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Those lanterns, countless as the winged lights Of many a dome and fair-roof”d minaret,
Instant from all who saw th' illusive sign
A murmur broke-“ Miraculous ! divine !"
While he of Moussa's creed, saw, in that ray
The glorious Light which, in his freedom's day
Had rested on the Ark,' and now again
“ To victory!" is at once the cry of allThat, friendless, throneless, he thus stands at bay,
Nor stands MOKanna loitering at that call; E’en thus a match for myriads such as they!
But instant the huge gates are fiung aside, “Oh! for a sweep of that dark angel's wing, Who brush'd the thousands of th’ Assyrian King?
And forth, like a diminutive mountain-tide
Into the boundless sea, they speed their course
Right on into the Moslem s mighty force.
The watchmen of the camp,—who, in their rounds,
Had paus d and een forgot the punctual sounds
Of the small drum with which they count the night,
To gaze upon that supernatural light,-
Now sink beneath an unexpected arm, Sounds, that shall glad me ev'n within my grave."
And in a death-groan give their last alarm. Thus to himself-but to the scanty train
“ On for the lamps, that light yon lofty screen,
Nor blunt your blades with massacre so mean;
There rests the Caliph-speed-one lucky lance
Desperate the die—such as they only cast,
Who venture for a world, and stake their last.
But Fate's no longer with him-blade for blade
Springs up to meet them through the glimmering shade:
And, as the clash is heard, new legions soon
Pour to the spot,-like bees of KAUZEROON
To the shrill timbrel s summons,-till, at length, Warriors, rejoice—the port, to which we've pass'd
The mighty camp swarms out in all its strength, D'er destiny's dark wave, beams out at last !
And back to NekSHEB's gates, covering the plain Victory's our own—'tis written in that Book
With random slaughter, drives the adventurous train, Upon whose leaves none but the angels look,
Among the last of whom, the Silver Veil That Islam's sceptre shall beneath the power
Is seen glittering at times, like the white sail
Of some toss d vessel, on a stormy night,
And hath not this brought the proud spirit low?
Nor dash'd his brow, nor checkd his daring ? No.
Though half the wretches, whom at night he led And they beheld an orb, ample and bright,
To thrones and victory, lie disgrac'd and dead, Rise from the Holy Well, and cast its light
Yet morning hears him, with unshrinking crest, Round the rich city and the plain for miles,&
Still vaunt of thrones, and victory to the rest.
And they believed him !-oh, the lover may
The babe may cease to think that it can play
2. "Sennacherib, called by the orientals King of Mous. The shining gold their crucible gives out; sal."--L'Herbelot.
But Faith, fanatic Faith, once wedded fast 3 Chosroes. For the description of his Throne or Palace, To some dear falsehood, hugs it to the last. see Gibbon and D'Herbclot.
4 "The crown of Gerashid is cloudy and tarnished before
Sale's Note, chap. ii.
vol. ii. p. 119. Nekhscheb en faisant sortir toutes les nuits du fond d'un 3 " The Serrapurda, high screens of red cloth, stiffened puits un corps lumineux semblable à la Lune, qui portait sa with cane, used to inclose a considerable space round the lumière jusqu'à la distance de plusieurs milles." --D'Her- royal tents.”-Notes on the Bahardanush. belot. Hence he was called Sazendehmah, or the Moon- 4 "From the groves of Orange trees at Karizeroon, the maker.
bees cull a celebrated honey."- Morier's Travels
And well th' Impostor knew all lures and arts, Like those wild birds' that by the Magians, oft, That LUCIFER e'er taught to tangle hearts;
At festivals of fire, were sent aloft Nor, ‘mid these last bold workings of his plot Into the air, with blazing faggots tied Against men's souls, is ZELICA forgot.
To their huge wings, scattering combustion wide! III-fated Zelica! had reason been
All night, the groans of wretches who expiru, Awake, through half the horrors thou hast seen, In agony, beneath these darts of fire, Thou never could st have borne it-Death had come Ring through the city-while, descending o'er At once and taken thy wrung spirit home.
lts shrines and domes and streets of sycamore;But 'twas not so—a torpor, a suspense
Its lone bazaars, with their bright cloths of gold, Of thought, almost of life, came o'er th' intense Since the last peaceful pageant left unroll'd;And passionate struggles of that fearful night, Its beauteous marble baths, whose idle jets When her last hope of peace and heav'n took flight : Now gush with blood ;—and its tall minarets, And though, at times, a gleam of frenzy broke,- That late have stood up in the evening glare As through some dull volcano's veil of smoke Of the red sun, unhallow'd by a prayer ;Ominous flashings now and then will start,
O’er each, in turn, the dreadful flame-bolts fall, Which show the fire 's still busy at its heart; And death and conflagration throughout all Yet was she mostly wrapp'd in sullen gloom- The desolate city hold high festival! Not such as Azim's, brooding o'er its doom,
MOKANNA sees the world is his no more ;And calm without, as is the brow of death,
One sting at parting, and his grasp is o'er. While busy worms are gnawing underneath!
What! drooping now ?"—thus, with unblushing But in a blank and pulseless torpor,
cheek, From thought or pain, a seal'd up apathy,
He hails the few, who yet can hear him speak, Which left her oft, with scarce one living thrill, Of all those famish'd slaves, around him lying, The cold, pale victim of her torturer's will.
And by the light of blazing temples dying ;Again, as in Merou, he had her deck'd
“What! drooping now?-How, when at length we Gorgeously out, the Priestess of the sect;
press And led her glittering forth before the eyes
Home o'er the very threshold of success; Of his rude train, as to a sacrifice;
When ALLA from our ranks hath thinn'd away Pallid as she, the young, devoted Bride
Those grosser branches, that kept out his ray Of the fierce Nile, when, deck'd in all the pride Of favour from us, and we stand at length Of nuptial pomp, she sinks into his tide!'
Heirs of his light and children of his strength, And while the wretched maid hung down her head, The chosen few who shall survive the fall And stood, as one just risen from the dead,
Of kings and thrones, triumphant over all! Amid that gazing crowd, the fiend would tell Have you then lost, weak murmurers as you are, His credulous slaves it was some charm or spell
All faith in him, who was your Light, your Star? Possess'd her now,--and from that darken'd trance Have you forgot the eye of glory, hid Should dawn ere long their Faith's deliverance.
Beneath this Veil
, the flashing of whose lid Or if, at times, goaded by guilty shame,
Could, like a sun-stroke of the desert, wither Her soul was rous'd, and words of wildness came,
Millions of such as yonder Chief brings hither ? Instant the bold blasphemer would translate Long have its lightnings slept—too long—but now Her ravings into oracles of fate,
All earth shall feel th' unveiling of this brow!
To-night-yes, sainted men! This very night,
Where, having deep refresh'd each weary limb
With viands such as feast Heaven's cherubim,
And kindled up your souls, now sunk and dim, At mom and eve across the northern plain
With that pure wine the dark-ey'd maids above He looks impatient for the promis'd spears
Keep, seal'd with precious musk, for those they Of the wild hordes and TARTAR mountaineers.
love, ?They come not—while his fierce beleaguerers pour The wonders of this brow's ineffable light;
I will myself uncurtain in your sight Engines of havoc in, unknown before,
Then lead you forth, and with a wink disperse
Yon myriads, howling through the universe !"
New life into their chill'd and hope-sick hearts ;Showers of a consuming fire o'er all below; Such treacherous life as the cool draught supplies Looking, as through th' illumin'd night they go, To him upon the stake, who drinks and dies!
1 " A custom still subsisting at this day, seems to me to 1 "At the great festival of fire, called the Sheb Sozė, prove that the Egyptians formerly sacrificed a young virgin they used to set fire to large buuches of dry combustibles, to the god of the Nile ; for they now make a statue of earth fastened round wild boasts and birds, which being then let in shape of a girl, to which they give the name of the Be- loose, the air and earth appeared one great illumination: lothed Bride, and throw it into the river."-Savary. and as these terrified croatures naturally fled to the wood 2 The Greek fire, which was occasionally lent by the for shelter, it is easy to conceive the conflagrations they Emperors to their allies." It was," says Gibbon, " either produced.” — Richardson's Dissertation. launcbed in red-hot balls of stone and iron, or darted in 2 “The righteous shall be given to drink of pure wine, arrows and javelins, twisted round with flax and tow, which sealed; the seal whereof shall be musk."--Koran, chap bad deeply imbibed the inflammable oil.”
Wildly they point their lances to the light
Upon that toocking Fiend, whose Veil, now rais'd, Of the fast-sinking sun, and shout “to-night !"- Show'd them, as in death's agony they gaz'd, “ To-night," their Chief re-echoes, in a voice Not the long promis d light, the brow, whose beaming Of fiend-like mockery that bids hell rejoice! Was to come forth, all conquering, all redeeming; Deluded victims-never hath this earth
But features horribler than Hell e'er trac'd
Lives in your sapient bosoms, cheat you still ?
Is but the trance with which Heav'n's joys begin; 'Twas more than midnight now-a fearful pause That this foul visage, foul as e'er disgrac d Had follow'd the long shouts, the wild applause,
E'en monstrous man, is-after God's own taste; That lately from those royal gardens burst,
And that—but see !-ere I have balf-way said Where the Veild demon held his feast accurst,
My greetings through, th' uncourteous souls are fled. When ZELICA-alas, poor ruia'd heart
Farewell, sweet spirits! not in vain ye die, In every horror doom'd to bear its part !-
If Ellis loves you half so well as 1,Was bidden to the banquet by a slave,
Ha, my young bride ! -'tis well-take thou thy seat; Who, while his quivering lip the summons gave,
Nay come—no shuddering--didst thou never meet Grew black, as though the shadows of the grave The dead before ?—they grac'd our wedding, sweet; Compass'd him round, and, ere he could repeat
And these, my guests to-night, have brimm d so true His message through, fell lifeless at her feet!
Their parting cups, that thou shalt pledge one too. Shuddering she went-a soul-felt pang of fear, But-how is this ?-all empty ? all drunk up? A presage that her own dark doom was near, Hot lips have been before thee in the cup, Rous'd every feeling, and brought Reason back
Young bride,-yet stay-one precious drop remains, Once more, to writhe her last upon the rack.
Enough to warm a gentle Priestess' veins ;All round seem'd tranquil-e'en the foe had ceas'd, Here, drink—and should thy lover's conquering arme As if aware of that demoniac feast,
Speed hither, ere thy lip lose all its charms, His fiery bolts ; and though the heavens look'd red, Give him but half this venom in thy kiss, 'Twas but some distant conflagration's spread
And I'll forgive my haughty rival's bliss ! But hark !-she stops-she listens---dreadful tone! "Tis her tormentor's laugh-and now, a groan,
“For me- I too must die-but not like these A long death-groan comes with it can this be Vile, rankling things, to fester in the breeze; The place of mirth, the bower of revelry ?
To have this brow in ruffian triumph shown, She enters. Holy Alla, what a sight
With all death's grimness added to its own, Was there before her! By the glimmering light
And rot to dust beneath the taunting eyes, Of the pale dawn, mix'd with the flare of brands Of slaves, exclaiming ‘There his Godship lies !:That round lay burning, dropp'd from lifeless hands, No cursed race--since first my soul drew breath, She saw the board, in splendid mockery spread, They've been my dupes, and shall be, even in death. Rich censers breathing--garlands overhead,- Thou see'st yon cistern in the shade—'tis fill'd The urns, the cups, from which they late had quaff*d, With burning drugs, for this last hour distill’d; All gold and gems, but—what had been the draught? There will I plunge me, in that liquid flameOh! who need ask, that saw those livid guests,
Fit bath to lave a dying Prophet's frame! With their swoll'n heads sunk, blackening, on their There perish, all-ere pulse of thine shall fail-breasts,
Nor leave one limb to tell mankind the tale. Or looking pale to Heaven with glassy glare,
So shall my votaries, wheresoe'er they rave, As if they sought but saw no mercy there;
Proclaim that Heav'n took back the Saint it gave ;As if they felt, though poison rack d them through, That I've but vanish'd from this earth awhile, Remorse the deadlier torment of the two!
To come again, with bright, unshrouded smile!
Where knaves shall minister, and fools shall kneel; Would have met death with transport by his side,
Where Faith may mutter o'er her mystic spell, Here mute and helpless gasp'd ;--but as they died,
Written in blood-and Bigotry may swell Look'd horrible vengeance with their eyes' last strain, The sail he spreads for Heaven with blasts from Hell ! And clench'd the slackening hand at him in vain.
1 "The Afghauns believe each of the numerous solitudes Dreadful it was to see the ghastly stare,
and deserts of their country, to be inhabited by a lonely The stony look of horror and despair,
demon, whom they call the Gboolee Beeabau, or Spirit of Which some of these expiring victims cast
the Waste. They often illustrate the wildness of any se
questered tribe, by saying, they are wild as the Demon o Upon their soul's tormentor to the last ;
the Waste."- Elphinstone's Caubul.
So shall my banner, through long ages, be
| MOKANNA, and alone !" they shout around; The rallying sign of fraud and anarchy ;
Young Azim from his steed springs to the ground-
Eager he darts to meet the demon foe,
“I meant not, Azim,” soothingly she said,
As on his trembling arm she lean'd her head, He sprung and sunk, as the last words were said And, looking in his face, saw anguish there Quick clos'd the burning waters o er his head,
Beyond all wounds the quivering flesh can bear-And ZELICA was left-within the ring
“I meant not thou should'st have the pain of this ;Of those wide walls the only living thing;
Though death, with thee thus tasted, is a bliss The only wretched one, still curst with breath,
Thou would'st not rob me of, didst thou but know In all that frightful wilderness of death!
How oft I've pray'd to God I might die so! More like some bloodless ghost,—such as, they tell, But the Fiend's venom was too scant and slow ;In the lone Cities of the Silent' dwell,
To linger on were maddening--and I thought And there, unseen of all but Alla, sit
If once that Veil-nay, look not on it--caught Each by its own pale carcass, watching it.
The eyes of your fierce soldiery, I should be But morn is up, and a fresh warfare stirs Struck by a thousand death-darts instantly. Throughout the camp of the beleaguerers.
But this is sweeter--oh! believe me, yesTheir globes of fire, (the dread artillery, lent
I would not change this sad, but dear caress, By GREECE to conquering MAHADI,) are spent ;
This death within thy arms I would not give And now the scorpion's shaft, the quarry sent
For the most smiling life the happiest live! From high balistas, and the shielded throng
All, that stood dark and drear before the eye Of soldiers swinging the huge ram along,
Of my stray'd soul, is passing swiftly by ; All speak th' impatient Islamite's intent
A light comes o'er me, from those looks of love, To try, at length, if tower and battlement
Like the first dawn of mercy from above; And bastion'd wall be not less hard to win,
And if thy lips but tell me I'm forgiv'n, Less tough to break down than the hearts within.
Angels will echo the blest words in heaven! First in impatience and in toil is he,
But live, my AZIM;-oh! to call thee mine The burning Azim-oh! could he but see
Thus once again! my Azim—dream divine ! Th' Impostor once alive within his grasp,
Live, if thou ever lov’dst me, if to meet Not the gaunt lion's hug, nor Boa's clasp,
Thy Zelica hereafter would be sweet, Could match the gripe of vengeance, or keep pace
Oh live to pray for her—to bend the knee With the fell heartiness of Hate's embrace !
Morning and night before that Deity,
To whom pure lips and hearts without a stain, Loud rings the pond'rous ram against the walls ;
As thine are, Azim, never breath'd in vain,
And pray that he may pardon her,-may take
And, nought remembering but her love to thee,
Our youthful hearts together-every wind, "Tis done-the battlements come crashing down, That meets thee there, fresh from the well-known And the huge wall, by that stroke riv'n in two,
flowers, Yawning, like some old crater, rent anew,
Will bring the sweetness of those innocent hours
So shall thy orisons, like dew that flies
And should they—but alas ! my senses fail-
If pardon'd souls may from that World of Bliss Forth from the ruin'd walls; and, as there glanc'd Reveal their joy to those they love in this, A sunbeam over it, all eyes could see
I'll come to thee-in some sweet dream-and tellThe well-known Silver Veil!—“'Tis He, 'tis He, Oh heaven-I die-dear love! farewell, farewell."
1 “They have all a great reverence for burial-grounds, Time fleeted-years on years had pass'd away, which they sometimes call by the poetical name of Cities And few of those who, on thit mournful day, of the Silent, and which they people with the ghosts of the departed, who sit each at the head of his own grave, invisi- Had stood, with pity in their eyes, to see blo to mortal eyes."- Elphinstone.
The maiden's death, and the youth's agony,
Were living still-when, by a rustic grave
patched." He then proceeded to analyze the poem, Beside the swift Amoo's transparent wave, in that strain, (so well known to the unfortunate bards An aged man, wno nad grown aged there
of Delhi,) whose censures were an infliction from By that lone grave, morning and night in prayer, which few recovered, and whose very praises were like For the last time knelt down-and, though the shade the honey extracted from the bitter flowers of the of death hung darkening over him, there play'd aloe. The chief personages of the story were, if he A gleam of rapture on his eye and cheek,
rightly understood them, an ill-favoured gentleman, That brighten'd even Death—like the last streak with a veil over his face;-a young lady, whose rea Of intense glory on th' horizon's brim,
son went and came according as it suited the poet's When night o'er all the rest hanga chill and dim. convenience to be sensible or otherwise ;-and a His soul had seen a vision, while he slept;
youth in one of those hideous Bucharian bonnets, She, for whose spirit he had pray'd and wept who took the aforesaid gentleman in a veil for a DiSo many years, had come to him, all drest
vinity. “From such materials," said he, “ what can In angel's smiles, and told him she was blest! be expected ?-after rivalling each other in long For this the old man breath'd his thanks, and died, - speeches and absurdities, through some thousands of And there, upon the banks of that lov'd tide, lines, as indigestible as the filberds of Berdaa, our friend He and his ZELICA sleep side by side.
in the veil jumps into a tub of aquafortis ; the young lady dies in a set speech, whose only recommendation is that it is her last ; and the lover lives on to a good
old age, for the laudable purpose of seeing her ghost,
which he at last happily accomplishes and expires. The story of the Veiled Prophet of Khorassan This, you will allow, is a fair summary of the story; being ended, they were now doomed to hear Fadla. and if Nasser, the Arabian merchant, told no better, DEEN's criticisms upon it. A series of disappoint- our Holy. Prophet (to whom be all honour and glory! ments and accidents had occurred to this learned had no need to be jealous of his abilities for story Chamberlain during the journey. In the first place, telling.". those couriers stationed, as in the reign of Shah With respect to the style, it was worthy of the mat Jehan, between Delhi and the Western coast of ter ;-it had not even those politic contrivances of India, to secure a constant supply of mangoes for the structure, which make up for the commonness of the royal table, had, by some cruel irregularity, failed thoughts by the peculiarity of the manner, nor that in their duty; and to eat any mangoes but those of stately poetical phraseology by which sentiments, Mazagong was, of course, impossible. In the next mean in themselves, like the blacksmith's? apron place, the elephant, laden with his fine antique porce-converted into a banner, are so easily gilt and emlain, had, in an unusual fit of liveliness, shattered the broidered into consequence. Then, as to the versifiwhole set to pieces :
:-an irreparable loss, as many of cation, it was, to say no worse of it, execrable: it had the vessels were so exquisitely old as to have been neither the copious flow of Ferdosi, the sweetness of used under the Emperors Yan and Chun, who reigned Hafez, nor the sententious march of Sadi• but apmany ages before the dynasty of Tang. His Koran peared to him, in the uneasy heaviness of its move. too, supposed to be the identical copy between the ments, to have been modelled upon the gait of a very leaves of which Mahomet's favourite pigeon used to tired dromedary. The licenses too in which it in. nestle, had been mislaid by his Koran-bearer three dulged were unpardonable;—for instance this line, and whole days; not without much spiritual alarm to the poem abounded with such ;FADLADEEN, who, though professing to hold, with Like the faint, exquisite music of a dream. other loyal and orthodox Mussulmans, that salvation could only be found in the Koran, was strongly sus
What critic that can count," said FadLADEEN, pected of believing in his heart, that it could only be" and has his full complement of fingers to count found in his own particular copy of it. When to all withal, would tolerate for an instant such syllabic suthese grievances is added the obstinacy of the cooks, perfluities ?"—He here looked round and discovered in putting the pepper of Canara into his dishes in that most of his audience were asleep; while the stead of the cinnamon of Serendib, we may easily glimmering lamps seemed inclined to follow their suppose that he came to the task of criticism with, at example. It became necessary, therefore, however least, a sufficient degree of irritability for the purpose. painful to himself
, to put an end to his valuable ani " In order," said he, importantly swinging about his madversions for the present, and he accordingly conchaplet of pearls, “to convey with clearness my cluded, with an air of dignified candour, thus : “ Notopinion of the story this young man has related, it is withstanding the observations which I have thought necessary to take a review of all the stories that have it my duty to make, it is by no means my wish to disever—“My good FADLADEEN !” exclaimed the Prin- courage the young man: so far from it, indeed, that cess, interrupting him, “ we really do not deserve that if he will but totally alter his style of writing and you should give yourself so much trouble. Your opinion of the poem we have just heard, will, I have 1 La lecture de ces Fables plairait si fort aux Arabes, no doubt, be abundantly edifying, without any further que, quand Mahomet les entretenait de l'Histoire de l'An
cien Testament, ils les méprisaient, lui disant que celles waste of your valuable erudition.” “If that be all," quo Nasser leur racontait étaient beaucoup plus belles. replied the critic,-evidently mortified at not being Cette preference attira à Nasser la malédiction de Mahomet allowed to show how much he knew about every
et de tous ses disciples.--D'Herbelot. thing but the subject immediately before him—“ If tyrant Zuhak, and whose apron became the Royal S'andard
2 The blacksmith Gao, who successfully resisted the that be all that is required, the matter is easily des- of Persia.