15.

Is it not come?" quoth Thalaba, "Yea! by this omen! and with fearless hand He grasp'd the burning fetters, "in the name Of God!".. and from the rock Rooted the rivets, and adown the gulph Dropt them. The rush of flames roar'd up, For they had kindled in their fall The deadly vapours of the pit profound, And Thalaba bent on and look'd below. But vainly he explored

The deep abyss of flame,

That sunk beyond the plunge of mortal eye,
Now all ablaze, as if infernal fires

Illumed the world beneath.
Soon was the poison-fuel spent,
The flame grew pale and dim,

And dimmer now it fades, and now is quench'd,

And all again is dark,

Save where the yellow air

Enters a little in and mingles slow.

16.

Meantime, the freed Othatha claspt his knees, And cried, "Deliverer!" struggling then With joyful hope, "and where is she," he cried, "Whose promised coming for so many a year..." "Go!" answered Thalaba,

"She waits thee at the gates."

"And in thy triumph," he replied,

"There thou wilt join us?".. The Deliverer's eye Glanced on the abyss, way else was none.. The depth was unascendable. "Await not me," he cried,

Inflates the wings above.

Down..down.. a measureless depth!.. down..down, Was then the Simorg with the Powers of ill Associate to destroy?

And was that lovely Mariner

A fiend as false as fair?
For still the car sinks down;
But ever the uprushing wind
Inflates the wings above,
And still the struggling wings

Repel the rushing wind.
Down.. down.. and now it strikes.

18.

He stands and totters giddily,
All objects round awhile
Float dizzy on his sight;
Collected soon, he gazes for the way.
There was a distant light that led his search;
The torch a broader blaze,

The unpruned taper flares a longer flame,
But this was strong as is the noontide sun,
So, in the glory of its rays intense,
It quiver'd with green glow.
Beyond was all unseen,

No eye could penetrate

That unendurable excess of light.

19.

It veil'd no friendly form, thought Thalaba:
And wisely did he deem,

For at the threshold of the rocky door,
Hugest and fiercest of his kind accurst,
Fit warden of the sorcery-gate,
A rebel Afreet lay; 1

He scented the approach of human food, And hungry hope kindled his eye of fire. Raising his hand to screen the dazzled sense, Onward held Thalaba,

And lifted still at times a rapid glance;
Till the due distance gain'd,

With head abased, he laid

An arrow in its rest.

With steady effort and knit forehead then, Full on the painful light

He fix'd his aching eye, and loosed the bow.

20.

A hideous yell ensued;

And sure no human voice had scope or power For that prodigious shriek

Whose pealing echoes thundered up the rock. Dim grew the dying light;

1 One of these evil Genii is thus described in the Bahar Danush: "On his entrance, he beheld a black demon heaped on the ground like a mountain, with two large horns upon his head, and a long proboscis, fast asleep. In his head the Divine Creator had joined the likenesses of the elephant and the wild bull. His teeth grew out as the tusks of a boar, and all over his monstrous carcass hung shaggy hairs, like those of the bear. The eye of mortal-born was dimmed at his appearance, and the mind, at his horrible form and frightful figure, was confounded.

"He was an Afreet, created from mouth to foot by the wrath of God.

"His hair like a bear's, his teeth like a boar's. No one ever beheld such a monster.

"Crook-backed, and crabbed-faced; he might be scented at the distance of a thousand fersungs.

"His nostrils were like the ovens of brick-burners, and kis mouth resembled the vat of the dyer.

"When his breath came forth, from its vehemence the dust rose up as in a whirlwind, so as to leave a chasm in the earth; and when he drew it in, chaff, sand, and pebbles, from the distance of some yards, were attracted to his nostrils."Bahar Danush.

But Thalaba leapt onward to the doors

Now visible beyond,

And while the Afreet warden of the way Was writhing with his death-pangs, over him Sprung and smote the stony doors, And bade them, in the name of God, give way!

21.

The dying Fiend beneath him, at that name Tost in worse agony,

And the rocks shudder'd, and the rocky doors
Rent at the voice asunder. Lo! within..
The Teraph and the Fire,

And Khawla, and in mail complete
Mohareb for the strife.

But Thalaba, with numbing force, Smites his raised arm, and rushes by; For now he sees the fire, amid whose flames, On the white ashes of Hodeirah, lies

Hodeirah's holy sword.

22.

He rushes to the Fire:

Then Khawla met the youth, And leapt upon him, and with clinging arms Clasps him, and calls Mohareb now to aim The effectual vengeance. O fool! fool! he sees His Father's Sword, and who shall bar his way? Who stand against the fury of that arm That spurns her to the ground?.. She rises half, she twists around his knees,.. A moment.. and he vainly strives To shake her from her hold;

Impatient then he seized her leathery neck With throttling grasp, and as she loosed her hold, Thrust her aside, and unimpeded now Springs forward to the Sword.

23.

The co-existent Flame

Knew the Destroyer; it encircled him, Roll'd up his robe, and gather'd round his head :

Condensing to intenser splendour there,
His Crown of Glory and his Light of Life,
Hover'd the irradiate wreath.

24.

The instant Thalaba had laid his hand
Upon his Father's Sword,

The Living Image in the inner cave
Smote the Round Altar. The Domdaniel rock'd
Through all its thundering vaults;
Over the Surface of the reeling Earth,
The alarum shock was felt;

The Sorcerer brood, all, all, where'er dispersed,
Perforce obey'd the summons; all,.. they came
Compell'd by Hell and Heaven;
By Hell compell'd to keep

Their baptism-covenant,

And with the union of their strength Oppose the common danger; forced by Heaven To share the common doom.

25.

Vain are all spells! the Destroyer Treads the Domdaniel floor.

They crowd with human arms and human force To crush the single foe.

Vain is all human force! He wields his Father's Sword, The vengeance of awaken'd Deity. But chief on Thalaba Mohareb prest; The Witch in her oracular speech Announced one fatal blow for both, And, desperate of self-safety, yet he hoped To serve the cause of Eblis, and uphold His empire, true in death.

26.

Who shall withstand the Destroyer?
Scatter'd before the sword of Thalaba
The Sorcerer throng recede,

And leave him space for combat. Wretched man,...
What shall the helmet or the shield avail
Against Almighty anger? . . wretched man,
Too late Mohareb finds that he hath chosen
The evil part! . . He rears his shield
To meet the Arabian's sword,..
Under the edge of that fire-hardened steel,
The shield falls sever'd; his cold arm
Rings with the jarring blow:..
He lifts his scymetar;

A second stroke, and lo! the broken hilt
Hangs from his palsied hand :
And now he bleeds, and now he flies,
And fain would hide himself amid the troop;
But they feel the sword of Hodeirah,

But they also fly from the ruin,
And hasten to the inner cave,

And fall all fearfully

Around the Giant Idol's feet, Seeking protection from the Power they served.

27.

It was a Living Image, by the art
Of magic hands, of flesh and bones composed,
And buman blood, through veins and arteries
That flow'd with vital action. In the shape
Of Eblis it was made;

Its stature such, and such its strength,
As when among the sons of God
Pre-eminent he raised his radiant head,
Prince of the Morning. On his brow
A coronet of meteor flames,
Flowing in points of light.
Self-poised in air before him

Hung the Round Altar, rolling like the World
On its diurnal axis, like the World
Chequer'd with sea and shore,

The work of Demon art.

For where the sceptre in the Idol's hand Touch'd the Round Altar, in its answering realm, Earth felt the stroke, and Ocean rose in storms, And shatter'd Cities, shaken from their seat, Crush'd all their habitants. His other arm was raised, and its spread palm Sustain'd the ocean-weight, Whose naked waters arch'd the sanctuary; Sole prop and pillar he.

28.

Fallen on the ground, around his feet, The Sorcerers lay. Mohareb's quivering arms

Clung to the Idol's knees;

The Idol's face was pale,

And calm in terror he beheld The approach of the Destroyer.

29.

Sure of his stroke, and therefore in pursuit Following, nor blind, nor hasty, on his foe, Moved the Destroyer. Okba met his way, Of all that brotherhood

He only fearless, miserable man, The one that had no hope. "On me, on me," the childless Sorcerer cried, Let fall the weapon! I am he who stole Upon the midnight of thy Father's tent; This is the hand that pierced Hodeirah's heart, That felt thy brethren's and thy sisters' blood Gush round the dagger-hilt. Let fall on me The fated sword! the vengeance-hour is come! Destroyer, do thy work!

30.

Nor wile, nor weapon, had the desperate wretch; He spread his bosom to the stroke.

"Old Man, I strike thee not!" said Thalaba; "The evil thou hast done to me and mine Brought its own bitter punishment.

For thy dear Daughter's sake I pardon thee, As I do hope Heaven's pardon. . . For her sake Repent while time is yet!.. thou hast my prayers To aid thee; thou poor sinner, cast thyself Upon the goodness of offended God! and what if now join in Paradise not Allah made where the sight

I speak in Laila's name;
Thou canst not think to
Her spotless Spirit,.. hath
Al-Araf, in his wisdom?

Of Heaven may kindle in the penitent
The strong and purifying fire of hope,
Till, at the Day of Judgement, he shall see
The Mercy-Gates unfold."

31.

The astonish'd man stood gazing as he spake,
At length his heart was soften'd, and the tears
Gush'd, and he sobb'd aloud.
Then suddenly was heard

The all-beholding Prophet's voice divine,
"Thou hast done well, my Servant!
Ask and receive thy reward!"

1 Araf is a place between the Paradise and the Hell of the Mahommedans ; some deem it a veil of separation, some a strong wall. Others hold it to be a Purgatory, in which those believers will remain, whose good and evil works have been so equal, that they were neither virtuous enough to enter Paradise, nor guilty enough to be condemned to the fire of Hell. From whence they see the glory of the blessed, and are near enough to congratulate them; but their ardent desire to partake the same happiness becomes a great pain.

32.

A deep and aweful joy

Seem'd to dilate the heart of Thalaba; With arms in reverence cross'd upon his breast, Upseeking eyes suffused with tears devout, He answered to the Voice, "Prophet of God, Holy, and good, and bountiful! One only earthly wish have I, to work Thy will; and thy protection grants me that. Look on this Sorcerer! heavy are his crimes, But infinite is mercy! if thy servant Have now found favour in the sight of God, Let him be touch'd with penitence, and save His soul from utter death."

33.

"The groans of penitence," replied the Voice, "Never arise unheard!

But, for thyself, prefer the prayer ;
The Treasure-house of Heaven
Is open to thy will."

34.

"Prophet of God!" then answered Thalaba, "I am alone on earth;

Thou knowest the secret wishes of my heart! Do with me as thou wilt! thy will is best."

35.

There issued forth no Voice to answer him; But, lo! Hodeirah's Spirit comes to see His vengeance, and beside him, a pure form Of roseate light, his Angel mother hung. "My Child, my dear, my glorious.. blessed.. Child, My promise is perform'd. . fulfil thy work!”

36.

Thalaba knew that his death-hour was come; And on he leapt, and springing up,

Into the Idol's heart

Hilt deep he plunged the Sword.

The Ocean-vault fell in, and all were crush'd.
In the same moment, at the gate
Of Paradise, Oneiza's Houri form
Welcomed her Husband to eternal bliss.

At length, at the day of judgement, when all men, before they are judged, shall be cited to render homage to their Creator, those who are here confined shall prostrate themselves before the face of the Lord, in adoration: and by this act of religion, which shall be accounted a merit, the number of their good works will exceed their evil ones, and they will enter into glory.

Saadi says, that Araf appears a Hell to the happy, and a Paradise to the damned.—D'Herbelot.

TO

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.

THE historical facts on which this Poem is founded may be related in a few words. On the death of Owen Gwyneth, king of North Wales, A. D. 1169, his children disputed the succession. Yorwerth, the elder, was set aside without a struggle, as being incapacitated by a blemish in his face. Hoel, though illegitimate, and born of an Irish mother, obtained possession of the throne for a while, till he was defeated and slain by David, the eldest son of the late king by a second wife. The conqueror, who then succeeded without opposition, slew Yorwerth, imprisoned Rodri, and hunted others of his brethren into exile. But Madoc, meantime, abandoned his barbarous country, and sailed away to the West in search of some better resting-place. The land which he discovered pleased him: he left there part of his people, and went back to Wales for a fresh supply of adventurers, with whom he again set sail, and was heard of no more. Strong evidence has been adduced that he reached America, and that his posterity exist there to this day, on the southern branches of the Missouri, retaining their complexion, their language, and, in some degree, their arts.

About the same time, the Aztecas, an American tribe, in consequence of certain calamities, and of a particular omen, forsook Aztlan, their own country, under the guidance of Yuhidthiton. They became a mighty people, and founded the Mexican empire, taking the name of Mexicans, in honour of Mexitli, their tutelary god. Their emigration is here connected with the adventures of Madoc, and their superstition is represented as the same which their

That country has now been fully explored, and whereever Madoc may have settled, it is now certain that no Welsh

descendants practised, when discovered by the Spaniards. The manners of the Poem, in both its parts, will be found historically true. It assumes not the degraded title of Epic: and the question, therefore, is not whether the story is formed upon the rules of Aristotle, but whether it be adapted to the purposes of poetry.

Keswick, 1805.

"Three things must be avoided in Poetry; the frivolous, the obscure, and the superfluous.

"The three excellencies of Poetry; simplicity of language, simplicity of subject, and simplicity of invention.

"The three indispensable purities of Poetry; pure truth, pure language, and pure manners.

"Three things should all Poetry be; thoroughly erudite, thoroughly animated, and thoroughly natural."— Triads.

COME, LISTEN TO A TALE OF TIMES OF OLD!
COME, FOR YE KNOW ME. I AM HE WHO SANG
THE MAID OF ARC, AND I AM HE WHO FRAMED
OF THALABA THE WILD AND WONDROUS SONG.
COME, LISTEN TO MY LAY, AND YE SHALL HEAR
HOW MADOC FROM THE SHORES OF BRITAIN SPREAD
THE ADVENTUROUS SAIL, EXPLORED THE OCEAN PATHS,
AND QUELLED BARBARIAN POWER, AND OVERTHREW
THE BLOODY ALTARS OF IDOLATRY,

AND PLANTED IN ITS FANES TRIUMPHANTLY
THE CROSS OF CHRIST. COME, LISTEN TO MY LAY!

Indians are to be found upon any branches of the Missouri. -1815.

MADOC IN WALES.

PART I.

I.

THE RETURN TO WALES.

Here stands one

FAIR blows the wind,.. the vessel drives along,
Her streamers fluttering at their length, her sails
All full,.. she drives along, and round her prow
Scatters the ocean spray. What feelings then
Fill'd every bosom, when the mariners,
After the peril of that weary way,
Beheld their own dear country!
Stretching his sight toward the distant shore,
And as to well-known forms his busy joy
Shapes the dim outline, eagerly he points
The fancied headland and the cape and bay,
Till his eyes ache o'erstraining. This man shakes
His comrade's hand and bids him welcome home,
And blesses God, and then he weeps aloud:
Here stands another, who in secret prayer
Calls on the Virgin and his patron Saint,
Renewing his old vows of gifts and alms
And pilgrimage, so he may find all well.
Silent and thoughtful and apart from all
Stood Madoc 1; now his noble enterprize
Proudly remembering, now in dreams of hope,
Anon of bodings full and doubt and fear.
Fair smiled the evening, and the favouring gale
Sung in the shrouds, and swift the steady bark
Rush'd roaring through the waves.

The sun goes down:
Far off his light is on the naked crags
Of Penmanmawr, and Arvon's ancient hills;
And the last glory lingers yet awhile,
Crowning old Snowdon's venerable head,
That rose amid his mountains. Now the ship
Drew nigh where Mona, the dark island 2, stretch'd
Her shore along the ocean's lighter line.
There through the mist and twilight, many a fire

1 Long after these lines had been written, I was pleased at finding the same feeling expressed in a very singular specimen of metrical auto-biography:

"A Nao, despregando as velas

Ja se aproveita do vento;

E de evidente alegria

Os Portuguezes ja cheios
Sobre o conves estam todos;
Na terra se vam revendo
Igrejas, Palacios, Quintas,

De que tem conhecimento,
Daqui, dalli apontando

Vam ledamente co dedo.
Todos fallando demostram
Seus jubilos manifestos;
Mas o Vieira occupado
Vai de hum notavel silencio.
Seu excessivo alvoroço
Tumultuante, que dentro
No peito sente, lhe causa
De sobresalto os effeitos.

Up-flaming stream'd upon the level sea
Red lines of lengthening light, which, far away
Rising and falling, flash'd athwart the waves.
Thereat full many a thought of ill disturb'd
Prince Madoc's mind; . . did some new conqueror seize
The throne of David? had the tyrant's guilt
Awaken'd vengeance to the deed of death?
Or blazed they for a brother's obsequies,

The sport and mirth of murder?.. Like the lights
Which there upon Aberfraw's 3 royal walls

Are waving with the wind, the painful doubt
Fluctuates within him. . . Onward drives the gale,..
On flies the bark; . . and she hath reach'd at length
Her haven, safe from her unequall'd way!

And now, in louder and yet louder joy
Clamorous, the happy mariners all-hail
Their native shore, and now they leap to land.

There stood an old man on the beach to wait The comers from the ocean; and he ask'd, Is it the Prince? And Madoc knew his voice, And turn'd to him and fell upon his neck; For it was Urien who had foster'd him, Had loved him like a child; and Madoc loved, Even as a father loved he that old man. My Sister? quoth the Prince. . Oh, she and I Have wept together, Madoc, for thy loss,.. That long and cruel absence!.. She and I, Hour after hour and day by day, have look'd Toward the waters, and with aching eyes And aching heart, sate watching every sail.

And David and our brethren? cried the Prince, As they moved on... But then old Urien's lips Were slow at answer; and he spake, and paused In the first breath of utterance, as to choose Fit words for uttering some unhappy tale. More blood, quoth Madoc, yet? Hath David's fear Forced him to still more cruelty? Alas.. Woe for the house of Owen !

Evil stars,

Replied the old man, ruled o'er thy brethren's birth,
From Dolwyddelan driven, his peaceful home,
Poor Yorwerth sought the church's sanctuary;
The murderer follow'd;.. Madoc, need I say

Quanto mais elle chegando

Vai ao suspirado termo,
Mais se lhe augmenta o gostoso

Susto no doce projecto."- Vieira Lusitano.

2 Ynys Dowyll, the dark island.

Rhodri

3 The palace of Gwynedd, or North Wales. Mawr, about the year 873, fixed the seat of government here, which had formerly been at Dyganwy, but latterly at Caer Seiont in Arvon, near the present town of Caernarvon. "It is strange," says Warrington, "that he should desert a country where every mountain was a natural fortress, and in times of such difficulty and danger should make choice of a residence so exposed and defenceless." But this very danger may have been his motive. The Danes, who could make no impression upon England against the great Alfred, had turned their arms upon Wales; Mona was the part most open to their ravages, and it may have been an act as well of policy as of courage in the king to fix his abode there. He fell there, at length, in battle against the Saxons. A barn now stands upon the site of the palace, in which there are stones that, by their better workmanship, appear to have belonged to the original building.