Giddily, giddily, still she whirls,

Loudly, incessantly, still she calls;
The motion is ever the same,
Ever around and around;
The calling is still the same,
Still it is, Eblis! Eblis!»
And her voice is a shapeless yell,

And dizzily rolls her brain,
And now she is full of the Fiend.
She stops, she rocks, she reels!
Look! look! she appears in the darkness!
Her flamy hairs curl up

All living, like the Meteor's locks of light! Her eyes are like the sickly Moon!

VIII.

It is her lips that move,

Her tongue that shapes the sound, But whose is the Voice that proceeds!... Ye may hope and ye may fear, The danger of his stars is near. Sultan! if he perish, woe!

Fate bath written one death-blow
For Mohareb and the Foe!

Triumph! triumph! only she

That knit his bonds can set him free. »

IX.

She spake the Oracle,
And senselessly she fell.
They knelt in care beside her,..

Her Sister and the King;

They sprinkled her palms with water, They wetted her nostrils with blood.

X.

She wakes as from a dream,

She asks the uttered Voice; But when she heard, an anger and a grief Darken'd her wrinkling brow. Then let him live in long captivity! She answer'd: but Mohareb's quicken'd eye Perus'd her sullen countenance,

That lied not with the lips.

A miserable man!

What boots it, that, in central caves, The Powers of Evil at his Baptism pledg'd The Sacrament of Hell?

His death secures them now.
What boots it that they gave
Abdaldar's guardian ring,
When, through another's life,
The blow may reach his own?

XI.

He sought the dungeon cell
Where Thalaba was laid.

'T was the grey morning twilight, and the voice Of Thalaba in prayer,

With words of hallow'd import, smote
The King's alarmed sense.

The grating of the heavy hinge
Rous'd not the Arabian youth;
Nor lifted he his earthward face,
At sound of coming feet.
Nor did Mohareb with unholy voice
Disturb the duty: silent, spirit-aw'd,
Envious, heart-humbled, he beheld
The dungeon-peace of piety;
Till Thalaba, the perfect rite performed,
Rais'd his calm eye; then spake the Island-Chief,
<< Arab! my guidance through the dangerous Cave,
Thy service overpaid,

An unintended friend in enmity.
The hand, that caught thy ring,

Receiv'd, and bore me to the scene I sought,
Now know me grateful. I return

That amulet, thy only safety here.»>

Thus he began. « Brave art thou, Thalaba! And wherefore are we foes?..for I would buy Thy friendship at a princely price, and make thee To thine own welfare wise.

Hear me in Nature are two hostile Gods,

Makers and Masters of existing things,
Equal in power: . . nay, hear me patiently!..
Equal.. for look around thee! the same Earth
Bears fruit and poison; where the Camel finds
His fragrant food, the horned Viper there 1
Sucks in the juice of death the Elements
Now serve the use of man, and now assert
Dominion o'er his weakness: dost thou hear
The sound of merriment and nuptial song?
From the next house proceeds the mourner's cry,
Lamenting o'er the dead. Sayest thou that sin
Enter'd the world of Allah? that the Fiend,
Permitted for a season, prowls for prey?
When to thy tent the venomous serpent creeps,
Dost thou not crush the reptile? even so,
Be sure, had Allah crush'd his Enemy,
But that the power was wanting. From the first,
Eternal as themselves their warfare is;
To the end it must endure. Evil and Good..
What are they, Thalaba, but words? in the strife
Of Angels, as of men, the weak are guilty;
Power must decide. The Spirits of the Dead
Quitting their mortal mansion, enter not,
As falsely ye are preach'd, their final seat
Of bliss, or bale; nor in the sepulchre

Sleep they the long long sleep each joins the host
Of his great Leader, aiding in the war
Whose fate involves his own.
Woe to the vanquish'd then!
Woe to the sons of man who followed him!
They, with their Leader, through eternity,
Must howl in central fires.

Thou, Thalaba, hast chosen ill thy part,
If choice it may be call'd, where will was not,
Nor searching doubt, nor judgment wise to weigh.
Hard is the service of the Power, beneath
Whose banners thou wert born; his discipline
Severe, yea cruel; and his wages, rich
Ouly in promise; who hath seen the pay?
For us.. the pleasures of the world are ours,
Riches and rule, the kingdoms of the Earth.
We met in Babylon adventurers both,
Each zealous for the hostile Power he serv'd:
We meet again; thou feelest what thou art,
Thou seest what I am, the Sultan here,
The Lord of Life and Death.
Abandon him who has abandon'd thee,
And be, as I am, great among mankind!»

XIV.

The Captive did not, hasty to confute,
Break off that subtle speech;

But when the expectant silence of the King
Look'd for his answer, then spake Thalaba.
And this then is thy faith! this monstrous creed!
This lie against the Sun, and Moon, and Stars,
And Earth, and Heaven! blind man, who canst not see
How all things work the best! who wilt not know,
That in the Manhood of the World, whate'er
Of folly mark'd its Infancy, of vice
Sullied its Youth, ripe Wisdom shall cast off,

'Stablish'd in good, and, knowing evil, safe. Sultan Mohareb, yes, ye have me here In chains; but not forsaken though opprest; Cast down, but not destroy'd. Shall danger daunt, Shall death dismay his soul, whose life is given For God, and for his brethren of mankind? Alike rewarded, in that noble cause, The Conqueror's and the Martyr's palm above Beam with one glory. Hope ye that my blood Can quench the dreaded flame! and know ye not, That leagued against ye are the Just and Wise, And all Good Actions of all ages past, Yea, your own Crimes, and Truth, and God in Heaven.»>

And now the dogs are nigh!
How his heart pants! you see

The panting of his heart;

And tears like human tears

Roll down, along the big veins, fever-swoln; And now the death-sweat darkens his dun hide; 3 His fears, his groans, his agony, his death, Are the sport, and the joy, and the triumph!

XIX.

Halloa! another prey,

The nimble Antelope!

The ounce is freed; one spring,

4

And his talons are sheath'd in her shoulders, And his teeth are red in her gore.

There came a sound from the wood, Like the howl of the winter wind at night, Around a lonely dwelling;

The ounce, whose gums were warm in his prey, He hears the summoning sound.

In vain his master's voice,

No longer dreaded now,

Calls and recalls with threatful tone.
Away to the forest he goes,
For that Old Woman had laid
Her shrivell'd finger on her shrivell'd lips,
And whistled with a long, long breath;
And that long breath was the sound
Like the howl of the winter wind at night,
Around a lonely dwelling.

XXIX.

Cold, marble-cold, the wax

Lay on the raging pile,

Cold in that white intensity of fire. The Bat, that with her hook'd and leathery wings Clung to the cave-roof, loos'd her hold, Death-sickening with the heat;

The Toad, who to the darkest nook had crawl'd, Panted fast with fever-pain;

The Viper from her nest came forth,

Leading her quicken'd brood,

Who, sportive with the warm delight, roll'd out Their thin curls, tender as the tendril rings, Ere the green beauty of their brittle youth Grows brown, and toughens in the summer sun. Cold, marble-cold, the wax

Lay on the raging pile,

The silver quivering of the element O'er its pale surface shedding a dim gloss.

XXX.

Amid the red and fiery smoke,
Watching the strange portent,

The blue-eyed Sorceress and her Sister stood,
Seeming a ruined Angel by the side
Of Spirit born in hell.

Maimuna rais'd at length her thoughtful eyes,
"Whence Sister was the wax,

The work of the worm, or the bee?
Nay then I marvel not!

It were as wise to bring from Ararat
The fore-world's wood to build the magic pile, 10
And feed it from the balm bower, through whose veins
The Martyr's blood sends such a virtue out,
That the fond mother from beneath its shade,
Wreathes the Cerastes round her playful child, "*
This is the eternal, universal strife!
There is a Grave-wax,-I have seen the Gouls 12
Fight for the dainty at their banquetting.»—

XXXI.

Excellent witch!» quoth Khawla! and she went To the cave-arch of entrance, and scowl'd up, Mocking the blessed Sun,

Shine thou in Heaven, but I will shadow Earth! Thou wilt not shorten day,

But I will hasten darkness!» Then the Witch Began a magic song,

One long low tone, through teeth half-clos'd, Through lips slow-moving, muttered slow, One long-continued breath,

Till to her eyes a darker yellowness

Was driven, and fuller-swoln the prominent veins
On her loose throat grew black.
Then looking upward, thrice she breathi'd
Into the face of Heaven;

The baneful breath infected Heaven;
A mildewing mist, it spread

Darker and darker; so the evening sun
Pour'd his unentering glory on the mist,
And it was night below.

XXXII.

Bring now the wax,» quoth Khawla, « for thou know'st The mine that yields it;» forth went Maimuna,

In mist and darkness went the Sorceress forth.

And she hath reach'd the place of Tombs,
And in their sepulchres the dead
Feel feet unholy trampling over them. 13

XXXIII.

Thou startest, Maimuna, Because the breeze is in thy lifted locks! Is Khawla's spell so weak?

Sudden came the breeze, and strong; The mist that in the labouring lungs was felt So heavy late, flies now before the gale, Thin as an infant's breath,

Seen in the sunshine of an autumn frost. Sudden it came, and soon its work was done, And suddenly it ceas'd;

Cloudless and calm it left the firmament, And beautiful in the blue sky

Arose the summer Moon.

XXXIV.

She heard the quicken'd action of her blood, She felt the fever in her cheeks.

Daunted, yet desperate, in a tomb Entering, with impious hand she traced Circles, and squares, and trines,

And magic characters,

Till, riven by her charms, the grave Yawn'd and disclos'd its dead; Maimuna's eyes were open'd, and she saw The secrets of the grave.

XXXV.

There sate a Spirit in the vault,

In shape, in hue, in lineaments, like life. And by him couch'd, as if intranced, The hundred-headed Worm that never dies.

XXXVI.

«Nay, Sorceress! not to-night!» the Spirit cried, «The flesh in which I sinn'd may rest to-night From suffering, all things, even I, to-night, Even the Damn'd, repose!»>

XXXVII.

The flesh of Maimuna

Crept on her bones with terror, and her knees Trembled with their trembling weight. Only this Sabbath! and at dawn the Worm Will wake, and this poor flesh must grow to meet The gnawing of his hundred poison-mouths! 14 God! God! is there no mercy after death?»

XXXVIU.

Soul-struck, she rush'd away,

She fled the place of Tombs,
She cast herself upon the earth,
All agony, and tumult, and despair.
And, in that wild and desperate agony,
Sure Maimuna had died the utter death,
If aught of evil had been possible
On this mysterious night;

For this was that most holy night 15
When all Created Things know and adore

The Power that made them; Insects, Beasts, and Birds,
The Water-Dwellers, Herbs, and Trees, and Stones,
Yea, Earth and Ocean, and the infinite Heaven,

With all its Worlds. Man only does not know The universal Sabbath, does not join With Nature in her homage. Yet the prayer Flows from the righteous with intenser love; A holier calm succeeds, and sweeter dreams Visit the slumbers of the penitent.

XXXIX.

Therefore, on Maimuna, the Elements
Shed healing; every breath she breath'd was balm.
Was not a flower but sent in incense up
Its richest odours, and the song of birds
Now, like the music of the Seraphim,
Enter'd her soul, and now

Made silence awful by their sudden pause.
It seem'd as if the quiet moon
Pour'd quietness, its lovely light
Was like the smile of reconciling Heaven.

XL.

Is it the dew of night

That down her glowing cheek

Shines in the moon-beam? oh! she weeps-she weeps!
And the Good Angel that abandon'd her 16
At her hell-baptism, by her tears drawn down,
Resumes his charge. Then Maimuna
Recall'd to mind the double oracle;
Quick as the lightning flash

Its import glanced upon her, and the hope
Of pardon and salvation rose,

As now she understood
The lying prophecy of truth.
She pauses not, she ponders not;

The driven air before her fann'd the face

Of Thalaba, and he awoke and saw
The Sorceress of the silver locks.

XLI.

One more permitted spell!

She takes the magic thread.

With the wide eye of wonder, Thalaba Watches her snowy fingers round and round, Unwind the loosening chain. Again he hears the low sweet voice, The low sweet voice so musical, That sure it was not strange, If, in those unintelligible tones, Was more than human potency, That with such deep and undefin'd delight, Filled the surrendered soul.

The work is done, the song hath ceas'd; He wakes as from a dream of Paradise, And feels his fetters gone, and with the burst Of wondering adoration, praises God.

Nay, Maimuna! thy power hath ceas'd, And the wind scatters now

The voice which rul'd it late.

XLIII.

« Be comforted, my soul!» she cried, her eye
Brightening with sudden joy; « be comforted!
We have burst through the bonds which bound us down
To utter death; our covenant with flell

Is blotted out! The Lord hath given me strength!
Great is the Lord, and merciful!
Hear me, ye rebel Spirits! in the name
Of Allah and the Prophet, hear the spell!»

XLIV.

Groans then were heard, the prison-walls were rent, The whirlwind wrapt them round, and forth they flew, Borne in the chariot of the winds abroad.

BOOK X.

And the Angel that was sent unto me said, Thinkest thou to com. prehend the way of the Most High!... Then said I, Yea, my Lord. And be answered me, and said, I am sent to shew thee three ways and to set forth three similitudes before thee; whereof, if thou canst declare me one, I will shew thee also the way that thou desirest to see, and I shall shew thee from whence the wicked heart cometh. And I said, Tell on, my Lord. Then said he unto me, Go thy way, weigh me the weight of the fire, or measure me the blast of the wind, or call me again the day that is past.

1.

ESDRAS ii. 4.

ERE there was time for wonder or for fear, The way was past, and lo! again Amid surrounding snows,

Within the cavern of the witch they stand.

II.

Then came the weakness of her natural age
At once on Maimuna;
The burthen of her years

Fell on her, and she knew

That her repentance in the sight of God
Had now found favour, and her hour was come.
Her death was like the righteous; « Turn my face
To Mecca!» in her languid eyes

The joy of certain hope
Lit a last lustre, and in death
The smile was on her cheek.

III.

No faithful crowded round her bier,' No tongue reported her good deeds, For her no mourners wail'd and wept, No Iman o'er her perfum'd corpse, For her soul's health inton'd the prayer; No column rais'd by the way-side1 Implor'd the passing traveller To say a requiem for the dead. Thalaba laid her in the snow, And took his weapons from the hearth, And then once more the youth began His weary way of solitude.