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With silver bow, with belt
of broider'd crape, And fur-bound bonnet of
form and eye,
a summer sky, That youth to-day — a
hordes Of cooler spirits and less
practised swords — Is come to join, all bravery and belief, The creed and standard of the heaven-sent Chief.
Though few his years, the west already knows Young Azim's fame; beyond thi Olympian snows, Ere manhood darken'd o'er his downy cheek, O'erwhelm'd in fight, and captive to the Greek,
He linger'd there, till peace dissolved his chains;
Believes the form to which he bends his knee,
Low as young Azim knelt, that motley crowd
chance and change,
“ Nor think ’tis only the gross spirits, warm’d With duskier fire and for earth’s medium form’d, That run this course ; beings the most divine Thus deign through dark mortality to shine. Such was the essence that in Adam dwelt, To which all heaven, except the Proud One, knelt ; Such the refined intelligence that glow'd In Moussa's frame, and, thence descending, flow'd Through many a Prophet's breast, — in Issa shone, And in Mohammed burn'd, till, hastening on,
(As a bright river that, from fall to fall
Again throughout th' assembly, at these words, Thousands of voices rung; the warriors' swords Were pointed up to heaven; a sudden wind In th’ open banners play’d, and from behind Those Persian hangings, that but ill could screen The haram's loveliness, white hands were seen Waving embroider'd scarves, whose motion gave A perfume forth, like those the Houris wave, When beckoning to their bowers th’ Immortal Brave.
“But these,” pursued the Chief, are truths sublime, That claim a holier mood and calmer time Than earth allows us now; this sword must first The darkling prison-house of mankind burst, Ere peace can visit them, or truth let in Her wakening daylight on a world of sin ! But then, celestial warriors, then, when all Earth's shrines and thrones before our banner fall ; When the glad slave shall at these feet lay down His broken chain, the tyrant lord his crown, The priest his book, the conqueror his wreath, And from the lips of Truth one mighty breath Shall, like a whirlwind, scatter in its breeze That whole dark pile of human mockeries, --
Then shall the
reign of Mind commence on
earth, And starting
fresh, as from a second birth, Man, in the sunshine of the world's new spring, Shall walk
transparent, like some
Then, too, your Prophet from his angel brow Shall cast the Veil, that hides its splendours now, And gladden'd earth shall through her wide ex
panse Bask in the glories of this countenance !