By the holiest name of God, Had Thalaba disarm'd the evil race. XIII. Baffled and weary, and convinced at length, Anger, and fear, and rancour gnawing him, The accursed Sorcerer ceas'd his vain attempts, Content perforce to wait Temptation's likelier aid. Restless he lay, and brooding many a wile, And tortur'd with impatient hope, And envying with the bitterness of hate The innocent youth, who slept so sweetly by. XIV. The ray of morning on his eye-lids fell, And folded his mantle around him, And with the outward forms Of righteousness and prayer insulted God. Then on the road, while yet the morn was young, With various talk beguiling the long way. But soon the youth, whose busy mind Dwelt on Lobaba's wonder-stirring words, Renew'd the unfinish'd converse of the night. LOBABA. Was Solomon Accurst of God? yet to his talismans Obedient, o'er his throne the birds of Heaven, Their waving wings his sun-shield, 7 fann'd around him The motionless air of noon; from place to place, As his will rein'd the viewless Element, He rode the Wind; the Genii reared his temple, And ceaselessly in fear while his dead eye O'erlook'd them, day and night pursued their toil, So dreadful was his power. THALABA. But 't was from Heaven His wisdom came; God's special gift,-the guerdon Of early virtue. LOBABA. Learn thou, O young man! God hath appointed Wisdom the reward Of study! "T is a well of living waters, Whose inexhaustible bounties all might drink, But few dig deep enough. Son! thou art silent,— Perhaps I say too much,-perhaps offend thee. THALABA. Nay, I am young, and willingly, as becomes me, Hear the wise words of age. LOBABA. Is it a crime To mount the horse, because forsooth thy feet Can serve thee for the journey?—is it sin, Because the Hern soars upward in the sky Above the arrow's flight, to train the Falcon Whose beak shall pierce him there? The powers which Allah Grauted to man, were granted for his use; He knew not where to turn his face in prayer. « What shall we do?» Lobaba cried, « The lights of Heaven have ceas'd To guide us on our way: Should we remain and wait More favourable skies, Soon would our food and water fail us here! And if we venture on, There are the dangers of the wilderness!»> « Sure it were best proceed!» The chosen youth replies, << So haply we may reach some tent, or grove Of dates, or station'd tribe; But idly to remain, Were yielding effortless, and waiting death.»> Elate of heart, he leads the credulous youth. XIX. Still o'er the wilderness Settled the moveless mist. The timid Antelope, that heard their steps, Stood doubtful where to turn in that dim light; The Ostrich, blindly hastening, met them full. At night, again in hope, Young Thalaba laid down; The morning came, and not one guiding ray Through the thick mist was visible, The same deep moveless mist that mantled all. Oh for the Vulture's scream, Who haunts for prey the abode of humankind! Oh for the Plover's pleasant cry? To tell of water near! Oh for the Camel-driver's song!10 For now the water-skin grows light, Though of the draught, more eagerly desir'd, Imperious prudence took with sparing thirst. Oft from the third night's broken sleep, As in his dreams he heard The sound of rushing winds, Started the anxious youth, and look'd abroad, In vain! for still the deadly calm endur'd. Another day pass'd on; The water skin was drain'd; But then one hope arriv'd, That scatter'd the thick mist, And lo! at length the lovely face of Heaven! Was open'd on their view. They look'd around, no wells were near, Flat on the Camel lay the water-skin, In the merry month of May! Gaze on each other with hope-brighten'd eyes, For sure through that green meadow flows The living stream! and lo! their famish'd beast Sees the restoring sight! Hope gives his feeble limbs a sudden strength, He burries on! . . . The herbs so fair to eye Were Senna, and the Gentian's blossom blue; And kindred plants, that with unwater'd root Fed in the burning sand, whose bitter leaves Even frantic Famine loath'd." XXI. In uncommunicating misery Silent they stood. At length Lobaba cried, Son, we must slay the Camel, or we die For lack of water! thy young hand is firm,.. Draw forth the knife and pierce him!» Wretch accurst! Who that beheld thy venerable face, Thy features fix'd with suffering, the dry lips, The feverish eyes, could deem that all within Was magic ease, and fearlessness secure, And wiles of hellish import? The young man Paus'd with reluctant pity: but he saw His comrade's red and painful countenance, And his own burning breath came short and quick, And at his feet the gasping beast Lies, over-worn with want. Then from his girdle Thalaba took the knife12 << It is a stone that whoso bears, And bid them in his name that here is written XXIV. Nay!» answer'd Thalaba, << Shall I distrust the providence of God? Is it not he must save? If Allah wills it not, XXV. Whilst he spake, Lobaba's eye, Like obelisks of fire, They rush'd before the driving wind. They had not hop'd escape, Gives to the tranquil air a drowning force. XXVI. High.. high in heaven upcurl'd The dreadful sand-spouts mov'd,'7 Swift as the whirlwind that impell'd their way, They rush'd toward the travellers! The old Magician shriek'd, And lo! the foremost bursts, Before the whirlwind's force, Scattering afar a burning shower of sand. «Now by the virtue of the Ring, Save us!» Lobaba cried. << While thou hast the power, Save us! O save us! now!» The youth made no reply, Gazing in awful wonder on the scene. XXVII. Why dost thou wait?» the Old Man exclaim'd « If Allah and the Prophet will not save, Call on the Powers that will!» XXVIII. << Ha! do I know thee, Infidel accurst?»> Exclaim'd the awaken'd youth. « And thou hast led me hither, Child of Sin! That fear might make me sell My soul to endless death!» XXIX. « Fool that thou art!» Lobaba cried, Or die the death thy foolishness deserves!» XXX. << Servant of Hell! die thou!» quoth Thalaba. And leaning on his bow The mother bird had mov'd not, Retiring from that hostile shape Not all he took, but in the large nest left And journeying onward, blest the Carrier Bird, Their common Father, provident for all. V. With strength renew'd, and confident in faith, Till after the long toil of many a day, The City of his search. He hastening to the gate, Roams o'er the city with insatiate eyes ; Its thousand dwellings, o'er whose level roofs Fair cupolas appear'd, and high-domed mosques, And pointed minarets, and cypress groves, Every where scatter'd 2 in unwithering green. VI. Thou too art fallen, Bagdad! City of Peace,3 Thou too hast had thy day, And loathsome Ignorance, and brute Servitude, Pollute thy dwellings now, Erst for the Mighty and the Wise renown'd. O yet illustrious for remember'd fame, Thy founder the Victorious, 4 and the pomp Of Haroun, for whose name by blood defil'd, Yahia's, and the blameless Barmecides', Genius hath wrought salvation; and the years When Science with the good Al-Maimon dwelt; So one day may the Crescent from thy Mosques Be pluck'd by Wisdom, when the enlighten'd arm Of Europe conquers to redeem the East! Once from her lofty walls the Charioteer,10 Look'd down on swarming myriads; once she flung Her arches o'er Euphrates' conquer'd tide, And through her brazen portals when she pour'd Her armies forth, the distant nations look'd As men who watch the thunder-cloud in fear Lest it should burst above them. She was fallen, The Queen of Cities, Babylon, was fallen, Low lay her bulwark; the black Scorpion bask'd In the palace courts; within the sanctuary The She-Wolf hid her whelps. Is yonder huge and shapeless heap, what once Hath been the aerial Gardens," height on height Rising like Media's mountains crown'd with wood, The wandering Arab never sets his tent Reclin'd against a column's broken shaft, A Warrior in the moon-beam drawing near. « And who art thou,»> he cried, << That at an hour like this A way-bewilder'd traveller, seekest thou Or comest thou to hide The plunder of the night? Or hast thou spells to make These ruins, yawning from their rooted base, Disclose their secret wealth ?» 14 |