The jackal's cry-the distant moan Of torrents in the glen beneath, To gaze on those terrific things She now but blindly hears, would be Since never yet was shape so dread, But Fancy, thus in darkness thrown, And by such sounds of horror fed, Could frame more dreadful of her own. But does she dream? has Fear again Come from the gloom, low whispering near"Tremble not, love, thy Gheber 's here?" She does not dream-all sense, all ear, She drinks the words, "Thy Gheber's here." 'Twas his own voice- she could not err Throughout the breathing world's extent There was but one such voice for her, So kind, so soft, so eloquent! Oh, sooner shall the rose of May Mistake her own sweet nightingale, Though blest, 'mid all her ills, to think How shall the ruthless HAFED brook And their fair land a wilderness ! "Save him, my God!" she inly cries- "Of sinners' hearts-guard him this night, "And here, before thy throne, I swear "From my heart's inmost core to tear "Love, hope, remembrance, though they be "Link'd with each quivering life-string there, "And give it bleeding all to Thee! "Let him but live, the burning tear, "The sighs so sinful, yet so dear, "Which have been all too much his own, "Shall from this hour be Heaven's alone. "That wastes me now-nor shall his name "Ere bless my lips, but when I pray "For his dear spirit, that away "Casting from its angelic ray "The' eclipse of earth, he, too, may shine "Redeem'd, all glorious and all Thine! "Think-think what victory to win "One radiant soul like his from sin,"One wandering star of virtue back "To its own native, heaven-ward track! "Let him but live, and both are Thine, "Together thine-for, blest or crost, "Living or dead, his doom is mine, "And, if he perish, both are lost!" THE next evening LALLA ROOKн was entreated by her Ladies to continue the relation of her wonderful dream; but the fearful interest that hung round the fate of HINDA and her lover had completely removed every trace of it from her mind ;-much to the disappointment of a fair seer or two in her train, who prided themselves on their skill in interpreting visions, and who had already remarked, as an unlucky omen, that the Princess, on the very morning after the dream, had worn a silk dyed with the blossoms of the sorrowful tree, Nilica. 284 FADLADEEN, whose indignation had more than once broken out during the recital of some parts of this heterodox poem, seemed at length to have made up his mind to the infliction; and took his seat this evening with all the patience of a martyr, while the Poet resumed his profane and seditious story as follows. To tearless eyes and hearts at ease "Twas stillness all the winds that late Had rush'd through KERMAN's almond groves, And shaken from her bowers of date That cooling feast the traveller loves, 285 Now lull'd to languor, scarcely curl The Green Sea wave, whose waters gleam Were melted all to form the stream: But vainly did those glories burst |