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He built her bower of freshness there,

Alone, at this same watching hour, And had it deck'd with costliest skill,

She first beheld his radiant eyes And fondly thought it safe as fair :

Gleam through the lattice of the bower, Think, reverend dreamer ! think so still,

Where nightly now they mix their sighs ; Nor wake to learn what Love can dare

And thought some spirit of the air Love, all-defying Love, who sees

(For what could waft a mortal there ?) No charm in trophies won with ease;

Was pausing on his moonlight way Whose rarest, dearest fruits of bliss

To listen to her lonely lay! Are pluck'd on Danger's precipice !

This fancy ne'er hath left her mind : Bolder than they, who dare not dive

And though, when terror's swoon had past, For pearls, but when the sea 's at rest,

She saw a youth, of mortal kind, Love, in the tempest most alive,

Before her in obeisance cast,Hath ever held that pearl the best

Yet often since, when he hath spoken He finds beneath the stormiest water !

Strange, awful words,-and gleams have broken Yes—ARABY's unrivall'd daughter,

From his dark eyes, too bright to bear, Though high that tower, that rock-way rude,

Oh! she hath fear'd her soul was given There's one who, but to kiss thy cheek,

To some unhallow'd child of air, Would climb th' untrodden solitude

Some erring Spirit, cast from Heaven,
Of ARARAT's tremendous peak,'

Like those angelic youths of old,
And think its steeps, though dark and dread, Who burn'd for maids of mortal mould,
Heav'n's path-ways, if to thee they led !

Bewilder'd left the glorious skies,
E'en now thou seest the flashing spray,

And lost their Heaven for woman's eyes ! That lights his oar's impatient way:

Fond girl! nor fiend, nor angel he, E'en now thou hear'st the sudden shock

Who woos thy young simplicity; Of his swift bark against the rock,

But one of earth's impassion'd sons, And stretchest down thy arms of snow,

As warm in love, as fierce in ire, As if to lift him from below!

As the best heart whose current runs
Like her to whom, at dead of night,

Full of the Day-God's living fire !
The bridegroom, with his locks of light,
Came, in the flush of love and pride,

But quench'd to-night that ardour seems,
And scal'd the terrace of his bride ;-

And pale his cheek, and sunk his brow : When, as she saw him rashly spring,

Never before, but in her dreams, Ara mid-way up in danger cling,

Had she beheld him pale as now: She flung him down her long black hair,

And those were dreams of troubled sleep, Exclaiming, breathless, “ There, love, there !"

From which 'twas joy to wake and weep And scarce did manlier nerve uphold

Visions that will not be forgot, The hero Zal in that fond hour,

But sadden every waking scene, Than wings the youth, who, fleet and bold

Like warning ghosts, that leave the spot Now climbs the rocks to Hinda's bower.

All wither'd where they once have been ! See-light as up their granite steeps

“How sweetly," said the trembling maid, The rock-goats of ARABIA clamber.3

Of her own gentle voice afraid, Fearless from crag to crag he leaps,

So long had they in silence stood, And now is in the maiden's chamber.

Looking upon that tranquil floodShe loves--but knows not whom she loves,

“ How sweetly does the moonbeam smile Nor what his race, nor whence he came ;

To-night upon yon leafy isle ! Like one who meets, in Indian groves,

Oft, in my fancy's wanderings, Some beauteous bird, without a name,

I've wish'd that little isle had wings, Brought by the last ambrosial breeze,

And we, within its fairy bowers, From isles in the undiscover'd seas,

Were wafted off to seas unknown, To show his plumage for a day

Where not a pulse should beat but ours, To wondering eyes, and wing away!

And we might live, love, die alone

Far from the cruel and the cold-
Will he thus fly-her nameless lover ?
Alla forbid ! 'twas by a moon

Where the bright eyes of angels only
As fair as this, while singing over

Should come around us to behold Some ditty to her soft Kanoon,

A paradise so pure and lonely!

Would this be world enough for thee ?"so hot, that the people are obliged to lie all day in the wa- Playful she turn'd, that he might see ter."- Marco Polo.

The passing smile her cheek put on; i This mountain is generally supposed to be inaccessible. But when she mark'd how mournfully

2 In one of the books of the Shâh Nânieh, when Zal (a celebrated hero of Persia, remarkable for his white hair)

His eyes met hers, that smile was gone; comes to the terrace of his mistress Rodahver at night, she | And bursting into heart-felt tears, lets down her long tresses to assist him in his ascent; -- he, “Yes, yes," she cried, “my hourly fears, however, manages it in a less romantic way, by fixing bis crook in a projecting beam.-See Champion's Ferdosi.

3 “On the lofty hills of Arabia Petræ are rock-goats.”- les dames en touchent dans le serrail, avec des décailles Miebuhr.

armées de pointes de coco.”—Toderini, translated by De 4 “Canun, espéce de psalterion, avec des cordes de boyaux; / Cournan.

My dreams have boded all too right-
We part--for ever part-to-night!
I knew, I knew it could not last-
'Twas bright, 'twas heavenly, but ’tis past !
Oh! ever thus, from childhood's hour,

I've seen my fondest hopes decay;
I never lov'd a tree or flower,

But 'twas the first to fade away. I never nurs'd a dear gazelle,

To glad me with its soft black eye, But when it came to know me well,

And love me, it was sure to die!
Now too-the joy most like divine,

Of all I ever dreamt or knew,
To see thee, hear thee, call thee mine

Oh misery! must I lose that too?
Yet go-on peril's brink we meet ;-

Those frightful rocks—that treacherous sea No, never come again—though sweet,

Though heaven-it may be death to thee.
Farewell—and blessings on thy way,

Where'er thou goest, beloved stranger !
Better to sit and watch that ray,
And think thee safe, though far away,

Than have thee near me, and in danger!”

“Danger!—oh, tempt me not to boast,” The youth exclaim'd—“thou little know'st What he can brave, who, born and nurst In Danger's paths, has dar'd her worst ! Upon whose ear the signal-word

Of strife and death is hourly breaking; Who sleeps with head upon the sword

His fever'd had must grasp in waking! Danger!-"

“Say on-thou fear'st not then, And we may meet-oft meet again ?".

And still, whene'er, at Haram hours, I take him cool sherbets and flowers, He tells me, when in playful mood,

A hero shall my bridegroom be, Since maids are best in battle woo'd,

And won with shouts of victory! Nay, turn not from me--thou alone

Art form'd to make both hearts thy own. Go-join his sacred ranks—thou know'st

Th’ unholy strife these Persians wage:Good Heav'n that frown!-e'en now thou glow'st With more than mortal warrior's rage. Haste to the camp by morning's light, And, when that sword is rais'd in fight, Oh, still remember Love and I Beneath its shadow trembling lie! One victory o'er those Slaves of Fire, Those impious Ghebers, whom my sire Abhors

“Hold, hold-thy words are death—" The stranger cried, as wild he flung His mantle back, and show'd beneath

The Gheber belt that round him clung.'
“Here, maiden look-weep_blush to see
All that thy sire abhors in me!
Yes—I am of that impious race,

Those Slaves of Fire, who, morn and even,
Hail their Creator's dwelling-place

Among the living lights of heaven !2
Yes—I am

am of that outcast few,
To Iran and to vengeance true,
Who curse the hour your Arabs came
To desolate our shrines of flame,

before God's burning eye, To break our country's chains, or die Thy bigot sire-nay, tremble not-

He who gave birth to those dear eyes, With me is sacred as the spot

From which our fires of worship rise! But know—'twas he I sought that night,

When, from my watch-boat on the sea, I caught this turret's glimmering light, And

up

the rude rocks desperately Rush'd to my prey-thou know'st the rest I climb'd the gory vulture's nest,

And found a trembling dove within ;-
Thine, thine the victory—thine the sin-
If Love hath made one thought his own,
That Vengeance claims first-last-alone !

Oh! had we never, never met,
Or could this heart e'en now forget
How link’d, how bless'd we might have been,
Had Fate not frown'd so dark between,
Hadst thou been born a Persian maid,

In neighbouring valleys had we dwelt,
Through the same fields in childhood play'd,

At the same kindling altar knelt,Then, then, while all those nameless ties,

And swear,

**Oh! look not so beneath the skies
I now fear nothing but those eyes.
If aught on earth could charm or force
My spirit from its destin'd course, -
If aught could inake this soul forget
The bond to which its seal is set,
"Twould be those eyes ;—they, only they,
Could melt that sacred seal away!
But no--'tis fix'd-my awful doom
Is fix'd-on this side of the tomb
We meet no more-why, why did Heaven
Mingle two souls that earth has riven,
Has rent asunder wide as ours ?
Oh, Arab maid! as soon the Powers
Of Light and Darkness may combine,
As I be link'd with thee or thine !
Thy father

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“Holy ALLA save His gray-head from that lightning glance! Thou know'st him not-he loves the brave

Nor lives there under heaven's expanse One who would prize, would worship thee, And thy bold spirit, more than he. Oft when, in childhood, I have play'd

With the bright falchion by his side, I've heard him swear his lisping maid

In time should be a warrior's bride.

1“They (the Ghebers) lay so much stress on the cushee or girdle, as not to dare to be an instant without it. Grose's Voyage. “Le jeune homme nia d'abord la chose; mais, ayant été dépouille de sa robe, et la large ceinture qu'il portait comme Ghebr,” etc. etc.-D'Herbelot, art. Agduani.

2“They suppose the Throne of the Almighty is seated in the sun, and hence their worship of that luminary."-Hanway.

In which the charm of Country lies,

And calm and smooth it seem'd to win Had round our hearts been hourly spun,

Its moonlight way before the wind, Till Iran's cause and thine were one ;

As if it bore all peace within,
While in thy lute's awakening sigh

Nor left one breaking heart behind.
I heard the voice of days gone by,
And saw in every smile of thine
Returning hours of glory shine!--
While the wrong'd Spirit of our Land

The Princess, whose heart was sad enough already, Liv'd, look’d, and spoke her wrongs through thee- could have wished that Feramorz had chosen a less God! who could then this sword withstand ? melancholy story; as it is only to the happy that tears Its very flash were victory!

are a luxury. Her ladies, however, were by no But now--estrang'd, divorc'd for ever,

means sorry that love was once more the Poet's Far as the grasp of Fate can sever;

theme; for, when he spoke of love, they said, his Our only ties what Love has wove,

voice was as sweet as if he had chewed the leaves of Faith, friends, and country, sunder'd wide ;- that enchanted tree, which grows over the tomb of And then, then only, true to love,

the musician, Tan-Sein. When false to all that's dear beside!

Their road all the morning had lain through a very Thy father Iran's deadliest foe

dreary country ;-through valleys, covered with a low Thyself, perhaps, e'en now--but no

bushy jungle, where, in more than one place, the Hate never look'd so lovely yet!

awful signal of the bamboo staff, with the white flag No-sacred to thy soul will be

at its top, reminded the traveller that in that very The land of him who could forget

spot the tiger had made some human creature his vicAll but that bleeding land for thee!

tim. It was therefore with much pleasure that they When other eyes shall see, unmov'd,

arrived at sunset in a safe and lovely glen, and enHer widows mourn, her warriors fall,

camped under one of those holy trees, whose smooth Thou'lt think how well one Gheber lov'd,

columns and spreading roofs seem to destine them And for his sake thou'lt weep for all !

for natural temples of religion. Beneath the shade, But look

some pious hands had erected pillars ornamented With sudden start he turn'd

with the most beautiful porcelain, which now supAnd pointed to the distant wave,

plied the use of mirrors to the young maidens, as they Where lights, like charnel meteors, burn'd

adjusted their hair in descending from the palankeens. Bluely, as o'er some seaman's grave;

Here while, as usual, the Princess sat listening And fiery darts, at intervals,'

anxiously, with FADLADEEN in one of his loftiest Flew up all sparkling from the main,

moods of criticism by her side, the young Poet, lean. As if each star that nightly falls,

ing against a branch of the tree, thus continued his Were shooting back to heaven again.

story :

“My signal-lights !--I must away

The morn hath risen clear and calm, Both, both are ruin'd, if I stay.

And o'er the Green Sea' palely shines, Farewell--sweet life! thou cling'st in vain

Revealing BAHREIN's groves of palm, Now--Vengeance !--I am thine again.”

And lighting Kishma's? amber vines. Fiercely he broke away, nor stopp'd

Fresh smell the shores of ARABY, Nor look'd--but from the lattice dropp'd

While breezes from the Indian sea Down mid the pointed crags beneath,

Blow round SELAMA's' sainted cape, As if he fled from love to death.

And curl the shining flood beneath, -While pale and mute young Hinda stood,

Whose waves are rich with many a grape, Nor mov'd, till in the silent flood

And cocoa-nut and flowery wreath, A momentary plunge below

Which pious seamen, as they pass'd, Startled her from her trance of woe;

Had tow'rd that holy headland castShrieking she to the lattice flew,

Oblations to the Genii there “I come I come--if in that tide

For gentle skies and breezes fair! Thou sleep'st to-night--I'll sleep there too, The nightingale now bends her flight In death's cold wedlock by thy side.

From the high trees, where all the night Oh! I would ask no happier bed

She sung so sweet, with none to listen, Than the chill wave my love lies under ;

And hides her from the morning star Sweeter to rest together dead,

Where thickets of pomegranate glisten Far sweeter, than to live asunder!"

In the clear dawn,--bespangled o'er But no--their hour is not yet come

With dew, whose night-drops would not stain Again she sees his pinnace fly, Wafting him fleetly to his home,

1 The Persian Gulf.--" To dive for pearls in the Green Where'er that ill-starr'd home may lie;

Sea, or Persian Gulf.”—Sir W. Jones.

2 Islands in the Gulf.

3 Or Selemeh, the genuine name of the headland at the 1 "The Mamelukes that were in the other boat, when it entrance of the Gulf, commonly called Cape Musseldom. was dark, used to shoot up a sort of fiery arrows into the “ The Indians, when they pass the promontory, throw air, which in some measure resembled lightning or falling cocoa-nuts, fruits, or flowers into the sea to secure a prostars."- •Baumgarten.

pitious voyage."--Morier.

The best and brightest scimetar

Who, though they know the strife is vainThat ever youthful Sultan wore

Who, though they know the riven chain On the first morning of his reign!

Snaps but to enter in the heart

Of him who rends its links apart, And see--the Sun himself!--on wings

Yet dare the issue-blest to be
Of glory up the East he springs.

E'en for one bleeding moment free,
Angel of Light ! who, from the time
Those heavens began their march sublime,

And die in pangs of liberty!

Thou know'st them well—'tis some moons since Hath first of all the starry choir Trod in his Maker's steps of fire !

Thy turban'd troops and blood-red flags, Where are the days, thou wondrous sphere,

Thou satrap of a bigot Prince !

Have swarm’d among these Green Sea crags; When Iran, like a sun-flower, turn'd

Yet here, e'en here, a sacred band,
To meet that eye where'er it burn'd?-
When, from the banks of BENDEMEER

Ay, in the portal of that land

Thou, Arab, dar'st to call thy own, To the nut-groves of SAMARCAND

Their spears across thy path have thrown; Thy temples flam'd o'er all the land ?

Here-ere the winds half wing'd thee o'er-
Where are they? ask the shades of them

Rebellion bray'd thee from the shore.
Who, on Cadassia's? bloody plains,
Saw fierce invaders pluck the gem

Rebellion! foul, dishonouring word,
From Iran's broken diadem,

Whose wrongful blight so oft has stain'd And bind her ancient faith in chains :-

The holiest cause that tongue or sword Ask the poor exile, cast alone

Of mortal ever lost or gain'd. Ou foreign shores, unlov’d, unknown,

How many a spirit, born to bless, Beyond the Caspian's Iron Gates, 3

Hath sunk beneath that withering name, Or on the snowy Mossian mountains,

Whom but a day's, an hour's, success Far from his beauteous land of dates,

Had wafted to eternal fame! Her jasmine bowers and sunny fountains ! As exhalations when they burst Yet happier so than if he trod

From the warm earth, if chil'd at first, His own belov'd but blighted sod,

If check'd in soaring from the plain, Beneath a despot stranger’s nod!

Darken to fogs and sink again ;Oh! he would rather houseless roam

But if they once triumphant spread Where Freedom and his God may lead,

Their wings above the mountain-head,
Than be the sleekest slave at home

Become enthron'd in upper air,
That crouches to the conqueror's creed ! And turn to sun-bright glories there!
Is Iran's pride then gone for ever,

And who is he, that wields the might
Quench'd with the flame in Mithra's caves ?-

Of Freedom on the Green Sea brink,
No-she has sons that never-never-

Before whose sabre's dazzling light
Will stoop to be the Moslem's slaves,
While heaven has light or earth has graves.

The eyes of YEMEN's warriors wink?

Who comes embower'd in the spears Spirits of fire, that brood not long,

Of KERMAN's hardy mountaineers ?But flash resentment back for wrong ;

Those mountaineers, that, truest, last, And hearts, where, slow but deep, the seeds

Cling to their country's ancient rites, Of vengeance ripen into deeds;

As if that God whose eyelids cast
Till, in some treacherous hour of calm,

Their closing gleam on Iran's heights,
They burst, like Zellan's giant palm,4
Whose buds fly open with a sound

Among her snowy mountains threw

The last light of his worship too! That shakes the pigmy forests round!

'Tis HAFED-name of fear, whose sound Yes, Emir ! he, who scal'd that tower,

Chills like the muttering of a charm;And, had he reach'd thy slumbering breast,

Shout but that awful name around, Had taught thee, in a Gheber's power

And palsy shakes the manliest arm. How safe e'cn tyrants heads may rest

'Tis HAFED, most accurst and dire Is one of many, brave as he,

(So rank'd by Moslem hate and ire) Who loathe thy haughty race and thee;

Of all the rebel Sons of Fire ! 1 In speaking of the climate of Shiraz, Francklin says,

Of whose malign, tremendous power “the dew is of such a pure nature, that, if the brightest The Arabs, at their mid-watch hour scimitar should be exposed to it all night, it would not re- Such tales of fearful wonder tell, ceive the least rust." 2 The place where the Persians were finally defeated by

That each affrighted sentinel the Arabs, and their ancient monarchy destroyed.

Pulls down his cowl upon his eyes,
3 Derbend.—"Les Tures appellent cette ville Demir Capi, Lest Hafen in the midst should rise !
Porte de Fer; ce sont les Caspiæ Portæ des anciens."-D
Herbelot.

A man, they say, of monstrous birth,
4 The Talpot or Talipot tree.—"This beautiful palm- A mingled race of fame and earth,
tree, which grows in the heart of the forests, may be classed Sprung from those old, enchanted kings,'
anong the loftiest trees, and becomes s ill higher when on
the point of bursting forth from its leafy summit. The sheath

Who in their fairy helms, of yore, which then envelopes the flower is very large, and, when it bursts, makes an explosion like the report of a cannon."- 1 Tahmuras, and other ancient kings of Persia, whose Thunberg.

adventures in Fairy Land among the Peris and Dives may

A feather from the mystic wings

Of the Simoorgh resistless wore; And gifted by the Fiends of Fire, Who groan to see their shrines expire, With charms that, all in vain withstood, Would drown the Koran's light in blood! Such were the tales that won belief,

And such the colouring Fancy gave To a young, warm, and dauntless Chief,One who, no more than mortal brave, Fought for the land his soul ador'd,

For happy homes, and altars free,His only talisman, the sword,

His only spell-word, Liberty! One of that ancient hero line, Along whose glorious current shine Names that have sanctified their blood; As LEBANON's small mountain flood Is rendered holy by the ranks Of sainted cedars on its banks!! 'Twas not for him to crouch the knee Tamely to Moslem tyranny;"Twas not for him, whose soul was cast In the bright mould of ages past, Whose melancholy spirit, fed With all the glories of the dead, Though fram'd for IRAN's happiest years, Was born among her chains and tears! "Twas not for him to swell the crowd Of slavish heads, that, shrinking, bow'd Before the Moslem, as he pass'd, Like shrubs beneath the poison blastNo-far he fled, indignant fled

The pageant of his country's shame; While every tear her children shed

Fell on his soul like drops of flame; And as a lover hails the dawn

Of a first smile, so welcom'd he
The sparkle of the first sword drawn
For vengeance and for liberty!

But vain was valour-vain the flower
Of KERMAN, in that deathful hour,
Against AL HASSAN'S whelming power.
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 swarms 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:

be found in Richardson's curious Dissertation. The griffin Simoorgh, they say, took some feathers from her breast for Talmuras, with which he adorned his helmet, and transmitted them afterwards to his descendants.

1 This rivulet, says Dandini, is called the Holy River, from the "cedar-saints," among which it rises.

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 albatross1
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,
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;2
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!

Thither the vanquish'd HAFED led

His little army's last remains ;-
"Welcome, terrific glen!" he said,
"Thy gloom, that Eblis' self might dread,
Is heaven to him who flies from chains!"
O'er a dark, narrow bridge-way, known
To him and to his Chiefs alone,

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;

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

2 The Ghebers generally built their temples over subter raneous fres.

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