'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, With all the glories of the dead, Though fram'd for IRAN's happiest years, Like shrubs beneath the poison-blast No 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! Of KERMAN, in that deathful hour, Against AL HASSAN'S whelming power.— In vain they met him, helm to helm, There stood - but one short league away From old HARMOZIA'S sultry bay A rocky mountain, o'er the Sea Of OMAN beetling awfully. 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, That oft the sleeping albatross' Dark welcome to each stormy wave And such the fearful wonders told On the land side, those towers sublime, By a wide, deep, and wizard glen, These birds sleep in the air. They are most common about the Cape of Good Hope. P So fathomless, so full of gloom, No eye could pierce the void between ; Too deep for eye or ear to know Or floods of ever-restless flame. 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; 2 The Ghebers generally built their temples over subterraneous fires. "Welcome, terrific glen!" he said, "Thy gloom, that Eblis' self might dread, They cross'd the chasm and gain'd the towers; "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. "Stretch'd on this rock, while vultures' beaks "Are whetted on our yet warm cheeks, "Here, happy that no tyrant's eye "Gloats on our torments-we may die !" "Twas night when to those towers they came, And gloomily the fitful flame, That from the ruin'd altar broke, Glar'd on his features, as he spoke : ""Tis o'er - what men could do, we've done "If IRAN will look tamely on, "And see her priests, her warriors driven "Before a sensual bigot's nod, |