He rode the Wind; the Genii reared his temple, And ceaselessly in fear, while his dread eye Ɔ'erlooked them, day and night pursued their toil, So dreadful was his power. THALABA. But 'twas 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. "Tis 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 Granted to man were granted for his use: All knowledge that befits not human weakness Is placed beyond its reach. They who repair To Babylon, and from the Angels learn Mysterious wisdom, sin not in the deed. THALABA. Know you these secrets? LOBABA. I? Alas, my Son! My age just knows enough to understand How little all its knowledge. Later years, Sacred to study, teach me to regret Youth's unforeseeing indolence, and hours That cannot be recalled. Something I know The properties of herbs, and have sometimes Brought to the afflicted comfort and relief By the secrets of my art, under His blessing Without whom all had failed. Also of gems I have some knowledge, and the characters That tell beneath what aspect they were set. THALABA. Belike you can interpret, then, the graving Around this Ring? LOBABA. My sight is feeble, Son, And I must view it closer: let me try. 16. The unsuspecting Youth Held forth his finger to draw off the spell. Even whilst he held it forth, There settled there a Wasp, And just above the Gem infixed its dart; The baffled Sorcerer knew the hand of Heaven, And inwardly blasphemed. 17. Ere long, Lobaba's heart, Fruitful in wiles, devised new stratagem. Like the loose-hanging skirts Of some low cloud, that, by the breeze impelled, A heavier mass of cloud, Impenetrably deep, Hung o'er the wilderness. "Know'st thou the track?" quoth Thalaba, "Or should we pause, and wait the wind The Sorcerer answered him: "Now let us hold right on; for, if we stray, The Sun to-morrow will direct our course." So saying, he toward the desert depths Misleads the youth deceived. 18. Earlier the night came on; Nor moon nor stars were visible in heaven; And when at morn the youth unclosed his eyes, He knew not where to turn his face in prayer. "What shall we do?" Lobaba cried; "The lights of heaven have ceased To guide us on our way. Should we remain, and wait More favorable skies, Soon would our food and water fail us here; And, if we venture on, There are the dangers of the wilderness!" 19. "Sure it were best proceed!" "So haply we may reach some tent, or grove Of dates, or stationed tribe. But idly to remain, Were yielding effortless, and waiting death." Elate of heart, he leads the credulous youth. 20. 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 lay down: The morning came, and not one guiding ray Through the thick mist was visible, The same deep moveless mist that mantled all. 21. Oh for the Vulture's scream, Who haunts for prey the abode of human-kind! Oh for the Plover's pleasant cry To tell of water near! Oh for the Camel-driver's song! For now the water-skin grows light, Though of the draught, more eagerly desired, 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 looked abroad; The water-skin was drained; For there was motion in the air! |