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Beneath that fresh and springing bower,
Close by the lake, she heard the moan
Forgets the Koran in his Mary's smile;
And as she listen'd to the springs Then beckons some kind angel from above
Of life within, like music tlowing, With a new text to consecrate their love!
And caught the light upon her wings
Through the half-open portal glowing,
She wept to think her recreant race
Should e'er have lost that glorious place!
Mid flowers that never shall fade or fall;
Though mine are the gardens of earth and sea, Some hand hath check'd the flying Moslems' rout,
And the stars themselves bave flowers for me,
One blossom of Heaven out-blooms them all!
Though sunny the lake of cool Cashmere,
With its plane-tree isle reflected clear, Bold as if gifted with ten thousand lives,
And sweetly the founts of that valley fall; Turns on the fierce pursuers' blades, and drives
Though bright are the waters of Sing-su-hay, At once the multitudinous torrent back,
And the golden floods, that thitherward stray, While hope and courage kindle in his track,
Yet---oh 'tis only the blest can say
How the waters of heaven outshine them all!
“ Go, wing thy flight from star to star, Stands, like the red moon, on some stormy night,
From world to luminous world, as far Among the fugitive clouds that, hurrying by,
As the universe spreads its flaming wall; Leave only her unshaken in the sky!
Take all the pleasures of all the spheres, In vain he yells his desperate curses out,
And multiply each through endless years,
One minute of Heaven is worth them all!”.
The glorious angel, who was keeping
The gates of light, bebeld her weeping; The panic spreads—“ a miracle!" throughout
And, as he nearer drew and listen'd The Moslem ranks, " a miracle!" they shout,
To her sad song, a tear-drop glisten'd All gazing on that youth, whose coming seems
Within his eyelids, like the spray A light, a glory, such as breaks in dreams;
From Eden's fountain, when it lies And every sword, true as o'er billows dim
On the blue flow'r, which---Bramins say--The needle tracks the load-star, following him!
Blooms no where but in Paradise ! Right tow'rds Mokanna now he cleaves his path,
Nymph of a fair, but erring line!” Impatient cleaves, as though the bolt of wrath
Gently he said---“ One hope is thine. He bears from Heav'n withheld its awful burst
'Tis written in the book of fate, From weaker heads, and souls but half-way curst,
• The Peri yet may be forgiven To break o'er him, the mightiest and the worst!
Who brings to this eternal gate But vain his speed---though, in that hour of blood,
The gift that is most dear to Heaven!' Had all God's seraphs round Mokanna stood,
Go, seek it, and redeem thy sin ;---
'Tis sweet to let the pardon'd in!"
Rapidly as comets run
And, lighted earthward by a glance
THE PERI. One morn a Peri at the gate Of Eden stood, disconsolate;
Of one who, at this silent hour,
Nay, turn not from me that dear face... Had thither stol'n to die alone:
Am I not thine---thy own lov'd bride--One who in life, where'er he mov'd,
the chosen one, whose place Drew after him the hearts of many;
In life or death is by thy side? Yet now, as though he ne'er were lov’d,
Think'st thou that she, whose only light, Dies here, unseen, unwept by any!
In this dim world, from thee hath shone, None to watch near him---none to slake
Could bear the long, the cheerless night, The fire that in his bosom lies,
That must be hers, when thou art gone? With ev'o a sprinkle from that lake,
That I can live, and let thee go,
Who art my life itself?---No, no---
Out of its heart must perish too!
Then turn to me, my own love, turn, Is still like distant music heard:
Before like thee I fade and burn; That tender farewell on the shore
Cling to these yet cool lips, and share Of this rude world, when all is o'er,
The last pure life that lingers there !" Which cheers the spirit, ere its bark
She fails---she sinks---as dies the lamp Puts off into the unknown dark.
In charnel airs or cavern-damp,
So quickly do his baleful sighs Deserted youth! one thought alone
Quench all the sweet light of her eyes! Shed joy around his soul in death--
One struggle---and his pain is past--That she, whom he for years had known,
Her lover is no longer living! 5. And lov’d, and might have call'd his own,
One kiss the maiden gives, one last, Was safe from this foul midnight's breath ;--- Long kiss, which she expires in giving! 1. Safe in her father's princely halls, i Where the cool airs from fountain-falls,
“ Sleep," said the Peri, as softly she stole Freshly perfum’d by many a brand
The farewell sigh of that vanishing soul, Of the sweet wood from India's land,
As true as e'er warm'd a woman's breast--
“ Sleep on, in visions of odour rest, Were pure as she whose brow they fann'd.
In balmier airs than ever yet stirr'd
Th'enchanted pile of that lonely bird, But see,---who yonder comes by stealth,
Who sings at the last his own death lay, This melancholy bower to seek,
And in music and perfume dies away!”. - Like a young envoy, sent by health, With rosy gifts upon her cheek?
Thus saying, from her lips she spread 'Tis she---far off, through moonlight dim,
Unearthly breathings through the place, He knew his own betrothed bride,
And shook her sparkling wreath, and shed She, who would rather die with him,
Such Justre o'er each paly face, Than live to gain the world beside!-
That like two lovely saints they seemd Her arms are round her lover now,
Upon the eve of dooms-clay taken His livid cheek to hers she presses,
From their dim graves, in odour sleeping ;--And dips, to bind his burning brow,
While that benevolent Peri beam'd In the cool lake her loosen'd tresses.
Like their good angel, calmly keeping Ah! once, how little did he think
Watch o'er them, till their souls would waken! An hour would come, when he should shrink
But morn is blushing in the sky; With horror from that dear embrace,
Again the Peri soars above, Those gentle arms, that were to him
Bearing to Heav’n that precious sigh
Of pure, self-sacrificing love.
High throbb'd her heart, with hope elate,
The Elysian palm she soon shall win,
For the bright Spirit at the gate
Smil'd as she gave that offering in;
And she already hears the trees
Of Eden, with their crystal bells Near his unask'd or without shame.
Ringing in that ambrosial breeze “ Oh! let me only breathe the air,
That from the throne of Alla swells;
And she can see the starry bowls
That lie around that lucid lake,
Upon whose banks admitted souls
Their first sweet draught of glory take!
But ah! ev'n Peri's hopes are vain---
Again the Fates forbade, again
Ardh Reclin O'erne Few Norld Nort
Oh 'twas a sight---that Heav'n---that child-
For glories lost and peace gone by!
Th' immortal barrier clos'd---" not yet,"
Cheer'd by this hope she bends her thither ;--The angel said as, with regret,
Still laughs the radiant eye of Heaven, He shut from her that glimpse of glory--
Nor have the golden bowers of even “ True was the maiden, and her story,
In the rich west begun to wither;--Written in light o'er Alla's head,
When, o'er the vale of Balbec winging By seraph eyes shall long be read.
Slowly, she sees a child at play, But, Peri, see---the crystal bar
Among the rosy wild-flowers singing, Of Eden moves not---holier far
and as wild as they; Than ev’n this sigh the boon must be
Chasing, with eager hands and eyes,
The beautiful blue damsel-flies,
That flutter'd round the jasmine stems,
Like winged flowers or flying gems :---
And, near the boy, who tir’d with play
Now nestling mid the roses lay, Hangs over sainted Lebanon ;
She saw a wearied man dismount Whose head in wintry grandeur towers,
From his hot steed, and on the brink And whitens with eternal sleet,
Of a small imaret's rustic fount While summer, in a vale of flowers,
Impatient fling him down to drink. Is sleeping rosy at his feet.
Then swift his haggard brow he turn'd To one, who look'd from upper air
To the fair child, who fearless sat, O'er all the enchanted regions there,
Though never yet hath day-beam burn'd How beauteous must have been the glow,
Upon a brow more fierce than that,--The life, the sparkling from below!
Sullenly fierce---a mixture dire, Fair gardens, shining streams, with ranks
Like thunder-clouds, of gloom and fire! Of golden melons on their banks,
In which the Peri's eye could read More golden where the sun-light falls;--
Dark tales of many a ruthless deed; Gay lizards, glittering on the walls
The ruin'd maid---the shrine profan'd--Of ruin'd shrines, busy and bright
Oaths broken---and the threshold stain'd As they were all alive with light;--
With blood of guests !---there written, all, And, yet more splendid, numerous flocks
Black as the damning drops that fall
From the denouncing angel's pen,
Ere Mercy weeps them out again!
Yet tranquil now that man of crime, Of the warm west,---as if inlaid
(As if the balmy evening time With brilliants from the mine, or made
Soften’d his spirit,) look'd and lay, Of tearless rainbows, such as span
Watching the rosy infant's play:-The' unclouded skies of Peristan!
Though still, whene'er his eye by chance And then, the mingling sounds that come,
Fell on the boy's, its lurid glance Of shepherd's ancient reed, with hum
Met that unclouded, joyous gaze,
As torches, that have burnt all night
And woods, so full of nightingales!
Flinging their shadows from on high,
Had rais'd to count his ages by!
Beneath those chambers of the sun,
With the great name of Solomon,
An erring spirit to the skies!
Through some impure and godless rite,
Encounter morning's glorious rays.
As slow the orb of day-light sets,
From Syria's thousand minarets!
Kneels, with his forehead to the south,
From purity's own cherub-mouth,
Ev'n haughty Eblis of a sigh
And how felt he, the wretched man
To the lote-tree, springing by Alla's throne,
Whose flowers have a soul in every leaf!
Joy, joy for ever!-my task is done
The gates are pass'd, and Heav'n is won!"
THE RETREAT OF THE FIRE-
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,
A ruin'd temple tower'd, so high
That oft the sleeping albatross
Struck the wild ruins with her wing,
And from her cloud-rock'd slumbering
Started—to find man's dwelling there
In her own silent fields of air!
Beneath, terrific caverus gave
Dark welcome to each stormy wave
That dash'd, like midnight revellers, in ;-
And such the strange, mysterious din
At times throughout those caverns rollid,
And such the fearful wonders told
Of restless sprites imprison'd there,
That bold were Moslem, who would dare,
At twilight hour, to steer his skiff
Beneath the Gheber's lonely cliff.
On the land side, those towers sublime,
That seem'd above the grasp of time,
Were sever'd from the baunts of men
By a wide, deep, and wizard glen,
So fathomless, so full of gloom,
No eye could pierce the void between;
It seem'd a place where Gholes might come
With their foul banquets from the tomb,
And in its caverns feed unseen.
Like distant thunder from below,
The sound of many torrents came;
Too deep for eye or ear to know
If'twere the sea's imprison'd flow,
Or floods of ever-restless flame.
For each ravine, each rocky spire
Of that vast mountain stood on fire;
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
Fly Int Thc Yet
GO WHERE GLORY WAITS THEL.
His little army's last remains ;
And though so wild and desolate “ Welcome, terrific glen!” he said,
Those courts, where once the mighty sate; • Thy gloom, that Eblis' self might dread,
Nor longer on those mouldering towers Is Heav'n to him who fies from chains!”
Was seen the feast of fruits and flowers, O'er a dark, narrow bridge-way, known
With which of old the Magi fed To him and to his chiefs alone,
The wandering spirits of their dead; They cross'd the chasm, and gain'd the towers ; Though neither priest nor rites were there, “ This home," he cried, « at least is ours
Nor charmed leaf of pure pomegranate; Here we may bleed, unmock'd by hymns
Nor hymn, nor censer's fragrant air, Of Moslem triumph o'er our head;
Nor symbol of their worshipp'd planet; Here we may fall, nor leave our limbs
Yet the same God that heard their sires To quiver to the Moslem's tread.
Heard them, while on that altar's fires Stretch'd on this rock, while vultures' beaks
They swore the latest, holiest deed Are whetted on our yet warm cheeks,
Of the few hearts, still left to bleed, Here,,happy that no tyrant's eye
Should be, in Iran's injured name, Gloats on our torments--we may die!"
To die upon that Mount of Flame
The last of all her patriot line,
Air-Maid of the Valley,
Go where glory waits thee; A wretch, who takes his lusts to heaven,
But, while fame elates thee, And makes a pander of his God!
Oh! still remember me. If her proud sons, her high-born souls,
When the praise thou meetest Men in whose veins-oh last disgrace!
To thine ear is sweetest, The blood of Zal and Rustam rolls,
Oh! then remember me. If they will court this upstart race,
Other arms may press thee, And turn from Mithra's ancient ray,
Dearer friends caress thee, To kneel at shrines of yesterday!
All the joys that bless thee If they will crouch to Iran's foes,
Sweeter far may be; Why, let them-till the land's despair
But when friends are nearest, Cries out to heav'n, and bondage grows
And when joys are dearest,
Oh! then remember me.
When, at eve, thou rovest
By the star thou lovest,
Oh! then remember me.
This spot, at least, no foot of slave
When thine eye reposes
Think, when home returning,
Oh! then remember me.
On its ling’ring roses,
Once so loved by thee:
Oh! then remember me.
When, around thee, dying,
Oh! then remember me.
Oh! still remember me.
Draw one tear from thee;
His chiefs stood round-each shining blade