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And here MOHAMMED, born for love and guile, Put back the ringlets from her brow, and gaz'd
Forgets the Koran in his Mary's smile ;-

Upon those lids, where once such lustre blaz'd,
Then beckons some kind angel from above

Ere he could think she was indeed his own, With a new text to consecrate their love !!

Own darling maid, whom he so long had known With rapid step, yet pleas'd and lingering eye,

In joy and sorrow, beautiful in both; Did the youth pass these pictur'd stories by,

Who, e'en when grief was heaviest—when loth And hasten'd to a casement, where the light

He left her for the wars--in that worst hour Of the calm moon came in, and freshly bright

Sat in her sorrow like the sweet night-flower,' The fields without were seen, sleeping as still

When darkness brings its weeping glories out, As if no life remain'd in breeze or rill.

And spreads its sighs like frankincense about ! Here paus'd he, while the music, now less near,

“Look up my Zelica-one moment show Breath'd with a holier language on his ear,

Those gentle eyes to me, that I may know As though the distance and that heavenly ray

Thy life, thy loveliness is not all gone, Through which the sounds came floating, took away But there, at least, shines as it ever shone. All that had been too earthly in the lay.

Come, look upon thy Azim-one dear glance, Oh! could he listen to such sounds unmov'd,

Like those of old, were heaven! whatever chanceAnd by that light-nor dream of her he lov'd ?

Hath brought thee here, oh! 'twas a blessed one! Dream on, unconscious boy! while yet thou may'st; There—my sweet lids—they move-that kiss hath run, "Tis the last bliss thy soul shall ever taste.

Like the first shoot of life through every vein, Clasp yet awhile her image to thy heart,

And now I clasp her, mine, all mine again! Ere all the light, that made it dear, depart.

Oh the delight-now, in this very hour, Think of her smiles as when thou saw'st them last, When, had the whole rich world been in my power Clear, beautiful, by nought of earth o'ercast; I should have singled out thee, only thee, Recall her tears, to thee at parting given,

From the whole world's collected treasuryPure as they weep, if angels weep, in heaven!

To have thee here—to hang thus fondly o'er
Think in her own still bower she waits thee now,

My own best purest Zelica once more !"
With the same glow of heart and bloom of brow,
Yet shrin'd in solitude-thine all, thine only,

It was indeed the touch of those lov'd lips
Like the one star above thee, bright and lonely! Upon her eyes that chas'd their short eclipse,
Oh that a dream so gweet, so long enjoy'd,

And, gradual as the snow, at heaven's breath, Should be so sadly, cruelly destroy'd!

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,
And he is left, musing of bliss, alone ;-

Quick, restless, wild—but mournfully serene;
Alone ?-no, not alone—that heavy sigh,

As if to lie, ev'n for that tranc'd minute, That sob of grief, which broke from some one nigh— So near his heart, had consolation in it; Whose could it be ?-alas! is misery found

And thus to wake in his belov'd caress Here, even here, on this enchanted ground?

Took from her soul one half its wretchedness. He turns, and sees a female form, close veil'd,

But when she heard him call her good and pure, Leaning, as if both heart and strength had fail'd,

Oh 'twas too much-loo dreadful to endure ! Against a pillar near;—not glittering o'er

Shuddering she broke away from his embrace, With gems and wreaths, such as the other wore,

And, hiding with both hands her guilty face, But in that deep-blue melancholy dress,"

Said, in a tone, whose anguish would have riven BOKHARA's maidens wear in mindfulness

A heart of very marble, "pure !-oh! heaven."Of friends or kindred, dead or far away ;And such as Zelica had on that day

That tone-those looks so chang'd-the withering He left her,—when, with heart too full to speak,

blight,
He took away her last warm tears upon his cheek. That sin and sorrow leave where'er they light-.

The dead despondency of those sunk eyes,
A strange emotion stirs within him,-more Where once, had he thus met her by surprise,
Than mere compassion ever wak'd before; He would have seen himself, too happy boy!
Unconsciously he opes his arms, while she Reflected in a thousand lights of joy;
Springs forward, as with life's last energy,

And then the place, that bright unholy place,
But, swooning in that one convulsive bound, Where vice lay hid beneath each winning grace
Sinks, ere she reach his arms, upon the ground ;- And charm of luxury, as the viper weaves
Her veil falls off–her faint hands clasp his knees, Its wily covering of sweet balsam-leaves :-
"Tis she herself !—'tis Zelica he sees !

All struck upon his heart, sudden and cold
But, ah, so pale, so chang'd-none but a lover

As death itself ;-it needs not to be toldCould in that wreck of beauty's shrine discover

No, no-he sees it all, plain as the brand The once ador'd divinity! ev'n he

Of burning shame can mark—whate'er the hand, Stood for some moments mute, and doubtingly

1 The sorrowful nyctanthes, which begins to spread its 1 The particulars of Mahomet's amour with Mary, the rich odour after sunset. Coptic girl, in justification of which he added a new chap 2 "Concerning the vipers, which Pliny says were freter to the Koran, may be found in Gagnier's Notes upon quent among the balsam-trees, I made very particular inAbulfeda, n. 151.

quiry: several were brought me alive, both in Yambo and "Deepblue is their mourning colour."-Hanway. Jidda."-Bruce

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'll be forgivee, “Oh! curse me not,” she cried, as wild he tossid As thou art here-here, in this writhing hear, 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 henceThat 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 wcb 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 guik 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 hearTold me such things-oh! with such dev'lish art,

Oh yes, I'll fly with thee. 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 first sleep-50 startling 'twas to bothAnd drink from those pure eyes eternal light ! Rung through the casement near, “Thy oath! thy 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 th 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 too The 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 is To 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 Veild Bridegroom-hist! I've seen to-ngha Now tainted, chill'd and broken, are his food. What angels know not of-so foul a sight

So horrible-oh! 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 eagernego 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 divine Hold 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 ar Flew up through that long avenue of light,

mory!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 wmd. funny 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 passerl along a sequestered river after sun- Ringing of arms, and flapping in the breeze set, they saw a young Hirdoo 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 lignted 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, bat 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 Graves 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 Jar

.

1 The edifices of Chilminar and Balbec are supposed to that it was still unextinguished, she could not help len 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 'Ihat ii 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 euitor. was it till she heard the lute of FERAMOR Z, 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 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,

who is buried at Casbin; and when one desires another to after a few unheard remarks from FadlaDEEN upon asservate a matter, he will ask him if he dare swear by tho se indecorum of a poet seating himself in presencel Holy Grave."-Struy.

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His shadowy banners proudly to the breeze, Vengeance at last for their dear country spurn'd,
And, with an army nurs'd in victories,

Her throne usurp'd, and her bright shrines o'erturn d
Here stands to crush the rebels that o'er-run From YezD's' eternal Mansion of the Fire,
His blest and beauteous Province of the Sun. Where aged saints in dreams of Heav'n expire ;
Ne'er did the march of Mahadi display

From BADKU, and those fountains of blue flame
Such pomp before ;-not e'en when on his way

That burn into the Caspian,' fierce they camc, To Mecca's Temple, when both land and sea

Careless for what or whom the blow was sped, Were spoil'd to feed the Pilgrim's luxury;'

So vengeance triumph'd, and their tyrants bled! When round him, 'mid the burning sands, he saw

Such was the wild and miscellaneous host, Fruits of the North in icy freshness thaw,

That high in air their motly banners tost And cool'd his thirsty lip beneath the glow

Around the Prophet Chief--all eyes still bent Of Mecca's sun, with urns of Persian snow :2

Upon that glittering Veil, where'er it went, Nor e'er did armament more grand than that,

That beacon through the battle's stormy flood,
Pour from the kingdoms of the Caliphat.

That rainbow of the field, whose showers were blood!
First, in the van, the People of the Rock,"
On their light mountain steeds, of royal stock ;* Twice hath the sun upon their conflict set,
Then Chieftains of Damascus, proud to see

And ris'n again, and found them grappling yet;
The flashing of their swords' rich marquetry ;'

While steams of carnage, in his noon-tide blaze,
· Men from the regions near the Volga's mouth, Smoke up to heav'n--hot as that crimson haze
Mix'd with the rude, black archers of the South; By which the prostrate Caravan is aw'd,
And Indian lancers, in white-turban'd ranks,

In the red Desert, when the wind's abroad!
From the far SINDE, or Attock's sacred banks, On, swords of God!" the panting Caliph calls,
With dusky legions from the land of Myrrh, “ Thrones for the living-Heav'n for him who falls !'
And many a mace-arm’d Moor, and Mid-Sea islander. On, brave avengers, on," MOKAnna cries,

“ And Ellis blast the recreant slave that flies !"
Nor less in number, though more new and rude
In warfare's school, was the vast multitude

Now comes the brunt, the crisis of the dayThat, fir'd by zeal, or by oppression wrong'd,

They clash--they strive-the Caliph's troops give Round the white standard of the Impostor throng'd. Mokanna's self plucks the black Banner down,

way! Besides his thousands of Believers,-blind, Burning and headlong as the Samiel wind,

And now the Orient World's imperial crown Many who felt, and more who fear'd to feel

Is just within his grasp--when, hark! that shout! The bloody Islamite's converting steel,

Some hand hath check'd the flying Moslem's rout; Flock'd to his banner;-Chiefs of the UZBEK race,

And now they turn—they rally-at their head Waving their heron crests with martial grace;'

A warrior, (like those angel youths who led, TURKOMANS, countless as their flocks, led forth

In glorious panoply of heav'n's own mail, From th' aromatic pastures of the North;

The Champions of the Faith through Bedar's vale,) Wild warriors of the turquoise hills®—and those

Bold as if gifted with ten thousand lives, Who dwell beyond the everlasting snows

Turns on the fierce pursuers' blades, and drives Of Hindoo Kosh,' in stormy freedom bred,

At once the multitudinous torrent back, Their fort the rock, their camp the torrent's bed.

While hope and courage kindle in his track, But none, of all who own’d the Chief's command,

And, at each step, his bloody falchion makes Rush'd to that battle-field with bolder hand,

Terrible vistas, through which victory breaks! Or sterner hate, than Iran's outlaw'd men,

In vain Mokanna, 'midst the general flight, Her worshippers of firelo—all panting then

Stands, like the red moon, on some stormy night, For vengeance on the accursed Saracen;

Among the fugitive clouds, that, hurrying by,

Leave only her unshaken in the sky 1 Mahadi, in a single pilgrimage to Mecca, expended six In vain he yells his desperate curses out, millious of dinars of gold. 2 " Nivem Meccam apportavit, rem ibi aut nunquam aut To foes that charge, and coward friends that fly,

Deals death promiscuously to all about, raro visam."-Abulfeda.

3 The inhabitants of Hejas or Arabia Petræ, called by an And seems of all the Great Arch-enemy! Eastern writer “The People of the Rock."-Ebn Haukal. The panic spreads-“a miracle !" throughout whom a written genealogy has been kept for 2000 years. The Moslem ranks, “ a miracle!” they shout, 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 1 “Yezd, the chief residence of those ancient natives, wrought in gold or silver, or in marquetry with small gems." who worship the Sun and the Fire, which latter they have -Asiat. Misc. vol. i.

carefully kept lighted, without being once extinguished for 6 Azab, or Saba.

a moment, above 3000 years, on a mountain near Yezd, 7 " The Chiefs of the Uzbec Tartars wear a plume of called Ater Quedah, signifying the House or Mansion of white heron's feathers in their turbans."--Account of Indo- the Fire. He is reckoned very unfortunate who dies off pendent Tartary.

that mountain."-Stephen's Persia. 8“ In the mountains of Nisbapour, and Tous, in Khorar- 2 “When the weather is hazy, the springs of Naptha (on san, they find turquoises."- Ebn Haukal.

an island near Baku) boil up higher, and the Naptha ofen 9 For a description of these stupendous ranges of moun- takes fire on the surface of the earth, and runs in a flame tains, see Elphinstone's Caubul.

into the sea, to a distance almost incredible."- Hanway on 10 The Ghebers or Guebres, those original natives of Per- the everlasting Fire at Baku. cia, who adhered to their ancient faith, the religion of Zoro- 3 In the great victory gained by Mahomed at Bedar, ho aster, and who, after the conquest of their country by the was assisted, say the Mussulmans, by three thousand angelo, Arabs, were either persecuted at home, or forced to become led by Gabriel, mounted on his horse Hiazum.- The Korea wanderers abroad.

and its Commentators

All gazing on that youth, whose coming seems And there, like them, cold, sunless relics hang,
A light, a glory, such as breaks in dreams;

Each fix'd and chill'd into a lasting pang!
And every sword, true as o'er billows dim
The needle tracks the load-star, following him!

One sole desire, one passion now remains,

To keep life's fever still within his veins,— Right tow'rds MOKAnna now he cleaves his path, Vengeance !-dire vengeance on the wretch who cus: Impatient cleaves, as though the bolt of wrath

O'er him and all he lov'd that ruinous blast. He bears from Heav'n withheld its awful burst

For this, when rumours reach'd him in his flight From weaker heads, and souls but half-way curst,

Far, far away, after that fatal night,To break o'er him, the mightiest and the worst!

Rumours of armies, thronging to th' attack But vain his speed—though in that hour of blood,

Of the Veil'd Chief,—for this he wing'd him back, Had all God's seraphs round MOKANNA stood,

Fleet as the vulture speeds to flags unfurld, With swords of fire, ready like fate to fall,

And came when all seem'd lost, and wildly hurl'd MOKANNA's soul would have defied them all;

Himself into the scale, and sav'd a world! Yet now the rush of fugitives, too strong

For this he still lives on, careless of all For human force, hurries e'en him along;

The wreaths that glory on his path lets fall; In vain he struggles 'mid the wedg'd array

For this alone exists—like lightning-fire
Of flying thousands -he is borne away;

To speed one bolt of vengeance, and expire !
And the sole joy his baffled spirit knows
In this forc'd fight is—murdering, as he goes! But safe, as yet, that Spirit of Evil lives;
As a grim tiger, whom the torrent's might

With a small band of desperate fugitives,
Surprises in some parch'd ravine at night,

The last sole stubborn fragment, left unriven, Turns, e'en in drowning, on the wretched flocks Of the proud host that late stood fronting heaven, Swept with him in that snow-flood from the rocks, He gain'd Merou-breath'd a short curse of blood And, to the last, devouring on his way,

O’er his lost throne—then pass'd the Jihon's flood,' Bloodies the stream he hath not power to stay! And gathering all, whose madness of belief " Alla il Alla !"-the glad shout renew

Still saw a Saviour in their downfall’n Chief, “ Alla Akbar!"'-the Caliph 's in Merou.

Rais'd the white banner within NEKSHEB's gates, a Hang out your gilded tapestry in the streets,

And there, untam'd, th' approaching conqueror waits
And light your shrines, and chaunt your ziraleets ;? Of all his Haram, all that busy hive,
The swords of God have triumph'd-on his throne With music and with sweets sparkling alive,
Your Caliph sits, and the Veil'd Chief hath flown.

He took but one, the partner of his flight,
Who does not envy that young warrior now, One, not for love-not for her beauty's light-
To whom the Lord of Islam bends his brow, For ZELICA stood withering midst the gay,
In all the graceful gratitude of power,

Wan as the blossom that fell yesterday
For his throne's safety in that perilous hour ?

From the Alma tree and dies, while overhead Who does not wonder, when, amidst th' acclaim

To-day's young flower is springing in its stead !! Of thousands, heralding to heaven his name- No, not for love—the deepest damn'd must be 'Mid all those holier harmonies of fame,

Touch'd with heaven's glory, ere such fiends as he Which sounds along the path of virtuous souls, Can feel one glimpse of love's divinity! Like music round a planet as it rolls !

But no, she is his victim ;-there lie all He turns away coldly, as if some gloom

Her charms for him-charms that can never pall, Hung o'er his heart no triumphs can illume ;

As long as hell within his heart can stir, Some sightless grief, upon whose blasted gaze

Or one faint trace of heaven is left in her. Though glory's light may play, in vain it plays !

To work an angel's ruin,—to behold Yes, wretched Azim! thine is such a grief,

As white a page as Virtue e'er unroll'd Beyond all hope, all terror, all relief;

Blacken, beneath his touch, into a scroll A dark, cold calm, which nothing now can break,

Of damning sins, seal'd with a burning soulOr warm, or brighten,—like that Syrian Lake,"

This is his triumph; this the joy accurst, l'pon whose surface morn and summer shed

That ranks him, among demons, all but first! Their smiles in vain, for all beneath is dead!

This gives the victim, that before him lies Hearts there have been, o'er which this weight of woe Blighted and lost, a glory in his eyes, Came by long use of suffering, tame and slow;

A light like that with which hell-fire illumes But thine, lost youth! was sudden-over thee

The ghastly, writhing wretch whom it consumes ! It broke at once, when all seem'd ecstacy ; When Hope look'd up, and saw the gloomy Past

But other tasks now wait him-tasks that need Melt into splendour, and Bliss dawn at last- All the deep daringness of thought and deed 'Twas then, er'n then, o'er joys so freshly blown,

With which the Dives have gifted him-for mark, This mortal blight of misery came down;

Over yon plains, which night had else made dark, Ev's then, the full, warm gushings of thy heart Were check'd-like fount-drops, frozen as they start!

1 The ancient Oxus.

2 A city of Transoxiania. I The tecbir, or cry of the Arabs, “ Alla Akbar!" says

3 “You never can cast your eyes on this tree, but you Ockley, means "God is most mighty."

meet there either blossoms or fruit: and as the blossom 2 The ziraleet is a kind of chorus, which the women of drops underneath on the ground, (which is frequently the East sing upon joyful occasions.

covered with those purple-coloured flowers,) others como 3 The Dead Sea, which contains neither animal nor forth in their stead," etc. etc. - Nieuhoff. Fegetable life

4 The Demons of the Persian mythology

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