tvvxmltmKa iimm i mu ii m sm'iitiswMiitbte ' >;; t . 'i!!V.'!«OT ■'■" AK tuninl ti -i^immm.t.f , T ^M^MAg M©(n)M.Ti^- "^^ - '^^ /MlMi^/ M^/ '^ E [^ .?. V LALLA ROOKH, (Diicutal Uoiuauce. BY THOMAS MOORE. ILLUSTRATED WITH ENGRAVINGS DRAWINGS BY EMINENT ARTISTS. NEW YORK: L E A Y I T T & ALLEN, ■t ' , I ^ 'J i ^^"^9 i P({ ^0 ^^ iA- TO SAMUEL HOGEUS, ESQ. THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED, .HIS TERY GRATEFUL Al^D AFFECTIONATE FRIEND, THOMAS MOORE. May 19, 1817. A 2 err' «35're4-0 CONTENTS ■Pago PREFACE 13 THE VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN 39 PARADISE AND IIIE PEKl 150 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS •• • 133 THE LIGHT OF THE IIARAM ^ » 29S LIST OF THE ILLUSTRATIONS. LALLA ROOIffl. B; K. Meadows. {To face Title.) DEATH OF HINDA. {Engraved Title-page.) By Edward Corbould. « One wild heart-broken shriek she gave, Then sprung, as if to reach that blaze, Where still she fixed her dying gaze, And, gazing, sunk into the wave." The Firc-ivorstiippers. ZELICA. By Edward Corbould. " You saw her pale dismay, Ye wondering sisterhood, and heard the burst Of exclamation from her lips, when fust She saw that youth, too well, too dearly known, Silently kneeling at the Prophet's throne." The Veiled Prophet of Khorassan, p. 48. LIST OF THE ILLUSTRATIONS. AZIM AND ZELTCA. By Edward Corbould. -" Scarce had she said These breathless words, when a voice deep and dread As that of MoNKF-n, waking up the dead From their first sleep — so starthng 'twas to ': ,)t!- Rung through the casement near, ' Thy oath ! thy oath !' " Tlie Veiled Prophet of Khorassan, p. 102. ZELICA DISCOVERING THE VEILED PROPHET. By Edward Corboule.-. « But hark — she stops — she listens — dreadful tone ! 'Tis her tormentor's laugh — and now, a groan." The Veiled Prophet of Khorassan, p. 132. THE PERI AT THE GATE OF EDEN. By K. Meadows. « One morn a Peri at the gate Of Eden stood, disconsolate." Paradise and the Peri, p. 150. LIST OF THE ILLUSTRATIONS. THE PERI'S FIRST PILGRIMAGE. By Edward Corbould. « ' Nay, turn not from mc that dear face — Am I not thine — thy own loved bride— The one, the chosen one, whose place In life or death is by thy side V " Paradise and the Peri, p. 164, THE PERI'S SECOND PILGRIMAGE By Edward Corbould. "Then swift his haggard brow he turned To the fair child, who fearless sat, Though never yet hath daybeam burned Upon a brow more fierce than that." Paradise and the Peri, p. 170. THE PARTING OF HINDA AND HAFED. By T. p. Stepiianoff. "'My dreams have boded all too right — We part — for ever part — to-night ! I knew, I knew it cmdd not last — 'Twas bright, 'twas heavenly, but 'tis pist !' " TJie Fire-worshippers, p. 200. Xil LIST OF THE ILLUSTRATIONS. THE DEPARTURE OF HAFED. Bv Edward Corbould. " Fiercely he broke a'S'ay, nor stopped, Nor looked — but frctm the lattice dropped Down mid the pointed crags beneath, As if he fled from love to death." Tlie Firc-wor-'^hippers, p. 207 HINDA. Bv T. P. Stephanoff. « And watch, and look along the deep For him whose smiles first made her weep." TIte Fire-worshippen, p. 229. NAMOUNA, By K. Meadows. " Her glance Spoke something, pa.st all mortal pleasures, As, in a kind of holy trance. She hung above those fragrant treasures, Bending to drink their balmy airs, As if she mixed her soul with theirs." The Light of the Haram, p. 315. NOURMAHAL ASLEEP. By T. p. Stephanoff. « No sooner was the flowery crown Placed on her head, than sleep came down. Gently as nights of summer fall, Upon the lids of Nourmahal." The Light of the Haram, p. 318. PREFACE. The Poem, or Romance, of Lalla Rookh, having now reached, I understand, its twentieth edition, a short account of the origin and progress of a work which has been hitherto so very fortunate in its course, may not be deemed, perhaps, superfluous or misplaced. It was about the year 1812 that, far more through the encouraging suggestions of friends than from any confident promptings of my own ambition, I conceived the design of ^^Titing a Poem upon some Oriental subject, and of those quarto dimensions which Scott's successful publications in that form had then rendered the regular poetical standard. A negotiation on the subject was opened with the Messrs. Longman, in the same year; but, from some causes which I cannot now recollect, led to no decisive result; nor was it till a year or two after, that any further steps were taken in the matter, — their house being the only one, it is right to add, with which, from first to last, I held any communication upon the subject. On this last occasion, Mr. Perry kindly offered himself as my representative in the treaty ; and, what with tlie friendly zeal of ray negotiator on the one side, and thr 14 PREFACE. pi 01 apt and liberal spirit with which he was met on the other, there has seldom, I think, occurred any transaction in which Trade and Poesy have shone out so advanta- geously in each other's eyes. The short discussion that then took place, between the two parties, may be com prised in a very few sentences. "I am of opinion," said Mr. Perry, — enforcing his view of the case by arguments which it is not for me to cite, — "that Mr. Moore ought to receive for his Poem the lai'gest price that has been given, in our day, for such a work." "That was," answered the Messrs. Longman, "three thousand guineas." " Exactly so," replied Mr. Perry, "and no less a sum ought he to receive." It was then objected, and very reasonably, on the part of the firm, that they had never yet seen a single line of the Poem ; and that a perusal of the work ought to be allowed to them, before they embarked so large a sum in the purchase. But, no ; — the romantic view which my friend, Perry, took of the matter, was, that this price should be given as a tribute to reputation already acquired, without any condition for a previous perusal of the new work. This high tone, I must confess, not a little startled and alarmed me ; but, to the honour and glory of Romance, — as well on the publishers' side as the poet's, — this very generous view of the transaction was, without any difficulty, acceded to, and the firm agreed, before we separated, tnat I was to receive three thousand guineas for my Poem. PREFACE. 15 At the time of this agreement, but httle of the work, as it stands at present, had yet been written. But the ready confidence of my success shown by others, made up for the deficiency of that requisite feehng, within myself, while a strong desire not wholly to disappoint this "auguring hope," became almost a substitute for inspiration. In the year 1815, therefore, having made some progress in my task, I wrote to report the state of the work to the Messrs. Longman, adding, that I was now most willing and ready, should they desire it, to submit the manuscript for theii consideration. Their answer to this offer was as follows : — " We are certainly impatient for the perusal of the Poem ; but solely for our gratification. Your sentiments are always honourable." * I continued to pursue my task for another year, being likewise occasionally occupied with the Irish Melodies, two or three numbers of ' which made their appearance, during the period employed in writing Lalla Rookh. At length, in the year 1816, I found my work sufficiently advanced to be placed in the hands of the publishers. But the state of distress to which England was reduced, in that dismal year, by the exliausting effects of the series of wars she had just then concluded, and the general em- barrassment of all classes, both agricultural and commercial, rendered it a juncture the least favourable that could wel » April 10, 1815. 16 PREFACE. be conceived for the first launch into print of so light and costly a venture as Lalla Rookh. Feeling conscious, there- fore, that, under such circumstances, I should act but honestly in putting it in the power of the Messrs. Longman to reconsider the terms of their engagement with me,— leaving them free to po;rtpone, modify, or even, should such be their wish, relinquish it altogether, I WTote them a letter to that effect, and received the following answer : — " We shall be most happy in the pleasure of seeing you in February. We agree with you, indeed, that the times are most inauspicious for ' poetry and thousands ;' but we believe that your poetry would do more than that of any other living poet at the present moment."'' The length of time I employed in writing the few stories strung together in Lalla Rookh will appear, to some persons, much more than was necessary for the production of such easy and " light o' love" fictions. But, besides that I have been, at all times, a far more slow and painstaking w^orkman than- would ever be guessed, I fear, from the .result, I felt that, in this instance, I had taken upon myself a more than ordinary responsibility, from the immense stake risked by others on my chance of success. For a long time, therefore, afler the agreement had been concluded, though generally at work with a view to this task, I made but very little real progress in it ; and I have still by me the beginnings of » November 9, 1816. PREFACE. 17 several siones, continued, some of Ihem, to the length of three or four hunch'ed Hues, which, after in vain endeavouring to mould them into shape, I threw aside, like the tale of Cambuscan, " k-ft haU-tokl." One of these stories, entitled I'he Peri's Daughter, was meant to relate the loves of a nymph of this aerial extraction with a youth of mortal race, the rightful Prince of Ormuz, who had been, from his infancy, brought up, in seclusion, on the banks of the river Amou, by an aged guardian named Mohassan. The story opens with the first meeting of these destined lovers, then in their childhood ; the Peri having wafted her daughter to diis holy retreat, in a bright, enchanted boat, whose first appearance is thus described : — For, down the silvery tide afar, There came a boat, as swift and bright As shines, in heaven, some pilgrim-star, That leaves its own high home, at night. To shoot to distant shrines of light. « It comes, it comes," 3'oung Orian cries, And panting to Mohassan flies. Then down upon the flowery grass Reclines to see the vision pass ; With partly joy and partly fear, To find its wondrous light so near, And hiding oft his dazzled eyes Among the flowers on which he lies. Within the boat a baby sk;it, Like a young pearl within its shell ; While one, who seemed of riper years. But not of earth, or earthhke spheres. Her watch beside the slumberer kept ; 19 PK E F A CE. Gracefully waving, in her hand, I'he feathers of some holy bird, With which, from time to time, she stirred The fragrant air, and coolly fanned The baby's brow, or brushed away The butterflies that, bright and blue As on the mountains of Malay, Around the sleeping infant flew. And now the fau-y boat hath stopped Beside the bank, — the nymph has dropped Her golden anchor in the stream ; A song is sung by the Peri in approaching, of which the following forms a part : — My child she is but half divine ; Her father sleeps in the Caspian water ; Sea-weeds twine His funeral shrine, But he lives again in the Peri's daughter. Fain would I fly from mortal sight To my own sweet bowers of Peristan But there, the flowers are all too bright J'or the eyes of a baby born of man. On flowers of earth her feet must tread ; So hither my light-winged bark hath brought her ; Stranger, spread Thy leafiest bed, To rest the wandering Peri's daughter. In another of these inchoate fragments, a proud female samt^ named Banou, plays a principal part, and her progress through the streets of Cufa, on the night of a great illumi- nated festival, I find thus described :- - PREFACE. It was a scene of mirth that drew A smile from even the Saint Banou, As, through the hushed, admiring throng. She went with stately steps along, And counted o'er, that all might see, The rubies of her rosary. But none might see the worldly smile That lurked beneath her veil, the while : — Alia forbid ! for, who would wait Her blessing at the temple's gate, — What holy man would ever run To Iciss the ground she knelt upon, If once, by luckless chance, he knew She looked and smiled as others do ] Her hands were joined, and from each wrist By threads of pearl and golden twist Hung relics of the saints of yore, And scraps of talismanic lore, — Charms for the old, the sick, the frail, Some made for use, and all for sale. On either side, the crowd withdrew. To let the Saint pass proudly through ; While turbaned heads, of every hue. Green, white, and crimson, bowed around. And gay tiaras touched the ground, — As tulip-bells, when o'er their beds The musk-wind passes, bend their heads. Nay, some there were, among the crowd Of Moslem heads that round her bowed, So filled with zeal, by many a draught Of Shiraz wine profanely quaffed, That, sinking low in reverence then, They never rose till morn again. There are yet two more of these unfinished sketches, one of which extends to a much greater length than I was aware of; and, as far as I can judge from a hasty renewal of my acquaintance with it, it is not incapable of being yet turned to account. 20 PREFACE. In only one of these unfinitilied sketches, the tale of The Peri's Daughter, had I yet ventured to invoke that most homefelt of all my inspirations, which has lent to the story of The Fire-worshippers its main attraction and interest. That t was my intention, in the concealed Prince of Ormuz, to shadow out some impersonation of this feeling, I take for granted from the prophetic words supposed to be addressed to him by his aged guardian : — Bright child of destiny ! even now I read the promise on that brow, That tyrants shall no more defile The glories of the Green-Sea Isle, But Ormuz shall again be free, And hail her native Lord in thee ! In none of the other fragments do I find any trace of this sort of feeling, either in the subject or the personages of the intended story ; and this was the reason, doubtless, though hardly known, at the time, to myself, that, finding my subjects so slow in kindling my own sympathies, I began to despair of their ever touching the hearts of others; and felt often inclined to say, " O no, I have no voice or hand For such a song, in such a land." Had this series of disheartening experiments been carried on much further, I must have thrown aside the work in despair. But, at last, fortunately, as it proved, the thought occurred to me of founding a story on the fierce struggle so PREFACE. 21 long maintd ned between the Ghebers," or ancient Fire-wor- shippers of Persia, and their haughty Moslem masters. From that moment, a new and deep interest in my whole task took possession of me. The cause of tolerance was again my inspiring theme ; and the spirit that had spoken in the melo- dies of Ireland soon found itself at home in the East. Having thus laid open the secrets of the workshop to account for the time expended in writing this work, I must also, in justice to my own industry, notice the pains I took in long and laboriously reading for it. To form a store- house, as it were, of illustration purely Oriental, and so familiarize myself with its various treasures, that, as quick as Fancy required the aid of fact, in her spiritings, the memory was ready, like another Ariel, at her " strong. bidding," to furnish materials for the spell-work, — such was, for a long while, the sole object of my studies ; and whatever time and trouble this preparatory process may have cost me, the effects resulting from it, as far as the humble merit of truthfulness is concerned, ha^'e been such as to repay me more than suffi- ciently for my pains. I have not forgotten how great was my pleasure, when told by the late Sir James Mackintosh, that he was once asked by Colonel W s, the historian of British India, "whether it was true that Moore had never been m the East." "Never," answered Mackintosh. "Well, that * Voltaire, in his tragedy of " Les Guebres," written with a similar undei current of meaning, was accuserl of having transformed his Fire-worshippers into Jansenists: — "Quelqucs figuristes," he says, "prutendent que les Guebies 3ont les Jansenistes." 22 PREFACE. shows me," replied Colonel W s, "tJiat reading ove? D'Herbelot is as good as riding on the back of a camel." I need hardly subjoin to this lively speech, that although D'Herbelot's valuable work was, of course, one of my ma- nuals, I took the whole range of all such Oriental reading as was accessible to me ; and became, for the time, indeed, far more conversant with all relating to that distant region, than I have ever been with the scenery, productions, or modes of life of any of those countries lying most within my reach. We know that D'AnviEe, though never in his life out of Paris, was able to correct a number of errors in a plan of the Troad taken by De Choiseul, on the spot ; and, for my own very different, as well as far inferior, purposes, the knowledge I had thus acquired of distant localities, seen only by me in my day-dreams, was no less ready and useful. An ample reward for all this painstaking has been found in such welcome tributes as I have just now cited ; nor can I deny myself the gratification of citing a few more of the same description. From another distinguished authority on Eastern subjects, the late Sir John Malcolm, I had myself the pleasure of hearing a similar opinion publicly expressed ; — that eminent person, in a speech spoken by him at a Literary Fund Dinner, having remarked, that together with those qualities of the poet which he much too partially assigned to me, was combined also "the truth of the historian." Sir Wilham Ouseley another high authority, in giving his testimony to the same effect, thus notices an exception to the PREFACE. 33 general accuracy for which he gives me credit : — " Dazzled by the beauties of this composition,* few readers can perceive, and none surely can regret, that the poet, in his magnificent catastrophe, has forgotten, or boldly and most happily violated, the precept of Zoroaster, above noticed, which held it impious to consume any portion of a human body by fire, especially by that which glowed upon their altars." Having long lost, I fear, most of my Eastern learning, I can only cite, in defence of my catastrophe, an old Oriental tradition, which relates, that Nim- rod, when Abraliam refused, at his command, to worship the fire, ordered him to be thrown into the midst of the flames.'' A precedent so ancient for this sort of use of tl^ worshipped element, v.-ould appear, for all purposes at least of poetry, fully sufficient. In addition to these agreeable testimonies, I have also heai'd, and need hardly add, with some pride and pleasure, that parts of this work have been rendered into Persian, and have found their way to Ispahan. To this fact, as I am willing to think it, allusion is made in some lively verses, written many years since, by my friend, Mr. Luttrell : — "I'm told, dear Moore, your lays are sung, (Can it be true, you lucky man ?) By moonlight, in the Persian tongue, Along the streets of Ispahan." » The Fire-worshippers. ^ Tradunt autem Hebrcei hanc fabulam quod Abraham in ignem missus bii luia ignem adorare noluit. — St. Hiehox. in qiuest. i:i Genesm. Z4 PREFACE. That some knowledge of the work may ha\^e really reached that region, appears not improbable from a passage in the Travels of Mr. Frazer, who says, that " being delayed for some time at a town on the shores of the Caspian, he was lucky enough to be able to amuse himself wdth a copy of Lalla Rookh, w^iich a Persian had lent him." Of the description of Balbec, in "Paradise and the Peri," Mr. Carne, in his Letters from the East, thus speaks : " The description in Lalla Rookh of the plain and its ruins is exquisitely faithful. The minaret is on the declivity near at hand, and there wanted only the muezzin's cry to break the silence." I shall now tax my reader's patience with but one more of these generous vouchers. Whatever of vanity there may be in citing such tributes, they show^, at least, of what great value, even in poetry, is that prosaic quality, industry ; since, as the reader of the foregoing pages is now fully ap- prized, it was in a slow and laborious collection of small facts, that the first foundations of this fanciful Romance were laid. The friendly testimony I have just referred to, appeared, some years since, in the form in which I now give it, and, if I recollect right, in the Athenaeum : — " I embrace this opportunity of bearing my individual testimony (if it be of any value) to the extraordinary accuracy of Mr. ^loore, m his topographical, antiquarian, and charac PREFACE. 35 teristic details, whether of costume, manners, or less-changing monuments, both in his Lalla Rookh and in the Epicurean. It has been my fortune to read his Atlantic, Bermudean, ana American Odes and Epistles, in the countries and among the people to which and to whom they related ; 1 enjoyed also the exquisite delight of reading his Lalla Rookh, in Persia itself; and I have perused the Epicurean, while all my recol- lections of Egypt and its still existing wonders are as fresh as when I quitted the banks of the Nile for Arabia ; — I owe it, therefore, as a debt of gratitude, (though the payment is most inadequate,) for the great pleasure I have derived from his productions, to bear my humble testimony to their local fidelity. J. S. B." Among the incidents connected with this Ai'ork, I must not omit to notice the splendid Divertissement, founded upon it, which was acted at the Chateau Royal of Berlin, during the visit of the Grand Duke Nicholas to that capital, in the year 1822. The different stories composing the work were represented in Tableaux Vivans and songs ; and among the crowd of royal and noble personages engaged in the per- formances, I shall mention those only who represented the principal characters, and whom I find thus enumerated in the published account of the Divertissement. * * » li.alla Roukh, Divertissement mele de Chants et do Danses, Berlin, J822. The work contains a series of coloured engravings, representing groups, pro- cessions, &c., in different Oriental costumes. C 26 PREFACE. ' Fadladin, Grand-Nasir, . . . Comte Haack, (Marechal de Coiir.) Aliris, Roi tie Bucharie, ... S. ^. I. Le Grand Due. Lallah Rofikh, S.Jl.I.La Grand Duchcsse. Aurungzeb, le Grand Mogol, . S. Jl. H. Le Prince GuiUanme,fre'c du I\oi. Abdallah, Pere d' Aliris, . . . S.^. R. Le Due de Cumberland. La Reine, sm t-pouse, . . . S. A. R. La Princcsse Louise Radzivili." Besides these and oth^r leading personages, there were also brought into action, under the various denominations of Seigneurs et Dames de Bucharie, Dames de Cachemire, Seigneurs et Dames dansans a la Fete des Roses, &c., nearly one hundred and fifty persons. Of the manner and style in which the Tableaux of the different stories are described in the work from which I cite, the following account of the performance of Paradise and the Peri will afford some specimen : — " La decoration representoit les portes brillantes du Paradis, entourees de nuages. Dans le premier tableau on voyoit la Peri, triste et desolce, couchee sur le seuil des portes fermees, et I'Ange de lumiere qui lui adresse des consolations et des conseils. Le second represente le moment, ou la Peri, dans I'espoir que ce don lui ouvrira Fentree du Paradis recueille la derniere goutte de sang que vient de verser le jeune guerrier Indien " La Peri et I'Ange de lumiere repondoient pleinement a I'lmage et a I'idee qu'on est tente de se faire de ces deux mdividus, et I'impression qu'a faite generalement la suite des tableaux de cet episode delicat et interessant est loin de s'efTacer de notre souvenir." PREFACE. 27 In tills gi-and Fete it appears, originated the translation of Lalla Rookti into German verse, by the Baron de la Motte Fouque ; and the circumstances \vhich led him to undertake the task, are described by himself, in a Dedicatory Poem to the Empress of Russia, which he has prefixed to his transla- tion. As soon as the performance, he tells us, had ended, Lalla Rookli (the Empress herself) exclaimed, with a sigh, "Is it, then, all over? are we now at the close of all that has given us so much delight ? and lives there no poet who will impart to others, and to future times, some notion of the happiness we have enjoyed this evening?" On hearing this appeal, tlie Knight of Cashmere (who is no other than the poetical Bai'on himself) comes forward and promises to attempt to present to the world "the Poem itself in the measure of the original :" — whereupon Lalla Rookh, it 13 added, approvingly smiled. LALLA EOOKH. In the eleventh year of the reign of Aurungzebe, Abdalla, K jg of the Lesser Bucharia, a Hneal descendant from the G.eat Zingis, having abdicated the throne in favour of his son, set out on a pilgrimage to the Shrine of the Prophet ; and, passing into India through the delightful valley of Cashmere_, rested for a short time at Delhi ' on his way. He was enter tained by Aurungzebe in a style of magnificent hospitality, worthy alike of the visiter and the host, and was afterwards escorted M-ith the same splendour to Surat, where he embarked for Arabia.* During the sta}' of the Royal Pilgrim at Delhi, a marriage w?.s agreed upon between the Prince, his son, and the youngest daughter of the Emperor, Lalla Rookh;' — a Prmcess described by the poets of her time as more beautiful •These particulars of the \'isit of the King of Bucharia to Aurungzebe are found in Daw's History of Hindostaii, vol. iii. p. 392. 'I Tulip cheek. c2 90 30 LALLA ROOKH. than Leila," Sliirine," Dewilde," or any of those heromes whose names and loves embellish the songs of Persia and Hindostan. It was intended that the nuptials should be celebrated at Cashmere ; W'here the young King, as soon as the cares of empire would permit, was to meetj for the first time, his lovely bride, and, after a few months' repose in that enchanting valley, conduct her over the snowy hills into Bucharia. The day of Lalla Rookh's departure from Delhi was as splendid as sunshine and pageantry could make it. Tht bazaars and baths were all covered with the richest tapestry ; hundreds of gilded barges upon the Jumna floated wath their banners shining in the water ; while through the streets groups of beautiful children went strewing the most delicious floweis around, as in that Persian festival called the Scattering of the Roses ;* till every part of the city was as fragrant as if a caravan of musk from Khoten had passed through it. The Princess, having taken leave of her kind father, who at parting hung a cornelian of Yemen round her neck, on which was inscribed a verse from the Koran, and having sent a consider- able present to the Fakirs, who kept up the Perpetual Lamp in her sister's tomb, meekly ascended the palankeen prepared * The mistrefes of Mcjnoun, upon whose story so many Romances in all the languages of the East are founded. b For the loves of this celebrated beauty with Khosrou and with Ferhad, see D^Herbclot, Gibbon, Oriental Collections, &c. <= " The history of the loves of Dewilde and Chizer, the son of the Emperor Alia, is written in an elegant poem, by the noble Chusero." — Ferishta. ^ Gul Reazee. L A L L A R O K H. 31 for her ; and, while Aurungzebe stood to take a last look from his balcony, the procession moved slowly on the road to Liiliore. Seldom had the Eastern world seen a cavalcade so superb. From the gardens in the suburbs to the Imperial palace, it was one unbroken line of splendour. The gallant appearance of the Rajahs and Mogul lords, distinguished by those insignia of the Emperor's favour," the feathers of the egret of Cash- mere, in their turbans, and the small silver-rimmed kettle-drums at the bows of their saddles ; — the costly armour of their cava- liers, who vied, on this occasion, with the guards of the great Keder Khan,*" in the brightness of their silver battle-axes and the massiness of their maces of gold ; — the glittering of the gilt pine-apples" on the tops of the palankeens ; — the embroidered '"One mark of honour or kniglithood bestowed by the Emperor is the permission to wear a small kettle-drum at the bows of their saddles, which at first was invented for the training of hawks, and to call them to the lure, and is worn in the field by all sportsmen to that end." — Frycr^s Travels. « I'hose on whom the King has conferred the privilege must wear an orna- ment of jewels on the right side of the turban, surmounted by a high plume of the feathers of a kind of egret. This bird is found only in Cashmere, and the feathers are carefully collected for the King, who bestows them on his nobles.'' — Elphinsfone's Account of Caubul. '' " Khedar Khan, the Khakan, or King of Turquestan beyond me Gihon, (at the end of the eleventh century,) whenever he appeared abroad, was pre- ceded by seven hundred horsemen with silver battle-axes, and was followed by an eaual number bearing maces of gold. He was a great patron of poetry, and it was he who used to preside at public exercises of genius, with four basins of gold and silver b)^ him to distribute among the poets who excelled." — Richard' som's Dissertation prefixed to his Dictionary. « " The kubdeh, a large golden knob, generally in the shape of a pine-apple, 32 L A L L A R O K H. trappings of the elephants, bearing on their backs small turrets, in the shape of little antique temples, Avithin which the Ladies of Lalla Rookii lay as it were enshrined ; — the rose-coloured veils of the Princess's own sumptuous litter," at the front of which a fair young female slave sat fanning her through the curtains, with feathers of the Argus pheasant's wing;'' — and the lovely troop of Tartarian and Cashmerian nmids of honour, whom the young King had sent to accompany Iiis bride, and who rode on each side of the litter, upon small Arabian horses; — all was brilliant, tasteful, and magnificent, and pleased even the critical and fastidious Fadladeen, Great Nazir or Chamberlain of the Haram, who was borne in his palankeen immediately after the Princess, and con- sidered himself not the least important personage of the pageant. Fadladeen was a judge of every thing, — from the pencil- ling of a Circassian's eyelids to the deepest questions of on the top of the canopy over the litter or palanquin." — Scotl's Notes on the Bahardanush. a In the Poem of Zohair, in the Moallakat, there is the following lively de scription of " a company of maidens seated on camels." "They are mounted in carriages covered with costly awnings, and with rose-coloured veils, the linings of which have the hue of crimson Andem- wood. " When they ascend from the bosom of the vale, they sit forward on the saddle-cloth, with every mark of a voluptuous gayety. " Now, when they have reached the brink of yon blue-gushing rivulet, they fix the poles of their tents like the Arab with a settled mansion.' ' See Eernier's description of the attendants on Rauchanara-Begum, in hei progress to Cashmere. L A L L A R O K H. 33 science nnd literature ; from the mixture of a conserve of rose- leaves to the composition of an epic poem : and such influence had his opinion upon the various tastes of the day, that all the cooks and poets of Dellii stood in awe of him. His l)olitical conduct and opinions were founded upon that line of Sadi, — " Should the Prince at noonday say, It is night, declai'e that you behold the moon and stars." — And his zeal for religion, of which Aurungzebe was a magnificent pro- tector,'' was about as disinterested as that of the goldsmith who fell in love with the diamond eyes of the idol of Jaghernaut.'' During the first days of their journey, Lalla Rookh, who had passed all her life within the shadow of the Royal Gardens of Delhi," found enough in the beauty of the scenery » This hypocritical Emperor would have made a worthy associate of certain Holy Leagues. — « He held the cloak of religion (says Dow) between his actions and the vulgar ; and impiously thanked the Divinity for a success which he owed to his own wickedness. When he was murdering and persecuting his brothers and their families, he was building a magnificent mosque at Delhi, as an offer- ing to God for his assistance to him in the civil wars. He acted as high priest at the consecration of this temple ; and made a practice of attending divino service there, in the humble dress of a Fakeer. But when he lifted one hand to the Divinity, he, with the other, signed warrants for the assassination of his relations." — Ilislori/ of Hbidostan, vol. iii. p. 335. See also the curious letter of Aurungzebe, given in the Oriental Collections, vol. i. p. 320. '' " The idol at Jaghcrnat has two fine diamonds for eyes No goldsmith la suffered to enter the Pagoda, one having stole one of these eyes, being locked up all night with the idol." — Tavernicr, ' See a description of these royal Gardens in "An account of the present State of Delhi by Lieutenant W. Franklin." — Jisial. Research, voL iv. d 417 34 L A L L A R O O K H. through ^vhich they passed to interest her mind, and dehght her imagination ; and when at evening, or in the heat of the day, they turned off from the high road to those retired and romantic places which had been selected 'for her encamp- ments, sometimes on the banks of a small rivulet, as clear as the waters of the Lake of Pearl ; * sometimes under the sacred shade of a Banyan tree, from which the view opened upon a glade covered with antelopes ; and often in those hidden, embowered spots, described by one from the Isles of tlie West," as places of melancholy, delight, and safety, where all the company around was wild peacocks and turtle- doves ; — she felt a charm in these scenes, so lovely and so new to her, which, for a time, made her indifferent to every other amusement. But Lalla Rookh was young, and the young love variety ; nor could the conversation of her Ladies and the Great Chamberlain Fadladeen, (the only persons, of course, admitted to her pavilion,) sufficiently enliven those many vacant hours, which w^ere devoted neither to the pillow nor the palankeen. There wa^ a little Persian slave who sung sweetly to the Vina, and w^ho, now and then, lulled the Princess to sleep with the ancient ditties of her * "In the neighbourhood is Notte Gill, or the Lake of Pearl, which receives this name from its pellucid water." — Pcivianfs Hindostan. "Nasir Jung, encamped in the vicinity of the Lake of Tonoor, amused Iiims^lf with sailing on that clear and beautiful water, and gave it the fancilul name of Motce Talah, 'the Lake of Pearls,' which it still retains." — Wil/cs't South of Lrdia. <> Sir Thomas Roe, Ambassador from James L to Jehangiiire. L A L L A R O K H. 35 country, about the loves of Wamak and Ezra," the fair- haired Zal and his mistress Rodahver./ not forgetting the combat of Rustam with the terrible White Demon." At other times she was amused by those graceful dancing-girls of Dellii, who had been permitted by the Bramins of the Great Pagoda to attend her, much to the horror of the gooG Mussulman Fadladeen, w^ho could see nothing graceful or agreeable in idolaters, and to whom the very tinkling of their golden anklets * was an abomination. * "The romance Wemakweazra, Avritten in Persian verse, which contains the loves of Wamak and Ezra, two celehrated lovers who lived before the time of Mahomet." — Note on the Oriental Tales. ^ Their amour is recounted in the Shah-Nameh of Ferdousi ; and there is much beauty in the passage which describes the slaves of Rodahver sitting on the bank of the river and throwing flowers into the stream, in order to draw the attention of the young Hero who is encamped on the opposite side. — See ChampiovLS translation. ■= Rustam is the Hercules of the Persians. For the particulars of his \-ic- tory over the Sepeed Deeve, or White Demon, see Oriental Collections, vol. ii. p. 45. — Near the city of Shirauz is an immense quadrangular monument, in commemoration of this combat, called the Kelaat-i-Deev Sepeed, or Castle of the White Giant, which Father Angelo, in his Gazophilacium Persicum, p. 127, declares to have been the most memorable monument of antiquity which he had seen in Persia. — See Ouselet/s Persian Miscellanies ■i^'The women of the Idol, or dancing-girls of the Pagoda, have little golden bells, fastened to their feet, the soft, harmonious tinkling of which vibrates in unison with the exquisite melody of their voices." — Maurice'i Indian Antiquities. "The Arabian courtesans, hke the Indian women, have little golden bells fastened round their legs, neck, ajid elbows, to the sound of which they dance before the King. The Arabian princesses wear golden rings on their fingers, to which Uttle bells are suspended, as well as in the flowing tresses of their hair, that their superior rank may be known, and they themselves receive in passing the homage due to them." — See Calmel's Dictionary art. Bells. 38 L A L L A R O K H. But these and many other diversions were repeated til] they lost all their charm, and the nights and noondays were beginning to move heavily, when, at length, it was recol- lected that, among the attendants sent by thu bridegroom, was a young poet of Cashmere, much celebrated throughout the Valley for his manner of reciting the Stories of the East, on whom his Royal Master had conferred the privilege of being admitted to the pavilion of the Princess, that he might help to beguile the tediousness of the' journey, by some of his most agreeable recitals. At the mention of a poet, Fadladeen elevated his critical eyebrows, and, having re- freshed his faculties wdth a dose of that delicious opium " which is distilled from the black poppy of the Thebais, gave orders for the minstrel to be forthwith introduced into the presence. The Princess, who had once in her life seen a poet from behind the screens of gauze in her Father's hall, and had conceived from that specimen no very favourable ideas of the Caste, expected but little in this new exhibition to interest her ; — she felt inclined, however, to alter her opinion on the very first appearance of Feramorz. He was a youth about Lalla Rookh's own age, and graceful as that idol of women, Crishna,'' — -.such as he appears to their young "Abou-Tig-e, ville de la Thebaide, ou il croit beaucoiip de pavot noir, lont se fait le mcilleur opium." — D'Hcrbclot. ^ The Indian Apollo. — " He and the three Rimas are descriled as youttis L A L L A R K H. 37 imaginations, heroic, beautiful, breathing music from his very eyes, and exalting the religion of his worshippers into love. His dress was simple, yet not without some marks of costliness : and the Ladles of the Princess were not Ions in discovering that the cloth, which encircled his high Tar- tarian cap, was of the most delicate kind that the shawl-goats of Tibet supply.* Here and there, too, over his vest, which was confined by a flowered girdle of Kashan, hung strings of fine pearl, disposed with an air of studied negligence ; — nor did the exquisite embroidery of his sandals escape the observation of these fair critics ; who, however they might give way to Fadladeen upon the unimportant topics of religion and government, had the spirit of martyrs in every thing relating to such momentous matters as jewels and embroidery. For the purpose of relieving the pauses of recitation by music, the young Cashmerian held in his hand a kitar; — such as, in old times, the Arab maids of the West used to listen to by moonlight in the gardens of the Alhambra— and, having premised, with much humility, that the slory he was about to relate was founded on the adventures of of perfect beauty; and the princesses of Hindustan were all passionately in love with Crishna, who continues to this hour the darling God of the Indian women." — Sir W. Jones, on the Gods of Greece, Italy, and India. * See Turner^s Embassy for a description of this animal, " tlic most beautiful among the whole ti-ibe of goats." The material for the shawls (wliich is car* ried to Cashmere) is found next the skm. D 38 L A L L A R K H. tliat Veiled Prophet of Kliorassan,^ who, in the year of the Hegira 163, created such alarm throughout the Eastern Em- pire, made an obeisance to the Princess, and thus began: ■ For the real history of this Impostor, whose original name was Hakem Den Hascljem, and who was called Mocanna from the veil of silver gauze ior, as others say, golden) which he al^vays wore, see D'Herbelot. THE VEILED PKOPHET OF KHOllASSAN.- In that delightful Province of the Sun, The first of Persian lands he shines upon, Where all the loveliest children of his beam, Flowerets and fruits, blush over every stream,* And, fairest of all streams, the Mubga roves Among IMerou's" bright palaces and groves ; — There on that throne, to which the blind belief Of millions raised him, sat the Prophet-Chief, The Great Mokanna. O'er his features hung The Veil, the Silver Veil, which he had flung In mercy there, to hide from mortal sight His dazzling brow, till man could bear its light. For, far less luminous, his votaries said, Were ev'n the gleams, miraculously shed * Khorassan signifies, in the old Persian language, Province or Region of the Sun. — Sir W. Jones. ^ « The fruits of Meru are finer than those of any other place ; and one cannot see in any other city such palaces, with groves, and streams, and gardens." — Ebti Haukal's Geography. ' One of the royal cities of Khorassan. iO L A L L A R U K H. O'er Moussa's* cheek," when down the Mount he trod, Al] glowing from the presence of his God ! . On either side, with ready hearts and hands. His chosen guard of bold Believers stands ; Young fire-eyed disputants, who deem their swords, On points of faith, more eloquent than words ; And such their zeal, there's not a youth with brand Uplifted there, but, at the Chief's command, Would make his own devoted heart its sheath, And bless the lips that doomed so dear a death ! In hatred to the Caliph's hue of night," Their vesture, helms and all, is snowy white ; Their weapons various — some equipped, for speed, With javelins of the light Kathaian reed ; ^ Or bows of buffalo-horn and shining quivers Filled with the stems ^ that bloom on Iran's rivers ; ^ » Moses. i) " Ses disciples assuroient qu'il se couvroit le visage, pour ne pas eblouir ceux qui I'approchoient par I'eclat de son visage comme Moyse." — D' Herbclot. ' Black was the colour adopted by the Caliphs of the House of Abbas, in their garments, turbans, and standards. — "II faut remarquer ici touchanc les habits Wanes des disciples de Hakem, que la couleur des habits, des coeffures et des etendarts des Khalifes Abassides etant la noire, ce chef de Rebelles ne pou- voit pas choisir u\; qui lui fut plus opposee." — D'Hcrbehf. ^ « Our dark javelins, exquisitely wrought of Khathaian reeds, slender and delicate." — Poem of Amru, « Pichula, used anciently for arrows by the Persians. f The Persians call this plant Gaz. The celebrated shaft of Isfendiar, one of their ancient heroes, was made of it. — " Nothing can be more beautiful than the appearance of tliis plant in flower durmg the rains on the banks of rivera, VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 41 While some, for war's more terrible attacks, Wield the huge mace and ponderous battle-axe ; And as they wave aloft in morning's beam The milk-white plumage of their helms, they seem Like a chenar-tree grove " when winter throv/s O'er all its tufted heads his feathering snows. Between the porphyry pillars, that uphold The rich moresque-work of the roof of gold, Aloft the Haram's curtained galleries rise, Where through the silken network, glancing eyes. From time to time, like sudden gleams that glow Through autumn clouds, shine o'er the pomp below. — What impious tongue, ye blushing saints, would dare To hint that aught but Heaven hath placed you there .'' Or that the loves of this light world could bind. In their gross chain, your Prophet's soaring mind ? No — wrongful thought ! — commissioned from above To people Eden's bowers with shapes of love, (Creatures so bright, that the same lips and eyes They wear on earth will serve in Paradise,) There to recline among Heaven's native maids. And crown th' Elect with bliss that never fades — where it is usually interwoven with a lovely twining asclepias." — Sir W. Jones, Botanical Observations on 8clect Indian Plants. » The oriental plane. " The chenar is a delightful tree ; its bole is of a fine white and smooth bark ; and its foliage, which grows in a tuft at the summit fe of a bright green." — Morier's Travels. s2 42 L A L L A R K H. Well hath the Prophet-Chief his bidding done ; And every beauteous race beneath the sun, From those who kneel at Brahma's burning founts, * To the fresh nymphs bounding o'er Yemen's mounts ; From Persia's eyes of full and fawn-like ray, To the small, half-shut glances of K^thay : '' And Georgia's bloom, and Azab's darker smiles. And the gold ringlets of the Western Isles ; All, all are there ; — each Land its flower hath given, To form that fair young Nursery for Heaven ! But why this pageant now ? this armed array ? What triumph crowds the rich Divan to-day With turbaned heads, of every hue and race, Bowing before that veiled and awful face. Like tulip-beds,'= of different shape and dyes, Bending beneath th' invisible West- wind's sighs . What new-made mystery now, for Faith to sign, And blood to seal, as genuine and divine. What dazzling mimicry of God's own power Hath the bold Prophet planned to grace this hour ? s The burning fountains of Brahma near Chittogong, esteemed as holy.— . Turner. b China. « « The name of tulip is said to be of Turkish extraction, and given to the flower on account of its resembling a turban." — Beckmannh History of la Tentions. VEILED PROPHET OFKHORASSAN. 43 Not such tlie pageant now, though not less proud • Yon warrior youth, advancing from the crowd, With silver bow, with belt of broidered crape, And fur-bound bonnet of Bucharian shape,'' So fiercely beautiful in form and eye. Like war's wild planet in a summer sky ; That youth to day, — a proselyte, worth hordes Of cooler spirits and less practised swords, — Is come to join, all bravery and belief. The creed and standard of the heaven-sent Chief. Though few his years, the West already knows Young Azim's fame ; — beyond th' Olympian snows, Ere manhood darkened o'er his downy cheek, O'erwhelmed in fight and captive to the Greek,' He lingered there, till peace dissolved his chains ; — O, who could, even in bondage, tread the plains Of glorious Greece, nor feel his spirit rise Kindling within him ? who, with heart and eyes, Could wallc where Liberty had been, nor see The shining footprints of her Deity, Nor feel those godlike breathing's in the air, W^hich mutely told her spirit had been there ? a " The inhabitants of Bucharia wear a round cloth bonnet, shaped much after the PoUsh fashion, having a large fur border. They tie their kaftans about the middle with a girdle of a kind of silk crape, several times round the body."— Account of Independent Tartary, in Pinkertoit's Collection. ^ In the war of the Caliph Mahadi against tlic Emperor Irene, for an accouaJ of which vide Gibbon, vol. x. 44 LALLAROOKH. Not he, that youtliful warrior, — no, too well For his soul's quiet worked the awakening spell ; And now, returning to his own dear land, Full of those dreams of good that, vainly grand. Haunt the young heart, — proud views of human-kin ', Of men to Gods exalted and refined, — False views, like that horizon's fair deceit. Where earth and heaven but seeniy alas, to meet ! — Soon as he heard an Arm Divine was raised To right the nations, and beheld, emblazed On the white flag Mokanna's host unfurled, Those words of sunshine, "Freedom to the World," At once his faith, his sword, his soul obeyed Th' inspiring summons ; every chosen blade That fought beneath that banner's sacred text Seemed doubly edged, for this world%nd the next • And ne'er did Faith with her smooth bandage bind Eyes more devoutly willing to be blind, In virtue's cause ; — never was soul inspired With livelier trust in what it most desired. Than his, th' enthusiast there, who kneeling, pale With pious awe, before that Silver Veil, Believes the form, to which he bends his knee, Some pure, redeeming angel, sent to free This fettered world from every bond and stain, And bring its primal glories back again" VEILED PKOPHET OF KHORASSAN. 4^ Low as young Azim knelt, that motley crowd Of all earth's nations sunk the knee and bowed, \^'ith shouts of "Alla!" echoinfy long^ and loud : While high in air, above the Prophet's head, Hundreds of banners, to the sunbeam spread. Waved, like the wings of the white birds that fan The flying throne of star-taught Soliman." Then thus he spoke ; — " Stranger, though new the frame " Thy soul inhabits now, I've tracked its flame "For many an age,*" in every chance and change " Of that existence, through whose varied range, — "As through a torch-race, where, from hand to hand, " The flying youths transmit their shining brand, — "From frame to frame the unextinguished soul " Rapidly passes, till it reach the goal! " Nor think 'tis only the gross Spirits, warmed "With duskier fire and for earth's medium formed, » This wonderful Throne was called 'J"he Star of the Genii. For a full de scription of it, see the Fragment, translated by Captain Franklin, from a Persian MS. entitled « The History of Jerusalem," Oriental Collections, t: . .. p. 235. — When Soliman travelled, the Eastern writers say, "He had a carpet of green silk on which his throne was placed, being of a prodigious length and breadth, and sufficient for all his forces to stand upon, the men placing themselves on his right hand, and the spirits on his left; and that when all were in order, the wind, at his command, took up the carpet, and transported it, with all that were upon it, wherever he pleased ; the army of birds at the same time flying ovei their heads, and forming a kind of canopy to shade them from the sun." — SaWt Koran, vol. ii. p. 214, note. ' The transmigration of souls was one of his doctrines. Vide D'Hcrhdot. 46 LALLAKOOKH. " That run this course ; — Beings, the most divine, " Thus deign through dark mortahty to shine. " Such was the Essence that in Adam dwelt, " To which all Heaven, except tlie Proud One, knelt :• •' Such the refined Intelligence that glowed "In Moussa's*" frame, — and, thence descending, flowed "Through many a Prophet's breast; " — in Issa*^ shone, " And in Mohammed burned ; till, hastening on, " (As a bright river, that from fall to fall "In many a maze descending, bright through all, "Finds some fair region where, each labyrinth past, "In one full lake of light it rests at last,) " That Holy Spirit, settling calm and free " From lapse or shadow, centres all in me !" Again, throughout th' assembly, at these words, Thousands of voices rung : the warriors' swords Were pointed up to heaven: a sudden wind In th' open banners played, and from behind *«And when we said unto the angels, Worship Adam, they all worshipped Kim except Eblis, (Lucifer,) who refused." The Koran, chap. ii. ** Moses. <= This is according to D'Herbelot's account of the doctrines of Mokanna: — « Sa doctrine etoit, que Dieu avoit pris une forme et figure humaine, depuis qu'il eut commande aux Anges d'adorer Adam, le premier des hommes. Qu'apres la mort d'Adam, Dieu etoit apparu sous la figure de plusieurs Pro- phctes, et autres grands hommes qu'il avoit choises, jusqu'a ce qu'il prit celle d'Abu Moslem, Prince de Khorassan, lequel professoit I'erreur de la Tenas- sukhiah ou Metempsychose ; et qu'apres la mort de ce Prince, la Divinita etoit passee, et descendue en sa personne." d Jesus. VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 47 Those Persian hangings, that but ill could screen The Haram's loveliness, white hands were seen Waving embroidered scarves, whose motion gave A perfume forth — like those the Houris wave When beckonins: to their bowers th' immortal Brave. "But these," pursued the Chief, "are truths sublime, " That claim a holier mood and calmer time "Than earth allows us now; — this sword must first "The darkling prison-house of Mankind burst, "Ere Peace can visit them, or Truth let in " Her wakening daylight on a world of sin. "But then, — celestial warriors, then, when all " Earth's shrines and thrones before our banner fall ; "When the glad Slave shall at these feet lay dowi^ " His broken chain, the tyrant Lord his crov>'n, " The Priest his book, the Conqueror his wreath, " And from the lips of Truth one mighty breath " Shall, like a whirlwind, scatter in its breeze "That whole dark pile of human mockeries: — " Then shall the reign of mind commence on earth, "And starting fresh as from a second birth, "Man, in the sunshine of the world's new spring, " Shall walk transparent, like some holy thing! " Then, too, your Prophet from his angel brow " Shall cast the Veil that hides its splendours now, 48 L A L L A R K H. " And gladdened Earth shall, through her wide expanse, < Bask in tlie glories of this countenance ! &* " For thee, }t)ung warrior, welcome ! — thou hast yet " Some tasks to learn, some frailtie? to forget, "Ere the white war-plume o'er thy brow can wave; — "But, once my own, mine all till in the grave '" The pomp is at an end — the crowds are gone- Each ear and heart still haunted by the tone Of that deep voice, which thrilled like Alla's own! The Young all dazzled by the plumes and lances, The glittering throne, and Haram's half-caught- glances ; The Old deep pondering on the promised reign Of peace and trutli ; and all the female train Ready to risk their eyes, could they but gaze A moment on that brow's miraculous blaze! But there was one, among the chosen maids^ Who blushed behind the gallery's silken shades, One, to whose soul the pageant of to-day Has been like death ! — you saw her pale dismay, Ye wondering sisterhood, and heard the burst Of exclamation from her lips, when first She saw that youth, too well, too dearly known, Silently kneelmg at the Prophet's throne. S II a S € Ao \ sa^r hei pale dismay. Ye wondenng sisterhood, and lieaid. the buist Of exclamation fiom hex lips, -when first She saw '^ ' • ■•'' * T-'i "-o dearly kiT-^wii ?i^-fi;lv : -fs throne " VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 49 Ah Zelica ! there was a time, when bhss Shone o'er thy heart from every look of his; When but to see him, hear him, breathe the air, In which he dwelt, w^as thy soul's fondest prayer ; When round him hung such a perpetual spell, Whate'er he did, none ever did so well. Too happy days ! when, if he touched a flower Or gem of thine, 'twas sacred from that hour ; When thou didst study him till every tone And gesture and dear look became thy own. — Thy voice like his, the changes of his face In thine reflected with still lovelier grace. Like echo, sending back sweet music, fraught With twice th' aerial sweetness it had brought ! Yet now he comes, — brighter than even he E'er beamed before, — but, ali! not bright for thee. No — dread, unlooked for, like a visitant From th' other world, he comes as if to haunt Thy guilty soul with dreams of lost delight. Long lost to all but memory's aching sight ; — Sad dreams ! as when the Spirit of our Youth Returns in sleep, sparkling with all the truth And innocence once ours, and leads us back, In mournful mockery, o'er the shining track Of our young life, and points out every ray Of hope and peace we've lost upon the way! ^0 LALLAROOKH. Once happy pair ! — In proud Bokhara's groves, Who had not heard of their first youthful loves ? Born by that ancient flood," which from its spring > In the Dark Mountains swiftly wandering, Enriched by every pilgrim brook that shines With relics from Bucharia's ruby mines, And, lending to the Caspian half its strength, In the cold Lake of Eagles sinks at length ; — There, on the banks of that bright river born. The flowers, that hung above its wave at morn, Blessed not the waters, as they murmured by, With holier scent and lustre, than the sigh And virgin-glance of first aflTection cast Upon their youth's smooth current, as it passed ! But war disturbed this vision, — far aw^ay From her fond eyes summoned to join th' array Of Persia's w^arriors on the hills of Thrace, The youth exchanged his sylvan dwelling-place For the rude tent and war-field's deathful clash His Zelica's sweet glances for the flash Of Grecian wild-fire, and Love's gentle chains For bleeding bondage on Byzantium's plains. Month after month, in widowhood of soul Drooping, the maiden saw two summers roll a The Amoo, which rises in the Bekir Tag, or Dark Mountains, and run. ning nearly from cast to west, splits into two branches ; one of which falls inw the Caspian Sea, and the other into Aral Nahr, or the Lake of Eagles. VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN pj Their suns away — but, ah, how cold and dim Ev'n summer suns, when not beheld with him ! From time to time ill-omened rumours came, Like spirit-tongaies, muttering the sick man's name. Just ere he dies ; — at lenglh those sounds of dread Fell withering on her soul, " Azim is dead!" Grief, beyond all other griefs, when fate First leaves the young heart lone and desolate In the wide world, without that only tie For which it loved to live or feared to die ; — Lorn as the hung-up lute, that ne'er hath spoken Since the sad day its master- chord was broken ' Fond maid, the sorrow of her soul was such, Ev'n reason sunk, — blighted beneath its touch ; And though, ere long, her sanguine spirit rose Above the first dead pressure of its woes. Though health and bloom returned, the delicate chain Of thought, once tangled, never cleared again. Warm, lively, soft as in youth's happiest day. The mind was still all there, but turned astray ; — A wandering bark, upon whose pathway shone All stars of heaven, except the guiding one ! Again she smiled, nay, much and brightly smiled, But 'twas a lustre, strange, unreal, wild ; And when she sung to her lute's touching strain, 'Twas like the notes, half ecstasy, half pain, 52 LALLAROOKH. The bulbul " utters, ere her soul depart, When, vanquished by some minstrel's powerful art, She dies upon the lute whose sweetness broke her heart ! Such was the mood in which that mission found Young Zelica, — that mission, which around The Eastern world, in every region blessed With woman's smile, sought out its loveliest, To grace that galaxy of lips and eyes Which the Veiled Prophet destined for the skies ; — And such quick welcome as a spark receives Dropped on a bed of Autumn's withered leaves. Did every tale of these enthusiasts find In the wild maiden's sorrow-blighted mind. All fire at once the maddening zeal she caught ; — Elect of Paradise ! blest, rapturous thought ! Predestined bride, in heaven's eternal dome, Of some brave youth — ^ha! durst they say " of some?'* No — of the one, one only object, traced In her heart's core too deep to be eflfaced ; The one Vnose memory, fresh as life, is twmed With every broken link of her lost mind ; Whose image lives, though Reason's self be wrecked, Safe 'mid the ruins of her intellect ! » The nightingale. VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. Alas, poor Zelica ! it needed all The fantasy, which held thy mind in thrall. To see in that gay Haram's glowing maids, A sainted colony for Eden's shades ; Or dream that he, of whose unholy flame Thou wert too soon the victim, — shining came From Paradise, to people its pure sphere With souls like thine, which he hath ruined here! No — had not reason's light totally set, And left thee dark, thou hadst an amulet In the loved image, graven on thy heart. Which would have saved thee from the tempter's art, And kept alive, in all its bloom of breath. That purity, whose fading is love's death! — But lost, inflamed, — a restless zeal took place Of the mild virgin's still and feminine grace ; First of the Prophet's favourites, proudly first In zeal and charms, — too well th' Impostor nursed Her soul's delirium, in whose active flame. Thus lighting up a young, luxuriant frame. He saw more potent sorceries to bind To his dark yoke the spirits of mankind. More subtle chains than hell itself e'er twined. No art was spared, no witchery ; — all the skill His demons taught him was employed to fill Her mind with gloom and ecstasy by turns — That gloom, tlirough which Frenzy but fiercer burns ; 54 LALLAROOKH. That ecstasy, which from the depth of sadness Glares like the maniac's moon, whose light is madness ' 'Twas from a brilliant banquet, where the sound Of poesy and music breathed around. Together picturing to her mind and ear The glories of that heaven, her destined sphere, Where all was pure, where every stain that lay Upon the spirit's light should pass away, And, realizing more than youthful love E'er wished or dreamed, she should for ever rove Through fields of fragrance by her Azim's side, His own blessed, purified, eternal bride ! — 'Twas from a scene, a witching trance like this, He hurried her away, yet breathing bliss. To the dim charnel-house ; — through all its steams Of damp and death, led only by those gleams Which foul Corruption lights, as with design To show the gay and proud she too can shine — And, passing on through upright ranks of Dead, Which to the maiden, doubly crazed by dread, Seemed, through the bluish death-light round them cast, To move their lips in mutterings as she passed — There, in that awful place, when each had quaffed And pledged in silence such a fearful draught. Such — ! the look and taste of that red bowl Will haunt her till she dies — he bound her soul VEILED PROPHET OF KHOiiASSAN. 55 By a dark oath, In hell's own language framed, Never, while earth his mystic presence claimed, While tlie blue arch of day hung o'er them both. Never, by that all-imprecating oath. In joy or sorrow from his side to sever. She swore, and the wide charnel echoed, " Never, never !" From that dread hour, entirely, wildly given To him and — she believed, lost maid ! — to heaven , Her brain, her heart, her passions all inflamed. How proud she stood, when in full Haram named The Priestess of the Faith ! — how flashed her eyes With light, alas ! that was not of the skies. When round, in trances, only less than hers, She saw the Haram kneel, her prostrate worshippers. Well might JMokanna tliink that form alone Had spells enough to make the world his own : — Light, lovely limbs, to which the spirit's play Gave motion, airy as the dancing spray. When from its stem the small bird wings away ; Lips, in whose rosy labyrinth, when she smiled, The soul was lost ; and blushes, swift and wild As are the momentary meteors sent Across th' uncalm, but beauteous firmament. And then her look — ! where's the heart so wise Could unbewildered meet those matchless eyes ? 56 L A L L A R O K H. Quick, restless, strange, but exquisite withal, Like those of angels, just before their fall ; Now shadowed with the shames of earth — now crossed By glimpses of the heaven her heart had lost ; In every glance there broke, without control. The flashes of a bright but troubled soul, Where sensibility still wildly played, Like lightning, round the ruins it had made ! And such was now young Zelica — so changed From her who, some years since, dehghted ranged The almond groves that shade Bokhara's tide. All life and bliss, with Azim by her side ! So altered was she now, this festal day. When, 'mid the proud Divan's dazzling array, The vision of that Youth whom she had loved. Had wept as dead, before her breathed and moved ; — When — bright, she thought, as if from Eden's track But half-way trodden, he had wandered back Again to earth, glistening with Eden's light — Her beauteous Azim shone before her sight. Reason ! who shall say what spells renew, When least we look for it, thy broken clew ! Through what small vistas o'er the darkened brain Thy intellectual daybeam bursts again ; VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 57 And how, like forts, to which beleaguerers win Unhoped-for entrance through some friend w^idiin. One clear idea, wakened in the breast By memory's magic, lets in all the rest. Would it were thus,- unhappy girl, with thee ! But though light came, it came but partially ; Enough to show the maze, in which thy sense Wandered about, — but not to guide it thence ; Enough to glimmer o'er the yawning wave. But not to point the harbour which might save. Hours of delight and peace, long left behind,. With that dear form came rushing o'er her mind ; But ! to think how deep her soul had gone In shame and falsehood since those moments shone ; And then, her oath — there madness lay again, And, shuddering, back she sunk into her chain Of mental darkness, as if blessed to flee From light, whose every glimpse was agony ! Yet, one relief this glance of former years Brought, mingled with its pain, — tears, floods of tears, Long frozen at her heart, but now like rills Let loose in spring-time from the snowy hills, And gushing warm, after a sleep of frost. Through valleys where their flow had long been lost. Sad and subdued, for the first time her frame Trembled with horror, when the summons came 58 L A L L A R K H. (A summons proud and rare, which all but she, And she, till now, had heard with ecstasy) To meet Mokanna at his place of prayer, A garden oratory, cool and fair. By the stream's side, where still at close of day The Prophet of the Veil retired to pray Sometimes alone — but, oftener far, with one, One chosen nymph to share his orison. Of late none found such favour in his sight As the young Priestess ; and though, since that night When the death-caverns echoed every tone Of the dire oath that made her all his own, Th' Impostor, sure of his infatuate prize, Had, more than once, thrown off his soul's disguise, And uttered such unheavenly, monstrous things. As ev'n across the desperate wanderings Of a weak intellect, whose lamp was out. Threw startling shadows of dismay and doubt ; — Yet zeal, ambhion, her tremendous vow, The thought, still haunting her, of that bright brow Whose blaze, as yet from mortal eye concealed. Would soon, proud triumph ! be to her revealed, To her alone ; — and then the hope, most dear, Most wild of all, that her transgression here Was but a passage through earth's grosser fire. From which the spirit would at last aspire, VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 59 Ev'n purer than before, — as perfumes rise Through flame and smoke, most welcome to the skies — And tliat when Azim's fond, divine embrace Should circle her in heaven, no darkening trace Would on that bosom he once loved remain, But all be bright, be pure, be his again ! — These were the wildering dreams, whose cursed deceit Had chained her soul beneath the tempter's feet. And made her think ev'n damning falsehood sweet. But now that Shape, which had appalled her view That Semblance — how terrible, if true ! — Which came across her frenzy's full career. With shock of consciousness, cold, deep, severe. As when, in northern seas, at midnight dark. An isle of ice encounters some swift bark. And, startling all its wretches from their sleep. By one cold impulse hurls them to the deep ; — So came that shock not frenzy's self could beai, And waking up each long-lulled image there. But checked her headlong soul, to sink it in despair ' Wan and dejected, through the evening dusk, She now went slowly to that small kiosk, Where, pondering alone his impious schemes, MoKANNA waited her, — too wrapped in dreams Of the fair-ripening future's rich success, To heed the sorrow, pale and spiritless, 60 LALLAROOKH. That sat upon his victim's downcast brow, Or mark how slow her step, how altered now From the quick, ardent Priestess, whose light bound Came like a spirit's o'er th' unechoing ground, — From that wild Zelica, whose every glance Was thrilling fire, whose every thought a trance ! Upon his couch the Veiled Mokanna lay. While lamps around — not such as lend their ray, Ghmmering and cold, to those w^ho nightly pray fn holy KooM,^ or Mecca's dim arcades, — But brilliant, soft, such lights as lovely maids Look loveh'est in, shed their luxurious glow Upon his mystic Veil's white glittering flow. Beside him, 'stead of beads and books of prayer, Which the world fondly thought he mused on there. Stood Vases, filled with Kishmee's'' golden wine, And the red weepings of the Shiraz vine ; Of which his curtained lips full many a draught Took ^^ealously, as if each drop they quaffed. Like Zemzem's Spring of Holiness,'' had power To freshen the soul's virtues into flower ! » The cities of Com (or Koom) and Cashan are full of mosques, mausoleums, Wid sepulchres of the descendants of Ali, the Saints of Persia. — Chardin. »• An island in the Persian Gulf, celebrated for its white wme. = The miraculous well at Mecca ; so called, says Sale, from the murmuring of its waters. TEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. iM And still he drank and pondered — nor could see Th' approaching maid, so deep his reverie ; At length, with fiendish laugh, like that which broke From Eblis at the Fall of Man, he spoke : — " Yes, ye vile race, for hell's amusement given, " Too mean for earth, yet claiming kin with heaven ; " God's images, forsooth ; — such gods as he "Whom India serves, the monkey deity ;^ — "Ye creatures of a breath, proud things of clay, " To whom if Lucifer, as grandams say, " Refused, though at the forfeit of heaven's light, " To bend in worship, Lucifer was right ! ^ " Soon shall I plant this foot upon the neck " Of your foul race,' and without fear or check, ^ The god Hannaman. — « Apes are in many parts of InJia highly venerated, out of respect to tlie god Hannaman, a deity partaking of the form of that race." — Pennant'' s Hindostan. See a curious account, in Stephen's Persia, of a solemn embassy from some part of the Indies to Goa, wlren the Portuguese were there, offering vast treasures for the recovery of a monkey's tooth, which they held in great venera- tion, and which had been taken away upon the conquest of the kingdom of Jafanapatan. ^ This resolution of Ehlis not to acknowledge the new creature, man, was, according to Mahometan tradition, thus adopted: — "The earth (which God had selected for the materials of his work) was carried into Arabia to a place between Mecca and Tayef, where, being first kneaded by the angels, it .was afterwaids fashioned by God himself into a human form, and left to dry for the space of forty days, or, as others say, as many years ; the angels, in the mean time, often visiting it, and Eblis (then one of the angels nearest to God's presence, af\er wards the devil) among the rest; but he, not contented with looking at it, kicked it with his foot till it rung; and knowing God designed that creature to be his superior, took a secret resolution never to acknowledge him as such. — iSa^t', on the Koran. P See a description of the nuptials of Vizier Alee in the Asiatic Annual Register of 1804. 74 L A L L A R K H. any thing else, except, perhaps, him who related it, hurried on through this S3ene of splendour to her pavilion, — greatly to the mortification of the poor ailists of Yamtcheou, — and was followed with equal rapidity by the Great Chamberlain, cursing, as he went, that ancient Mandarin, whose parental anxiety in lighting up the shores of the lake, where his beloved daughter had wandered and been lost, was the origin of these fantastic Chinese illuminations.'' Without a moment's delay, young Feramorz was intro- duced, and Fadladeen, who could never make up liis mind as to the merits of a poet till he knew the religious sect to which he belonged, was about to ask him whether he was a Shia or a Sooni, when Lalla Rookii impatiently clapped her hands for silence, and the youth, being seated upon the mus- nud near her, proceeded : — ■ "' " The vulgar ascribe it to an accident that happened in the family of a famous mandarin, whose daughter, v/alking one evening upon the shore of a lake, fell in and was drowned ; this afflicted father, with his family, ran thither, and, the better to find her, he caused a great company of lanterns to be lighted. All the inhabitants of the place thronged after him with torches. The year ensuing they made fires upon the shores the same day ; they continued the ceremony every year, every one lighted his lantern, and by' degrees it commenced into a custorj." — Present Srate of China, VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 75 Prepare thy soul, young Azim ! — thou hast br?\ed The bands of Greece, still mighty though enslaved . Hast faced her phalanx, armed with all its fame, Her Macedonian pikes and globes of flame ; All this hast fronted, with firm heart and brow ; But a more perilous trial waits thee now, — Woman's bright eyes, a dazzling host of eyes From every land where woman smiles or sighs ; Of every hue, as Love may chance to raise His black or azure banner in their blaze ; And each sweet mode of w^arfare, from the flash That lightens boldly through the shadowy lash, To the sly, stealing splendours, almost hid, Like sw^ords half-sheathed, beneath the downcast lid ; Such, Azim, is the lovely, luminous host Now led against thee ; and, let conquerors, boast Their fields of fame, he who in virtue arms A young, warm spirit against beauty's charms, Who feels her brightness, yet defies her thrall, Is the best, bravest conqueror of them all. Now, through the Haram chambers, moving lights And busy shapes proclaim the toilet's rites ; — 76 LALLAROOKH. From room to room the ready handmaids hie, Some skilled to wreathe the turban tastefully, Or hang the veil, in negligence of shade, O'er the warm blushes of the youthful maid, Who, if between the folds but o??e eye shone, Like Seba's Queen, could vanquish with that one :*— While some bring leaves of Henna, to imbue The fingers' ends with a bright roseate hue,^ So bright, that in the mirror's depth they seem Like tips of coral branches in the stream : And others mix the Kohol's jetty dye, To give that long, dark languish to the eye,'' Which makes the maids, whom kings are proud to cull From fair Circassia's vales, so beautiful. All is in motion ; — rings and plumes and pearls Are shining everywhere : — some younger girls ^ " Thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes." — Sol. Song. ^ « They tinged the ends of her fingers scarlet with Henna, so that they lesembled branches of coraL" — Story of Prinre Futtun in Bahardanush, c "The women blacken the inside of their eyelids with a powder named the black Kohol." — Russcl. "None of these ladies," says Shaiv, "take themselves to be completely dressed, till they have tinged the hair and edges of their eyelids with the powder of lead ore. Now, as this operation is performed by dipping first into the pow- der a small wooden bodlcin of the thickness of a quill, and then drawing it after- wards through the eyelids over the ball of the eye, we shall have a lively image of what the Prophet (Jer. iv. 30) may be supposed to mean by rending the eyes uith painting. This practice is no doubt of gTeat antiquity : for besides Uie instance already taken notice of, we find that where Jezebel is said (2 Kings ix. 30) to have painted her face, the original words are she adjusted her eyes with tht powder of lead ore." — Shaw's Travels. VEIIiED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. Are gone by moonlight to the garden-beds, To eather fresh, cool chaplets for their heads ; — Gay creatures ! sweet, though mournful, 'tis to see How each prefers a garland from that tree Which brings to mind her childhood's innocent day, And the dear fields and friendships far away. The maid of India, blessed again to hold In her full lap the Champac's leaves of gold,^ Thinks of the time when, by the Ganges' flood, Her little playmates scattered many a bud Upon her long black hair, with glossy gleam Just dripping from the consecrated stream ; While the young Arab, haunted by the smell Of her own mountain flowers, as by a spell, — The sweet Elcaya,^ and that courteous tree Which bows to all who seek its canopy,*" — Sees, called up round her by these magic scents, The well, the camels, and her father's tents ; Sighs for the home she left with little pain, And wishes ev'n its sorrows ':,ack agam , a " The appearance of the blossoms of the gold-coloured Campac on the bla:k hair of the Indian women has supplied the Sanscrit Poets with many elegant allusions." — See ./Isiatic Rcscarrlirs, vol. iv. t A tree famous for its perfume, and common on the hills of i^^men. — Niebuhr. c Of the genus mimosa, " which droops its branches whenever any person approaches it, seeming as if it saluted those who retire under its shade'" • Niebuhr. o2 78 L A L L A R K H. Meanwhile, thrcugh vast illuminated halls, Silent and bright, where nothing but the falls Of fragrant waters, gushing with cool sound From many a jasper fount, is heard around, Young AziM roams bewildered, — nor can guess What means this maze of light and loneliness. Here, the way leads, o'er tessellated floors Or mats of Cairo, through long corridors. Where, ranged in cassolets and silver urns, Sweet wood of aloe or of sandal burns ; And spicy rods, such as illume at night The bowers of Tibet,^ send forth odorous light. Like Peris' wands, when pointing out the road For some pure Spirit to its blest abode : — And here, at once, the glittering saloon Bursts en his sight, boundless and bright as noon ; Where, in the midst, reflecting back the rays In broken rainbows, a fresh fountain plays High as th' enamelled cupola, which towers All rich with Arabesques of gold and flowers : And the mosaic floor beneath shines through The sprinkling of that fountain's silvery dew. Like the wet, glistening shells, of every dye, That on the margin of the Red Sea lie. a « Cloves are a principal ingredient in the composition of the perfumed rods, which men of rank keep constantly burning in their presence." — Turner's Tibet. VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 70 Here too he traces the kind visitings Of woman's love in those fair, living things Of land and wave, whose fate — in bondage thrown For their weak loveliness — is like her own ! On one side gleaming with a sudden grace Through water, brilliant as the crystal vase In which it undulates, small fishes shine, Like golden ingots from a fairy mine ; — While, on the oth?r, latticed lightly in With oderiferous woods of Comorix," Each brilliant bird that wings the air is seen ; — Gay, sparkling loories, such as gleam between The crimson blossoms of the coral-tree'' In the warm isles of India's sunny sea ; Mecca's blue sacred pigeon," and the ■'hrush Of Hindostan,'' whose holy warblings gush, At evening, from the tall pagoda's top ; — ■ Those golden birds that, in the spice-time, drop About the gardens, drunk with that sweet food" a « C'est d'ou vient le bois d'aloes, que Ics Arabes appellent Oud Comari, et celui du sandal, qui s'y trouve en grande quantite." — D'JIerhclof. ^ " Thousands of variegated loories visit the coral-trees." — Barron: <= « In Mecca there are quantities of blue pigeons, which none will affright or abuse, much less kill." — Pities Account of the Mahometans. <^ "The Pagoda Thrush is esteemed among the first choristers of India. It sits perched on the sacred pagodas, and from thence delivers its melodious song." — Pennant's Hindostan. e Tavcrnicr adds, that while the Birds of Paradise lie in this mtoxicated state, the emmots come and cat off their legs ; and that hence it is they are said CO have no feet. 60 L A L L A R O K H. Wliose scent hath lured them o'er the summer flood;" And those that under Araby's soft san Build their high nests of budding cinnamon ; ^ In short, all rare and beauteous things, that fly Through the pure element, here calmly lie Sleeping in light, like the green birds" that dwell In Eden's radiant fields of asphodel! So on, through scenes past all imagining, More like the luxuries of that impious king,*^ Whom Death's dark Angel, with his lightning torch, Struck down and blasted ev'n in Pleasure's porch, Than the pure dwelling of a Prophet sent. Armed with Heaven's sword, for man's enfranchisement- Young AziM wandered, looking sternly round, His simple garb and war-boots' clanking sound But ill according with the pomp and grace And silent lull of that voluptuous place. ^ Birds of Paradise, which, at the nutmeg season, come in flights from the southern isles to India ; and " the strength of the nutmeg," says Tavcrnicr, " so intoxicates them that they fall dead drunk to the earth." ^ " That bird which liveth m Arabia, and buildeth its nest with cinnamon." — Brown^s Vulgar Errors. c « The spirits of the 'martyrs will be lodged in the crops of green birds." — • Gibbon, vol. ix. p. 421. ^ Shedad, who made the delicious gardens of Trim, in imitation of Paradise, SJid was destroyed b}' lightning the first tune he attempted to euter them. VEILED PROPHET OF KIIORASSAN. §1 "Is this, then," thought the youth, " is this the way " To free man's spirit from the deadening sway " Of worldly sloth, — to teach him, while he lives, " To know no bliss but that which virtue gives, "And when he dies, to leave his lofty name "A light, a landmark on the cliffs of fame ? "It was not so, Land of the generous thought " And daring deed, thy godlike sages taught ; "It was not thus, in bowers of wanton ease, " Thy Freedom nursed her sacred energies ; " ! not beneath th' enfeeblinsr, witherins: o-low " Of such dull luxury did those myrtles grow, " With which she wreathed her sword, when she would dare "Immortal deeds; but in the bracing air " Of toll, — of temperance, — of that high, rare, " Ethereal virtue, which alone can breathe " Life, health, and lustre into Freedom's wreath. " Who, that surveys this span of earth we press, — " This speck of life in time's great wilderness, " This narrow isthmus 'twixt tw^o boundless seas, " The past, the future, two eternities ! — " Would sully the bright spot, or leave it bare, " When he might build him a proud temple there, "A name, that long shall hallow all its space. "And be each purer soul's high resting-place? "But no — it cannot be, that one, w^hom God " Has sent to break the wizard Falsehood's rod, — 82 L A L L A R K H. <' A Prophet of the truth, whose mission draws <' Its rites from Heaven, should thus profane its cause " With the world's vulgar pomps ; — no, no, — I see — " He thinks me weak — this glare of luxury " Is but to tempt, to try the eaglet gaze "Of my young soul — shine on, 'twill stand the blaze!" So thought the youdi : — but, ev'n while he defied This witching scene, he felt its witchery glide Through every sense. The perfume breathing round, Like a pervading spirit ; — the still sound Of falling waters, lulling as the song Of Indian bees at sunset, when they throng Around the fragrant Nilica, and deep In its blue blossoms hum themselves to sleep ; " And music, too — dear music ! that can touch Beyond all else the soul that loves it much — Now heard far off, so far as but to seem Like the faint, exquisite music of a dream ; — All was too mucii for him, too full of bliss ; The heart could nothing feel, that felt not this ; Softened, he sunk upon a couch, and gave His soul up to sweet thoughts, like wave on wave * « My Pandits assure me that the plant before us (the Nilica) is then Sephalica, thus named because the bees are supposed to sleep on its blossoms."— Sir W. Jones. VEILED PROPHET OF K II R A S S A N. &a Succeeding in smooth seas, when storms are laid ; He thought of Zelica, his own deai- maici, And of the time when, full of blissful sighs, They sat and looked into each other's eyes. Silent and happy — as if God had given Naught else worth looking at on this side heaven. " my loved mistress, thou, whose spirit stik " Is with me, round me, wander where I will — "It is for thee, for thee alone I seek " The paths of glory ; to light up thy cheek •'With warm approval — in that gentle look, " To read my praise, as in an angel's book, " And think all toils rewarded, when from tnee •'I gain a smile worth immortality ! " How snail I bear the moment, when restored <' To that young heart where I alone am Lord, " Though of such bliss unworthy, — since the best " Alone deserve to be the happiest ; — "When from those lips, unbreathed upon for years, "I shall again kiss off the soulfelt tears, " And find those tears warm as when last they started, " Those sacred kisses pure as when we parted ! " my own life! — why should a single day, " A moment keep me from those arms away ?" g4 LALLA ROOKH. While thus he thinks, still nearer, on the breeze, Come those delicious, dreamlike harmonies. Each note of which but adds new, downy links To the soft chain in which his spirit sinks. He turns him toward the sound, and far away Through a long vista, sparkling with the play Of countless lamps, — like the rich track which Day Leaves on the waters, when he sinks from us, So long the path, its light so tremulous, — He sees a group of female forms advance, Some chained together in the mazy dance By fetters forged in the green sunny bowers, As they were captives to the King of Flowers ;* And some disporting round, unlinked and free. Who seemed to mock their sisters' slavery; And round and round them still, in wheeling flight Went, like gay moths about a lamp at night ; While others waked, as gracefully along Their feet kept time, the very soul of song From psaltery, pipe, and lutes of heavenly thrill. Or their own youthful voices, heavenlier still. And now they come, now pass before his eye. Forms such as Nature moulds, when she would vie With Fancy's pencil, and give birth to things Lovely beyond its fairest picturings. a « They deferred it till the King of Flowers should ascend his throne of enamelled foliage." — The Bahardauush, VEILED PROPHET OF KH OR ASS AN Su Awhile they dance before him, then divide, Breaking, hke rosy clouds at eventide Around the rich pavilion of the sun, — Till, silently dispersing, one by one, Through many a path, that from the chamber leads To gardens, terraces, and moonlight meads. Their distant laughter comes upon the wind. And but one trembling nymph remains behind, — Beckoning them back in vain, for they are gone, And she is left in all that light alone ; No veil to curtain o'er her beauteous brow, In its young bashfulness more beauteous now ; But a light golden chain-work round her hair,* Such as the maids of Yezd^ and Shiraz wear. From which, on either side, gracefully hung A golden amulet, in th' Arab tongue, Engraven o'er with some immortal line From Holy Writ, or bard scarce less divine ; While her left hand, as shrinkingly she stood. Held a small lute of gold and sandal-wood. Which, once or twice, she touched witli hurried stram, ' Then took her trembling fingers off again. "•"One of the head-tlresses of the Persian women is composed of a light golJen chain-work, set with small pearls, with a thin gold plate pendant, about the bigness of a crown-piece, on which is impressed an Arabian prayer, and which hangs upon the check below the ear." — Hamnn/s Travels. ^ " Certainly the women of Yezd are the handsomest women in Persia The proverb is, that to live happy a man must have a wife of Yezd, cat the bn.ad of Yezdecas, and drink tlie wine of Shiraz." — Tavemier, H S6 L A L L A R K H. But when '^t length a timid glanc^ she stole At AziM, l.ie sweet gravity of soul She saw through all his features, calmed her fear. And, like a half-tamed antelope, more near, Though shrinking still, she came ; — then sat her down Upon a musnud's'^ edge, and bolder grown, In the pathetic mode of Isfahan'' Touched a preluding strain, and thus began : — There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's'' stream, And the nightingale sings round it all the day long; In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream, To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song. That bower and its music I never forget, But oft when alone, in the bloom of the year, I think — Is the nightingale singing there yet ? Are the roses still bright by the calm Bendemeer r No, the roses soon withered that hung o'er the wave, But some blossoms were gathered, while freshly they shone, a Musnuds are cushioned seats, usually reserved for persons of distinction. t> The Persians, like the ancient Greeks, call their musical modes or Perdal fey the name of different countries or cities, as the mode of Isfahan, the mode (d Irak, &c. c A river which flow^s near ihe ruins of Clulminar. VEILED PROPHET OF K PI O R A S S A. N. /Vnd a dew was distilled from their flowers, that gave All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone. Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, An essence that breathes of it many a year ; Thus bright to my soul, as 'twas then to my eyes. Is that bower on the banks of the calm Bendemeer ! "Poor maiden!" thought the youth, "if thou wert sent, <' With thy soft lute and beauty's blandishment, <' To wake unholy wishes in this heart, •' Or tempt its truth, thou little know'st the art. "For though thy lip should sweetly counsel wrong, "Those vestal eyes would disavow its song. " But thou hast breathed such purity, thy lay "Returns so fondly to youth's virtuous day, ' "And leads thy soul — if e'er it wandered thence — " So gently back to its first innocence, "That I would sooner stop the unchained dove, " When swift returning to its home of love, " And round its snowy wdng new fetters twine, "Than turn from virtue one pure wish of thine!" Scarce had this feeling passed, when, sparkling through The gently opened curtiins of hght blae S8 L A L L A R K H. That veiled \he breezy casement, countless eyes, Peeping like stars through the blue evening skies, Looked laughing in, as if to mock the pair That sat so still and melancholy there : — ' And now the curtains fly apart, and in From the cool air, 'mid showers of jessamine Which those without fling after them in play. Two lightsome maidens spring, — lightsome as they Who live in th' air on odours, — and around The bright saloon, scarce conscious of the ground, Chase one another, in a varying dance Of mirth and languor, coyness and advance. Too eloquently like love's warm pursuit : — While she, who sung so gently to the lute Her dream of home, steals timidly away, Shrinking as violets do in summer's ray, — But takes with her from Azim's heart that sigh We sometimes give to forms that pass us by In the world's crowd, too lovely to remain Creatures of lio'ht we never see a2:ain ! Around the white necks of the nymphs Avho danced Hung carcanets of orient gems, that glanced More brilliant than the sea-glass fflitterine: o'er The hills of crystal on the Caspian shore ; •'' a "To the north of us (on the coast of the Caspian, near Badku'v was a mountain, which sparkled like diamonds, arising from the sea-glass and cr\'«*al' VEILED PROPHET OF K H R A S S A X. S9 While from their long, dark tresses, in a fall Of curls descending, bells as musical As those that, on tl e golden-shafted trees Of Eden, shake m the eternal breeze,'' Rung round their steps, at every bound more sweet, As 'twere th' ecstatic language of their feet. At length the chase was o'er, and they stood wreathed Within each other's arms; while soft there breathed Through the cool casement, mingled whh the sighs Of moonlight flowers, music that seemed to rise From some still lake, so liquidly it rose ; And, as it sv;elled again at each faint close. The ear could track through all that maze of chords And young sweet voices, these impassioned words : — A Spirit there is, whose fragrant sigh Is burning now through earth and air ; Where cheeks are blushing, the Spirit is nigh. Where lips are meeting, the Spirit is there ! His breath is the soul of flowers like these, And his floating eyes — ! tliey resemble'' with wliich it abounds." — Journey of the Russian Ambassador to Persia, 1746. a "To which will be ailded the sound of the bells, hanging on the trees, wliich will be put in motion by the wind proceeding from the throne of God, as often as the blessed wish for music." — Sale. b " V'^'hose want, n e3'es resemble blue waf er-Ulies, agitated by the orccze." — Jayadi^iS. h2 90 L A L L A R O K H. Blue water-lilits," ^Yhen the breeze Is making llie stream around them tremble. Hail to thee, hail to thee, kindling-power! Spirit of Love, Spirit of Bliss ! Thy holiest time is ihe moonlight hour, And there never was moonlight so sweet as Uiis By the fair and brave Who blushing unite, Like the sun and wave, When they meet at night : — By the tear that show^s When passion is nigh, As the rain- drop flows From the heat of the sk} ; — By the first love-beat Of the youthful heart, By the bliss to meet, And the pain to part ; — By all that thou hast To mortals given, * 'I'he blue lotos, which grows in Cashmere and in Peraa. VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. q| Which — 0, could it last, This earth were heaven ! "We call thee hither, entrancing Power ! Spirit of Love ! Spirit of Bliss ! Thy holiest time is the moonlight hour, And there never vras moonlio-ht so sweet as tliis ! Impatient of a scene, whose luxuries stole, Spite of himself, too deep into his soul, And where, midst all that the young heart loves most, Flowers, music, smiles, to yield was to be lost, The youtli had started up, and turned away From the light nymphs, and their luxurious lay, To muse upon the pictures that hung round,'' — Bright images, that spoke without a sound, And views, like vistas into fairy ground. But here again new spells came o'er his sense :• — • All that the pencil's mute omnipotence Could call up into life, of soft and fair, Of fond and passionate, was glowing there ; » It has been generally supposed that, the Mahometans prohibit all pictures ol animals ; but Todcrini shows that, though the practice is ibrludJen by the Koran, they are not more averse to painted figures and images than other people. From Mr. Murphy's work, too, we find that the Arabs of Spain haJ no objection to the introduction of figures into painting. 02 L A L L A R O K 11. Nor yet too warm, but touched with that fine art Which paints of pleasure but the purer part ; Which knows ev'n Beauty when half- veiled is best, — Like her own radiant planet of the w^est, Whose orb when half retired looks loveliest.' There hung the history of the Genii- King, Traced through each gay, voluptuous wandering With her from Saba's bowers, in whose bright eyes He read that to be blessed is to be wise ; ^' Here fond Zuleika '^ woos with open arms The Hebrew boy, who flies from her young charms, Yet, flying, turns to gaze, and, half undone, Wishes that heaven and she could both be won ; ■* This is not quite astronomically true. " Dr. Hadley (says Keil) has shown thi^j Venus is brightest when she is about forty degrees removed from the sun ; and that then but oiilij a fourth pan of her lucid disk is to be set.i from the earth." ^ For the loves of King Solomon (who was supposed to preside over the whole race of Genii) with Balkis, the Queen of Sheba, or Saba, see D'Hcrbclot, and the Notes on the Koran, chap. 2. « In the palace which Solomon ordered to be built against the arrival of the Queen of Saba, the floor or pavement was of transparent glass, laid over running water, in which fish were swimming." This led the Queen into a very natural mistake, which the Koran has not thought beneath its dignity to commemorate. « It was said unto h'er, < Enter the palace.' And when she saw it she imagined it to be a great water ; and she discovered her legs by lifting up her robe to pass through it. Whereupon Solomon said to her, < Verily, this is the place evenly floored with glass.' " — Chap. 27. <^ The wife of Potiphar, thus named by the Orientals. "The passion which this frail beauty of antiquity conceived for her young Hebrew slave has given rise to a much esteemed poem in the Persian language, entitled Yusef van Zclikha, by Noureddin Jami; the manuscript copy of which, in the Bodleian Library at Oxford, is supposed to be the finest in the whole world." — Note upon NotCs Translation of Hafez. VEILED PROPHET OF KIIORASSAN {i'.\ And here Mohammed, born for love and guile, Forgets the Koran in his Mary's smile ; — Then beckons some kind angel from above With a new text to consecrate iheir love.'* With rapid sl^ep, yet pleased and lingering eye, Did the yoiitli pass these pictured stories by, And hastened to a casement, where the light Of the calm moon came in, and freshly bright The fields without were seen, sleeping as still As if no life remained in breeze or rill. Here paused he, while the music, now less near, Breathed with a holier language on his car. As though the distance, and that heaverdy ray Through which the sounds came floating, took away All that had been too earthly in the lay. ! could he listen to such sounds unmoved. And by that light — nor dream of her he loved ? Dream on, unconscious boy! while yet thou may'st; 'Tis the last bliss thy soul shall ever taste. Clasp yet av.hile her image to thy heart Ere all the light, that made it dear, depart. a Tlie particulars of Mahomet's amour with Mary, the Coptic girl, m justiC cation of which he added a new chapter to the Koran, may be found in Gagnie Notes upon Abulfcda, p. 151. 04 L A L L A R K H. Think of her smiles as when thou saw'st them last, Clear, beautiful, by naught of earth o'ercast; Recall her tears, to thee at parting given. Pure as they weep, if angels weep, in heaven. Think, in her own still bower she waits thee now. With the same glow of heart and bloom of brow, Yet shrined in solitude — thine all, thine only. Like the one star above thee, bright and lonely. that a dream so sweet, so long enjoyed. Should be so sadly, cruelly destroyed ! The song is hushed, the laughing nymphs are flown, And he is left, musing of bliss, alone ; — Alone ? — no, not alone — that heavy sigh, That sob of grief, which broke from some one nigh — Whose could it be ? — alas ! is misery found Here, even here, on this enchanted ground ? He turns, and sees a female form, close veiled. Leaning, as if both heart and strength had failed, Agamst a pillar near; — not glittering o'er With gems and wreaths, such as the others wore, But in that deep-blue melancholy dress,'' Bokhara's maidens wear in mindfulness Of friends or kindred, dead or far away ; — And such as Zelica had on that day a « Deep blue is their mourning colour." — Hanvoaj/, VEILED PROPHET OF K II O R A S S A N. (jr\ He left her — when, with heart too full to speak, He took away her last warm tears upon his cheek. A strange emotion stirs within him, — more Than mere compassion ever waked before ; Unconsciously he opes his arms, whilg she Springs forward, as with life's last energy, But, swooning in that one convulsive bound. Sinks, ere she reach his arms, upon the ground ; — Her veil falls off — her faint hands clasp his knees — 'Tis she herself! — 'tis Zelica he sees! But, ah, so pale, so changed — none but a lover Could in that wTCck of beauty's shrine discover The once adored divinity — ev'if he Stood for some moments mute, and doubtingly Put back the ringlets from her brow, and gazed . Upon those lids, where once such lustre blazed Ere he could think she was indeed his own. Own darling maid, whom he so long had known In joy and sorrow, beautiful in both ; Who, ev'n when grief was heaviest — when loath He left her for the wars — in that worst hour Sat in her sorrow like the sweet nicrht-flower,* When darkness brings its weeping glories out, And spreads its sighs like frankincense about. » The sorrowful nyctaiithes, wliich begins to spread its rich odour altci Ejnset. OU L A L L A R K H. <' Look up, my Zelica — one moment show " Those gentle eyes to me, that I may know " Thy life, thy loveliness is not all gone, '• But there^ at least, shines as it ever shone. " Come, look upon thy Azim — one dear glance, "Like those of old, were heaven! whatever chance "Hath brought thee here, 0, 'twas a hlessed one! " There — my loved lips — they move — that kiss hath run " Like the first shoot of life through every vein, "And now I clasp her, mine, all mine again. " the delight — now, in this very hour, "When, had the whole rich world been m my power, "I should have sing'ed out thee, only thee, "From the whole world's collected treasury — " To have thee here — to hang thus fondly o'er "My own best, purest Zelica once more!" It was indeed the touch of those fond lips Upon her eyes that chased their short eclipse, And, gradual as the show, at heaven's breath. Melts off and shows the azure flowers beneath, Her lids unclosed, and the bright eyes were seen Gazing on his — not, as they late had been, Quick, restless, wild, but mournfully serene : As if to lie, ev'n for that tranced minute. So near his heart, had consolation in it ; VEILED PROPHET OF :CHORASSAN 97 And thus to wake in his beloved caress Took from her soul one half its wretchedness. But, when she heard him Ccill her good and pure, 0, 'twas too much — too dreadful to endure ! Shuddering she broke away from his embrace, And, hiding with both hands her guilty face. Said, in a tone whose anguish would have riven A heart of very marble, "Pure! — heaven!" — That tone — those looks so changed — the withering blight, That sin and sorrow leave where'er they light ; The dead despondency of those sunk eyes. Where once, had he thus met her by surprise, He would have seen himself, too happy boy, Reflected in a thousand lights of joy ; And then the place, — that bright, unholy place. Where vice lay hid beneath each winning grace And charm of luxury, as the viper weaves Its wily covering of sweet balsam leaves," — All struck upon his heart, sudden and cold As death itself; — it needs not to be told — No, no — he sees it all, plain as the brand Of burning shame can mark — w^hate'er '.he hand. a "Concerning the vipers, which Pliny says were frequent among the balsam-trees, I maJe very particular inquiry ; several were brougnt me alive both to Yambo and Jidda." — Bruce. I 98 L A L L A R O K H. That could from heaven and him such brightness sever, 'Tis done — to heaven and him she's lost for ever ! It was a dreadful moment ; not the tears, The lingering, lasting misery of years Could match that minute's anguish — all the worst Of sorrow's elements in that dark burst Broke o'er his soul, and, with one crash of fate. Laid the whole hopes of his life desolate. " ! curse me not," she cried, as wild he tossed His desperate hand towards heaven — "though I am lost, " Think not that guilt, that falsehood made me fall ; ■-'No, no — 'twas grief, 'twas madness did it all! "Nay, doubt me not — though all thy love hath ceased— " I know it hath — yet, yet believe, at least, " That every spark of reason's light must be " Quenched in this brain, ere I could stray from thee. ■ " They told me thou wert dead — why, Azim, why "Did we not, both of us. that instant die " When we were parted ? ! couldst thou but know "With what a deep devotedness of woe " I wept thy absence — o'er and o'er again "Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain, " And memory, like a drop that, night and day, " Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away. "Didst thou but know how pale I sat at home, " My eyes still turned the way thou wer*^ to come, VEILED P R P 11 E i OF K 11 O R A S S A N. f){) " And, all the long, long night of hope and fear, << Thy voice and step still sounding in my ear — " God ! thou Avouldst not wonder that, at last, " When every hope was all at once o'ercast, "When I heard frightful voices round me say, " ^zim is dead ! — this wretched brain gave way, " And I became a wreck, at random driven, " Without one glimpse of reason or of heaven — "All wild — and ev'n this quenchless love within " Turned to foul fires to light me into sin ! — "Thou pitiest me — I knew thou wouldst — that sky " Hath naught beneath it half so lorn as 1. " The fiend, who lured me hither — hist ! come near " Or thou too, thou art lost, if he should hear — " Told me such things — ! with such devilish art, "As would have ruined ev'n a holier heart — " Of thee, and of that ever-radiant sphere, " Where blessed at length, if I but served him here, "I should for ever live in thy dear sight, " And drink from those pure eyes eternal light. " Think, think how lost, how maddened I must be, " To hope tliat guilt could lead to God or thee ! " Thou weep'st for me — do weep — that I durst "Kiss off that tear! but, no — these lips are cursed; " They must not touch thee ; — one divine caress, " One blessed moment of forgetfulness 100 LALLA KOOKH. " I've had within those arms, and that shall lie, " Shrined in my soul's deep memory till I die; " The last of joy's last relics here below, " The one sweet drop, in all this waste of woe, " My heart has treasured from affection's spring, "To soothe and cool its deadly withering! "But thou — yes, thou muG: go — for ever go, " This place is not for thee — for thee ! 0, no ; " Did I but tell thee half, thy tortured brain "Would burn like mine, and mine go wild again! "Enough, that Guilt reigns here — that hearts, once good, " Now tainted, chilled, and broken, are his food. — " Enough, that we are parted — that there rolls " A flood of headlong fate between our souls, " Whose darkness severs me as wide from thee "As hell from heaven, to all eternity!" "Zelica, Zelica!" the youth exclaimed. In all the tortures of a mind inflamed Almost to madness — -'by that sacred heaven, " Where yet, if prayers can move, thou'lt be forgiven, "As thou art here — here, in this writhing heart, ^' All sinful, wdid, and ruined as thou art ! — "By the remembrance of our once pure love, "Which, like a churchyard light, still burns above " The grave of our lost souls — which guilt in thee " Cannot extinguish, nor despair in me ! — VEILED PKOPHET OF K H O R A S S A N. lOJ "I do conjure, implore thee to fly hence; " If thou hast yet one spark of innocence, J I ... . . " Fly with me from this place " ^., " With the'eJ* 1)11585 :* ij •• " 'Tis worth whole years of torment to hear this. " What ! take the lost one with thee ? — let her rove " By thy dear side, as in those days of lo\e, " When we were hoth so happy, both so pure — " Too heavenly dream ! if there's on earth a cure " For the sunk heart, 'tis this — day after day " To be the blest companion of thy way ; " To hear thy angel eloquence — to see " Those virtuous eyes for ever turned on me ; "And, in their light re-chastened silently, "Like the stained web that whitens in the sun, " Grow pure by being purely shone upon ! " And thou wilt pray for me — I know thou wilt : "At the dim vesper hour, when thoughts of guilt " Come heaviest o'er the heart, thou'lt lift thine eyes, " Full of sweet tears, unto the darkening skies, " And plead for me with Heaven, till I can dare " To fix my own weak, sinful glances tliere ; " Till the good angels, when they see me cling " For ever near thee, pale and sorrowing, " Shall for thy sake pronounce my soul forgiven, " And bid thee take thy weeping slave to heaven . " yes, I'll fly with tl.ge " I2 102 L A L L A R K H. Scarce had she said These breathless words, when a voice deep and dread As'thaf of Mo;nker, waking up the dead -'; 'i5'roh^;th.e?Vfirsi; sleep — so starthng 'twas to both — Rung through the casement near, " Thy oath ! thy oath!" O Heaven, the ghasthness of that Maid's look ! — " 'Tis he,' faintly she cried, while terror shook Her inmost core, nor durst she lift her eyes, Though through the casement, now, naught but the skies And moonlight fields were seen, calm as before — " 'Tis he, and I am his — all, all is o'er! " Go — fly this instant, or thou'rt ruined too — "My oath, my oath, God! 'tis all too true, " True as the worm in this cold heart it is — • <' I am Mokanna's bride — his, Azim, his — " The Dead stood round us, while I spoke that vow, " Their blue lips echoed it — I hear them now ! " Their eyes glared on me, while I pledged that bowl — " 'Twas burning blood — I feel it in my soul! "And the Veiled Bridegroom — hist! I've seen to-night "What angels know not of — so foul a sight, " So horrible — ! never mayst thou see " What there lies hid from all but hell and me ' " But I must hence — Off, off — I am not thine, " Nor Heaven's, nor Love's, nor aught that is divine ! "Hold me not — Ha! think'st thou the fiends that sever *< Hearts, canrot sunder hands? — Thus, then — for ever!" /£lLFO PHOPIlET OF K H O .R A S i^ A N. }oi With all that strength which madness lends tlie weak, 3I1C Ci.r;/ aw ir his arm, a'ld- xt\: a shriek, Whose I'ound. though he should linger out more years Than WTetch e'er told, can never leave his ears — Flew up tlirough that long avenue of light. Fleetly as some dark, ominous bird of night Across the sun, and soon was out cf .^igkt ! ^04 L A L L A R O K H. Lalla Rookh could think of nothing all day but th$ misery of these two young lovers. Her gayety was gone, and she looked pensively even upon Fadladeen. She felt, too, without knowing why, a sort of uneasy pleasure in imagining that Aziai must have been just such a youth as Feb.amoiiz ; just as worthy to enjoy all the blessings, without 'aP-j of the ps.rxgs. of that illusive passion, which too often, like the sunny apples of Istkaliar,^ is all sweetness on one sic'.e, a;.*.' all bitten. /ios on the othe.*. As they passed along a sequestered river after sunset, they saw a young Hindoo girl upon the banJc,'' whn<;e emplo^ymeni seemed to them so Swange, that they stopped dieir palankeens to observe her. She had lighted a small lamp, filled with oil of cocoa, and, placing >t in an earthen dish, adorned with a wreath of flowers, had committed it with a trembling hand to the stream ; and was now anxiously =vatching its progress down the current, heedless of the gay avalcade which had drawn up beside her. Lalla Rookh : « In the territory of Istkahar there is a kind of apple, half of wliich is sweet and naif sour." — Ebn Haukal. ^ For an account of tliis ceremony, see Grandpre's Voyage in the Indian Ocean. VEILED PROPHET OF K II R A S S A N. IQ^ was all curiosity; — when one of her attendants, who had lived upon the banks of tlie Ganges, (where this ceremony is so frequent, that often, in the dusk of the evening, the river is seen glittering all over with lights, like the Oton-tala or Sea of Stars,*) informed the Princess that it was the usual way in which the friends of those who had gone on dangerous voyages offered up vows for their safe return. If the lamp sunk immediately, the omen was disastrous: but if it went shinmg down the stream, and continued to burn till entirely out of sight, the return of the beloved object was considerea as certain. Lalla Rookh, as they moved on, more than once looked back, to observe how the young Hindoo's lamp proceeded ; and, while she saw ^^^th pleasure that it was still unextin- guished, she could not help fearing that all the hopes of this life were no better than that feeble light upon the river. The remainder of the journey was passed in silence. She now, for the first time, felt that shade of melancholy, which comes over the youtliful maiden's heart, as sweet and transient as her own breath upon a mirror; nor was it till she heard the lute of Feramorz, touched lightly at the door of her pavilion, that she waked from the reverie in which she had a " The place where the Whangho, a river of Tibet, rises, and where there are more than a hundred sjjrings, which sparkle like stars ; whence it is called Hotun-nor, that is. the Sea of Stars." — Description of Tibet hi Pinkerlon. 106 LALLA ROOKH. been wandering. Instantly her eyes were lighted up with pleasure ; and, after a few unheard remarks from Fapladeen upon the indecorum of a poet seating himself in presence of a Princess, every thing was arranged as on the preceding evening, and all listened with eagerness, while the story was thus contmueci: — VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 107 Whose are the gilded tents tliat crowd the way, Where all was waste and silent yesterday ? This City of War which, in a few short hours, Hath sprung up here,* as if the magic powers Of Him who, in the twinkling of a star, Built the high pillared halls of Chilmixar,^ a^"The Lescar or Imperial Camp is divided, like a regular town, into squares, alleys, and streets, and from a rising ground furnishes one of the most agreeable prospects in the world. Starting up in a few hours in an uninhabited plain, it raises the idea of a city built by enchantment. Even those who leave their houses in cities to follow the prince in his progress, are frequently so charmed with the Lescar, when situated in a beautiful and convenient place that they cannot prevail with themselves to remove. To prevent this inconve- nience to the court, the Emperor, after sufficient time is allowed to the tradesmen to follow, orders them to be burnt out of their tents." — Dotv's Hindostan. Colonel Wilks gives a lively picture of an Eastern encampment: — "His camp, like that of most Indian armies, exhibited a motley collection of covers from the scorching sun and dews of the night, variegated accorduig to the taste or means of each individual, by extensive enclosures of coloured calico surround- ing superb suites of tents; by ragged cloths or blankets stretclied over sticks or Dranches; palm leaves hastily spread over siir.ilar supports; handsome tents and splendid canopies; horses, oxen, elephants, and camel?; a!] intermixtd wiJiout any exterior mark of order or design, except tlie flogj: of thr chi^-f-, which ususd'.J mark the centres of a congerie5 of these masBv^s, the only regular part ol llm encampment being the streets of shops, each of which if constructe 1 near!;' in the manner of a booth at an English fair." — Histon