort the rock, their camp the torrent's bed.
But none, of all who own'd the Chief's command,
Rush'd to that battle-field with bolder hand,
Or sterner hate, than IRAN's outlaw'd men,
Her worshippers of fire1o-all panting then
For vengeance on the accursed Saracen;

Vengeance at last for their dear country spurn'd,
Her throne usurp'd, and her bright shrines o'erturn d
From YEZD's' eternal Mansion of the Fire,
Where aged saints in dreams of Heav'n expire;
From BADKU, and those fountains of blue flame
That burn into the CASPIAN,2 fierce they camc,
Careless for what or whom the blow was sped,
So vengeance triumph'd, and their tyrants bled!

Such was the wild and miscellaneous host,
That high in air their motly banners tost
Around the Prophet Chief-all eyes still bent
Upon that glittering Veil, where'er it went,
That beacon through the battle's stormy flood,
That rainbow of the field, whose showers were blood!

Twice hath the sun upon their conflict set,
And ris'n again, and found them grappling yet;
While steams of carnage, in his noon-tide blaze,
Smoke up to heav'n--hot as that crimson haze
By which the prostrate Caravan is aw'd,

In the red Desert, when the wind's abroad!

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On, swords of God!" the panting CALIPH calls,"Thrones for the living-Heav'n for him who falls!" On, brave avengers, on," MOKANNA cries, "And EBLIS blast the recreant slave that flies!" Now comes the brunt, the crisis of the day— They clash-they strive-the CALIPH's troops give way!

1 Mahadi, in a single pilgrimage to Mecca, expended six millions of dinars of gold.

2 "Nivem Meccam apportavit, rem ibi aut nunquam aut raro visam."-Abulfeda.

3 The inhabitants of Hejas or Arabia Petræ, called by an Eastern writer "The People of the Rock."-Ebn Haukal. 4 "Those horses, called by the Arabians, Kochlani, of whom a written genealogy has been kept for 2000 years. They are said to derive their origin from King Solomon's steeds."-Niebuhr.

5" Many of the figures on the blades of their swords, are wrought in gold or silver, or in marquetry with small gems." -Asiat. Misc. vol. i.

6 Azab, or Saba.

7 "The Chiefs of the Uzbec Tartars wear a plume of white heron's feathers in their turbans."-Account of Independent Tartary.

8"In the mountains of Nishapour, and Tous, in Khorassan, they find turquoises."-Ebn Haukal.

9 For a description of these stupendous ranges of mountains, see Elphinstone's Caubul.

10 The Ghebers or Guebres, those original natives of Persin, who adhered to their ancient faith, the religion of Zoroaster, and who, after the conquest of their country by the Arabs, were either persecuted at home, or forced to become wanderers abroad.

MOKANNA's self plucks the black Banner down,
And now the Orient World's imperial crown
Is just within his grasp-when, hark! that shout!
Some hand hath check'd the flying Moslem's rout;
And now they turn-they rally-at their head
A warrior, (like those angel youths who led,
In glorious panoply of heav'n's own mail,
The Champions of the Faith through BEDAR's vale,)'
Bold as if gifted with ten thousand lives,
Turns on the fierce pursuers' blades, and drives
At once the multitudinous torrent back,
While hope and courage kindle in his track,
And, at each step, his bloody falchion makes
Terrible vistas, through which victory breaks!
In vain MOKANNA, 'midst the general flight,
Stands, like the red moon, on some stormy night,
Among the fugitive clouds, that, hurrying by,
Leave only her unshaken in the sky!—
In vain he yells his desperate curses out,
To foes that charge, and coward friends that fly,
Deals death promiscuously to all about,
And seems of all the Great Arch-enemy!
The panic spreads-"a miracle!" throughout
The Moslem ranks, "a miracle!" they shout,

1 "Yezd, the chief residence of those ancient natives, who worship the Sun and the Fire, which latter they have carefully kept lighted, without being once extinguished for a moment, above 3000 years, on a mountain near Yezd, called Ater Quedah, signifying the House or Mansion of the Fire. He is reckoned very unfortunate who d'es off that mountain."-Stephen's Persia.

2" When the weather is hazy, the springs of Naptha (on an island near Baku) boil up higher, and the Naptha often takes fire on the surface of the earth, and runs in a flame into the sea, to a distance almost incredible."-Hanway on the everlasting Fire at Baku.

3 In the great victory gained by Mahomed at Bedar, ho was assisted, say the Mussulmans, by three thousand angels, led by Gabriel, mounted on his horse Hiazum.-The Koran and its Commentators

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