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 LALLA ROOKH 
 
 THOMAS MOORE 
 
 J, 
 
 CJKitl) Jtllustvatfons 
 
 FROil DESIGNS BY JOIIX TENSIEL 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 PUBLISHED BY HURT) AND HOUGHTON 
 
 4D9 Broome Street 
 
 1867 
 
 •\^
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in tlie year 1866, by 
 
 UuRD AND Houghton, 
 
 in tlie Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of 
 
 New York. 
 
 RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE : 
 
 STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY 
 
 H. 0. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY.
 
 TO 
 
 SAMUEL ROGERS, ESQ., 
 STHs Volume 
 
 IS DEDICATED BY UIS VERY GRATEFUL AND AFi'ECTIONATE 
 FRIEND, 
 
 THOMAS MOORE.
 
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 j;d?i^M2^^^^^^^^%a^^^i^£^l?^^ 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 (WRITTEN ORIGINALLY FOR " LALLA ROOKII," IN THE COL- 
 LECTED EDITION OF MOORE'S WORKS.) 
 
 The poem, or romance, of "• Lalla Rookh " hav- 
 ing now reached, I understand, its twentieth edi- 
 tion, a short account of the origin and progress of a 
 work wliich has been hitlierto 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 writing 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 Avas ojjened with the 
 Messrs. Longman, in the same year, but, from some 
 causes which I cannot now recollect, led to no deci- 
 sive 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. 
 1
 
 2 PREFACE. 
 
 On this last occasion, Mr. Perry kindly offered 
 himself as my rejiresentative in the treaty ; and, 
 what with the friendly zeal of my negotiator on the 
 one side, and the prompt 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 advantageously 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 opin- 
 ion," 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 
 largest 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 em- 
 bai'ked so large a sum in the purchase. But, no ; — 
 the romantic view Avhich my friend Perry took of 
 the matter was, that this price should be given as a 
 tribute to reputation already acquired, without any 
 conchtion for a j^revious perusal of the new work. 
 This high tone, I must confess, not a little startled 
 and alarmed me ; but, to the honor and glory of 
 Romance, — as well on the publishers' side as the
 
 PREFACE. 3 
 
 poet's, — this very generous view of the tramsaction 
 was, without any difficulty, acceded to ; and the firm 
 agreed, before we separated, that I was to receive 
 three thousand guineas for my poem. 
 
 At the time of this agreement, but Httle of the 
 work, as it stands at present, had yet been written. 
 But the ready confidence in my success shown by 
 others made up for the deficiency of that requisite 
 feeling 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 will- 
 ing and ready, should they desire it, to submit the 
 manuscript for their consideration. Their answer 
 to this offer was as follows : " We are certainly im- 
 patient for the perusal of the poem ; but solely for 
 our gratification. Your sentiments are always hon- 
 orable." * 
 
 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 j^eriod employed in writing 
 " Lalla Rookh." At length, in the year 18 1 G, 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 exhausting effects of the series of wars she had 
 
 * April 10, ]815.
 
 4 PREFACE. 
 
 just then concluded, and the general emban-assment 
 of all classes, both agricultural and commercial, ren- 
 dered it a juncture the least favorable that could 
 well be conceived for the first launch into print of 
 so light and costly a venture as " Lalla Rookh." 
 Feeling conscious, therefore, that, under such cir- 
 cumstances, 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 postpone, modify, or even, should such be 
 their wish, relinquish it altogether, I wrote them a 
 letter to that effect, and received the following an- 
 swer : " We shall be most happy in the pleasure of 
 seeing yovi 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 " fic- 
 tions. But, besides that I have been at all times 
 a far more slow and painstaking workman 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 im- 
 mense stake risked by others on my chance of suc- 
 cess. For a long time, therefore, after the agree- 
 
 * November 9, 1816.
 
 PREFACE. 5 
 
 meiit had been concluded, though generally at work 
 with a \ae\v to this task, I made but very little real 
 progress in it ; and I have still by me the beginnings 
 of several stories, continued, some of them, to the 
 length of three or four hundred lines, which, after 
 in vain endeavoring to mould them into shape, I 
 threw aside, like the tale of Cambuscan, " left half- 
 told." One of these stories, entitled '• The 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 Mo- 
 hassan. The story opens with the first meeting of 
 these destined lovers, then in their childhood ; the 
 Peri having wafted her daughter to this holy retreat, 
 in a bright, enchanted boat, whose first appearance' 
 is thus described : — 
 
 For, down the silveiy 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," young 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 liiding oft his dazzled eyes 
 Among the flowers on which he lies.
 
 (5 PREFACE. 
 
 Within the boat a baby slept, 
 
 Like a young pearl within its shell; 
 While one, who seemed of riper years, 
 But not of earth, or earth-like spheres, 
 
 Her watch beside the slumberer kept; 
 
 Gracefully waving, in her hand. 
 The 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 fairy boat hath stopped 
 Beside the bank, — the nymph has dropped 
 Her golden anchor in the stream ; 
 
 A song is Sling 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 
 
 For 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 saint, named Banou, plays a principal part ;
 
 PREFACE. 7 
 
 and her progress through the streets of Cufa, on the 
 night of a great ilhiminated festival, I find thus de- 
 scribed : — 
 
 It was a sceue of mirth that drew 
 
 A smile from even the Saint Banou, 
 
 As, tln-ough 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 kiss 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
 
 8 PREFACE. 
 
 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, is not incajDable of being yet turned to ac- 
 count. 
 
 In only one of these unfinished sketches, the tale 
 of " The Peri's Daughter," had I yet ventured to 
 invoke that most home-felt of all my inspirations, 
 which has lent to the story of '' The Fire-Worship- 
 pers " its main attraction and interest. That it 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, — 
 
 " Oh no, T have no voice or hand 
 For such a song, in such a land."
 
 PREACE. 9 
 
 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 long maintained be- 
 tween the Ghebers,* or ancient Fire-worshippers 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 melodies of Ireland soon found 
 itself at home in the East. 
 
 Having thus laid open the secrets of the work- 
 shop 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 read- 
 ing for it. To form a storehouse, as it were, of 
 illustration purely Oriental, and so familiarize my- 
 self 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 
 
 * Voltaire, in his tragedy of Les Gu'ehres, written with a simi- 
 lar under-current of meaning, was accused of having transformed 
 his Fire-worshippers into Jansenists: " Quelques figuristes," he 
 says, " pr^tendent que les Gu^bres sont les Jansenistes."
 
 10 PREFACE. 
 
 truthfulness is concerned, have been such as to re- 
 pay me more than sufficiently 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 in the East. " Never," answered Mackintosh. 
 
 " Well, that shows me," replied Colonel W s, 
 
 " that reading over D'llerbelot is as good as riding 
 on the back of a camel." 
 
 I need hardly subjoin to this lively speech, that 
 although D'llerbelot's valuable work was, of course, 
 one of my manuals, 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'Anville, though never 
 in his life out of Paris, was able to correct a num- 
 ber of errors in a plan of the Troad taken by De 
 Choiseul on the spot ; and, for my own very differ- 
 ent, 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
 
 PREFACE. 11 
 
 another distinguished authority on Eastern subjects, 
 the late Sir John Malcohn, I had myself the* pleas- 
 ure 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 William Ouseley, another high authority, in 
 giving his testimony to the same effect, thus notices 
 an exception to the 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 hap- 
 pily 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 Nimrod, when Abraham refused, at his 
 command, to worship the fire, ordered him to be 
 thrown into the midst of the flames.f A precedent 
 so ancient for this sort of use of the worshipped 
 element would appear, for all purposes at least of 
 poetry, fully sufficient. 
 
 * The Fire- Worshippers. 
 
 t " Tradunt autem Hebraii hauc fabulam quod Abraham in ig- 
 nem missus sit quia ignem adorare noluit." — St. Hieron. in ( 
 in Genesim.
 
 12 PREFACE. 
 
 In addition to these agreeable testimonies, I b.ave 
 also heard, and, need hardly add, with some pride 
 and pleasnre, that parts of this work have been ren- 
 dered 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." 
 
 That some knowledge of the work may have 
 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 with a copy of ' Lalla 
 Rookh,' which 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 apprised, it was
 
 PREFACE. 13 
 
 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 " Athe- 
 n;eum " : — 
 
 " I embrace this opportunity of bearing my indi- 
 vidual testimony (if it be of any value) to the ex- 
 traordinary accuracy of Mr. Moore, in his topograph- 
 ical, antiquarian, and characteristic 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, Bermu- 
 dean, and American Odes and Epistles in the coun- 
 tries and among the people to which and to whom 
 they related ; I enjoyed also the exquisite delight of 
 reading his ' Lalla Rookh ' in Persia itself; and I 
 have perused the ' Epicurean,' while all my recollec- 
 tions of Egypt and its still existing wonders are as 
 fresh as when I quitted the banks of the Nile for Ara- 
 bia ; I owe it, therefore, as a debt of gratitude (though 
 the payment is most inadequate) for the great pleas- 
 ure I have derived from his productions, to bear my 
 humble testimony to their local fidelity. 
 
 "J. S. B." 
 
 Among the incidents connected with this work, 
 I must not omit to notice the splendid divertisse-
 
 14 TREFACE. 
 
 ment, founded upon it, which was acted at the Cha- 
 teau Royal of Berlin, during the visit of the Grand 
 Duke Nicholas to that cajDital, in the year 1822. 
 The different stories composing the work were rep- 
 resented in tahleaux vivans and songs ; and among 
 the crowd of royal and noble personages engaged in 
 the performances, I shall mention those only who 
 represented the principal characters, and Avhom I 
 find thus enumerated in the published account of 
 the divertissement: — * 
 
 h adladin, Grand-Nasir '. ^ v ^ 
 
 Aliris, Roi de Bucharie S. A. I. Le Grand Due. 
 
 Lalla Koukh S. A. J. La Grande Buchesse. 
 
 » 1 1 /i 1 T\r 1 I S. A. R. Lb Prince Guillaume, 
 
 Auningzeb, le Orand Mogol . . . . | _^.. ■ ,.^ ^^^^ ^^ ■ 
 
 Abdallah, pere d'Aliris j '^- \j^l ^« ^'"^ '^' ^™'*^'- 
 
 r r> ■ / { S. A. R. La Princesse Louise 
 
 La Reine, son epouse | RadzivUl." 
 
 Besides these and other leading personages, there 
 were also brought into action, under the various 
 denominations of Seig?ieurs et Dames de Bucharie, 
 Dames de Cachemire, Seigneurs et Dames dansans a 
 la Fete des Roses, etc., 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 per- 
 
 • * Lalla RoilkJi^ Divertissement, mele de Chants et de Dnnses, 
 
 Berlin, 1822. The work contains a series of colored engravings, 
 
 representing groups, processions, etc., in different Oriental cos- 
 tumes.
 
 • PREFACE. 15 
 
 formance of " Paradise and the Peri " will afford 
 some specimen : — 
 
 " La decoration representoit les portes brillantes 
 du Paradis, entourees de niiages. Dans le premier 
 tableau on voyoit la Peri, triste et desolee, couchee 
 sur le seuil des portes fermees, et I'Ange de lumiere 
 qui lui addresse des consolations et des conseils. 
 Le second represente le moment ou la Peri, dans 
 I'espoir que ce don lui ouvrira I'entree du Paradis, 
 recueille la derniere goutte de sang que vient de 
 verser le jeune guerrier Tndien 
 
 " La Peri et I'Ange de lumiere repondoient pleine- 
 ment a I'image et a I'idee qu'on est tente de se 
 faire de ces deux individus, et I'impression qu'a faite 
 generalement la suite des tableaux de cet episode 
 delicat et interessant est loin de s'effacer de notre 
 souvenir." 
 
 In this grand ye^e, it appears, originated the trans- 
 lation of " Lalla Kookh " into German verse,* by the 
 Baron de la Motte Fouqiie; and the circumstances 
 which 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 translation. 
 As soon as the performance, he tells us, had ended, 
 Lalla Rookh (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 
 
 * Since this was written, another translation of Lalla Rookh into 
 German verse has been made by ThcoclorOelckers( Leipzig, Tauch- 
 nitz, Jan.), which has aheady passed through three editions.
 
 16 PREFACE. 
 
 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 ap- 
 peal, a Knight of Cashmere (who is no other than 
 the poetical Baron himself) comes forward and prom- 
 ises to attempt to present to the world " the poem 
 itself in the measure of the original ; " — where- 
 upon Lai la Rookh, it is added, approvingly smiled.
 
 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 In the eleventh year of the reign of Aurungzebe, 
 AbdaHa, King of the Lesser Bucharia, a lineal de- 
 scendant from the Great Zingis, having abdicated 
 the throne in favor of his son, set out on a pilgrim- 
 age 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 entertained by Aurungzebe in a style of mag- 
 nificent hospitality, worthy alike of the visitor and 
 the host, and was afterwards escorted with the same 
 splendor to Surat, where he embarked for Arabia.^ 
 During the stay of the Royal Pilgrim at Delhi, a 
 marriage was agreed upon between the Prince, his 
 son, and the youngest daughter of the Emperor, 
 Lalla Rookh,^ — a princess described by the poets 
 of her time as more beautiful than Leila,^ Shirine,^ 
 Dewilde,^ or any of those heroines whose names 
 and loves embellish the songs of Persia and Hin- 
 dostan. It was intended that the nuptials should 
 be celebrated at Cashmere ; where the young King, 
 as soon as the cares of empire would permit, was to 
 2
 
 18 LALLA KOOKH. 
 
 meet for the first time his lovely bride, and. after a 
 few months' repose in that enchanting valley, con- 
 duct 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. The bazaars and baths were all covered 
 with the richest tapestry ; hundreds of gilded barges 
 upon the Jumna floated with their banners shining 
 in the water ; while through the streets groups of 
 beautiful children went strewing the most delicious 
 flowers 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 cor- 
 nelian of Yemen round her neck, on which was in- 
 scribed a verse from the Koran, and having sent a 
 considerable present to the Fakirs, who kept up the 
 Perpetual Lamp in her sister's tomb, meekly as- 
 cended the palankeen prepared for her ; and while 
 Aurungzebe stood to take a last look from his bal- 
 cony, the jDrocession moved slowly on the road to 
 Lahore. 
 
 Seldom had the Eastern world seen a cavalcade 
 so superb. From the gardens in the suburbs to the 
 Liiperial palace, it was one unbroken line of splen- 
 dor. The gallant appearance of the Rajahs and 
 Mogul Lords, distinguished by those insignia of the
 
 LALLA ROOKH. 19 
 
 Emperor's favor,^ the feathers of the egret of Cash- 
 mei'e in their turbans, and the small silver-rimmed 
 kettle-drums at the bows of their saddles ; the costly 
 armor of their cavaliers, who vied on this occasion 
 Avith the guards of the great Keder Khan ^ in the 
 brightness of their silver battle-axes and the massi- 
 ness of their maces of gold ; the glittering of the 
 gilt pine-apples ^ on the tops of the palankeens ; the 
 embroidered trappings of the elephants, bearing 
 on their backs small turrets, in the shape of little 
 antique temples, within which the ladies of Lalla 
 RooKH lay as it were enshrined ; the rose-colored 
 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 Tar- 
 tarian and Cashmerian maids of honor, Avhom the 
 young King had sent to accompany his bride, and 
 who rode on each side of the litter upon small Ara- 
 bian horses ; — all was brilliant, tasteful, and mag- 
 nificent, and pleased even the critical and fastidious 
 Fadladeen, Great Nazir or Chamberlain of the 
 Harem, who was borne in his palankeen immedi- 
 ately after the Princess, and considered himself not 
 the least important personage of the pageant. 
 
 Fadladeen was a judge of everything, — from 
 the pencilling of a Circassian's eyelids to the deepest 
 questions of science and literature ; from the mixt- 
 ure of a conserve of rose-leaves to the composition
 
 20 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 of an epic poem ; and such influence had his opinion 
 upon the various tastes of the day, that all the cooks 
 and poets of Delhi stood in awe of him. His polit- 
 ical conduct and opinions were foinided 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 nuniificent protector,^' 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 through which 
 they passed to interest her mind and delight 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 encampments, — 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 the West,^** as " places of melancholy, delight, 
 and safety, Avhere all the company aroimd 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 amuse- 
 ment. But Lalla Rookh was young, and the
 
 LALLA ROOKH. 21 
 
 young love variety ; nor could the conversation of 
 her ladies and the Great Chamberlain, Fadladeen, 
 (the only persons, of course, admitted to her pavil- 
 ion,) sufficiently enliven those many vacant hours 
 which were devoted neither to the pillow nor the 
 palankeen. There was a little Persian slave who 
 sung sweetly to the Vina, and who now and then 
 lulled the Princess to sleep with the ancient ditties 
 of her 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 Delhi, who had 
 been permitted by the Bramins of the great Pagoda 
 to attend her, much to the horror of the good Mus- 
 sulman Fadladeen, who could see nothing grace- 
 ful or agreeable in idolaters, and to whom the very 
 tinkling of their golden anklets -" was an abomina- 
 tion. 
 
 But these and many other diversions were repeat- 
 ed till they lost all their charm, and the nights and 
 noondays were beginning to move heavily, when at 
 length it was recollected that among the attendants 
 sent by the bridegroom, was a young poet of Cash- 
 mere, 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 pa\'ilion of the Princess, 
 that he might help to beguile the tediousness of the
 
 22 LALLA EOOKH. 
 
 journey by some of his most agreeable recitals. At 
 the mention of a poet, Fadladeen elevated his crit- 
 ical eyebrows, and, having refreshed his faculties 
 with a dose of that delicious opium '^^ which is dis- 
 tilled from the black poppy of the Thebais, gave or- 
 ders 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 
 favorable 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 appear- 
 ance of Feramorz. He was a youth about Lalla 
 Rookh's own age, and graceful as that idol of wo- 
 men, Chrishna,^'^ — such as he appears to their young 
 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 ladies 
 of the Princess were not long in discovering that 
 the cloth which encircled his high Tartarian 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 Avith an air of 
 studied negligence ; nor did the exquisite embroid- 
 ery of his sandals escape the observation of these 
 fair critics ; who, however they might give wav to
 
 LALLA ROOKH. 23 
 
 Fadladeen upon the unimportant toi)ics 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 recita- 
 tion 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 nnich humility, that the story he was about to 
 relate was founded on the adventures of that Veiled 
 Prophet of Khorassan,"^* who, in the year of the 
 Hegira 163, created such alarm throughout the 
 Eastern Empire, made an obeisance to the Prin- 
 cess, and thus beaan : — •
 
 
 THE 
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN.'^s 
 
 In that delightful Province of the Sun, 
 
 The first of Persian lands he shines upon, 
 
 Where all the loveliest children of his beam, 
 
 Flow'rets and fruits, blush over every stream,"-^® 
 
 And, fairest of all streams, the Murga roves 
 
 Among Merou'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 
 
 Plis dazzling brow, till man could bear its light. 
 
 For, far less luminous, his votaries said. 
 
 Were even the gleams, miraculously shed 
 
 O'er ]\Ioussa's "^^ cheek,^^ when down the Mount he 
 
 trod, 
 All glowing from the presence of his God ! 
 
 On either side, with ready hearts and hands.
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 25 
 
 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 ;^^ 
 "V\niile 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 throws 
 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 Harem's curtained galleries rise. 
 Where through the silken net-work, 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 ?
 
 26 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 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 — 
 "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 fawnlike ray, 
 To the small, half-shut glances of Kathay ; ^® 
 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 ^lageant now ? this armed array ? 
 AVliat 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, 
 "Wliat dazzling mimicry of God's own power 
 Hath the bold Prophet planned to grace this hour ? 
 
 Not such the pageant now, though not less proud ; 
 Yon warrior youth, advancing from the crowd,
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 27 
 
 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 sunnner 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 ling(3red there, till peace dissolved his chains : — 
 Oh, who could, even in bondage, tread the i^lains 
 Of glorious Greece, nor feel his spirit rise 
 Kindling within him ? who, with heart and eyes, 
 Could walk where Liberty had been, nor see 
 The shining footprints of her Deity, 
 Nor feel those godlike breathings in the air, 
 Wliich mutely told her spirit had been there ? 
 Not he, that youthful warrior, — no, too well 
 For his sovU's quiet worked th' 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- 
 kind, 
 Of men to Gods exalted and refined, — 
 False views, like that horizon's fair deceit, 
 Where earth and heaven but seem, alas, to meet ! —
 
 28 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 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 sununons ; every chosen blade 
 That fought beneath that banner's sacred text 
 Seemed doubly edged, for this world and 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 
 AVith pious awe, before that Silver Veil, 
 Believes the form, to which fie bends his knee, 
 Some pure, i*edeeming angel, sent to free 
 This fettered world from every bond and stain, 
 And bring its primal glories back again ! 
 
 Low as young Azim knelt, that motley crowd 
 Of all earth's nations sunk the knee and bowed. 
 With shouts of " Alla ! " echoing 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
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 29 
 
 " Of that existence, through whose varied range, — 
 " As through a torch-race, where, from hand to hand 
 " The flying youths transmit their sliining brand, 
 " From frame to frame the unextinguished soul 
 " Rapidly passes, till it reach the goal ! 
 
 " Nor think 't is only the gross Spirits, warmed 
 " AVith duskier fire and for earth's medium formed, 
 " That run this course ; — Beings, the most divine, 
 " Thus deign through dark mortality to shine. 
 " Such was the Essence that in Adam dwelt, 
 " To which all Heaven, except the Proud One, 
 
 knelt : ^2 
 " 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 MoiiAiiMED 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
 
 30 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Those Persian hangings, that but ill could screen 
 The Harem's loveliness, white hands were seen 
 Waving embroidered scarfs, whose motion gave 
 A perfume forth — like those the Houries wave 
 When beck'ning to their bowers th' immortal Brave. 
 
 " But these," jjursued the Chief, " are truths sub- 
 lime, 
 " That claim a holier mood and calmer time 
 " Than earth allows us now ; — this sword must first 
 " The darkling prison-house of Mankind biu'st, 
 " 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 down 
 '' His broken chain, the tyrant Lord his crown, 
 " 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 stalling 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 splendors now, 
 " And gladdened Earth shall, through her wide ex- 
 panse, 
 " Bask in the glories of this countenance !
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 31 
 
 " For thee, young warrior, welcome ! — thou hast yet 
 " Some tasks to learn, some frailties to forget, 
 " Ere the white war-plume o'er thy brow can wave ; 
 " But, once njy 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 likg Alla's own ! 
 The yoimg all dazzled by the plumes and lances, 
 The glittering throne, and Harem's half-caught 
 
 glances ; 
 The old deep pondering on the promised reign 
 Of peace and truth ; and all the female train 
 Eeady to risk their eyes, could they but gaze 
 A moment on that brow's miraculous blaze ! 
 
 But thex'e 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 kneeling at the Prophet's throne. 
 
 Ah Zelica ! there was a time, when bliss 
 Shone o'er thy heart from every look of his ; 
 When but to see him, hear him, breathe the air 
 In which he dwelt, was thy soul's fondest prayer ; 
 When round him hung such a perjietual spell,
 
 32 LALLA ROOKIT. 
 
 Whate'ei* he did, none ever did so well. 
 
 Too happy days ! when, if he touched a flower 
 
 Or gem of thine, 't was 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, ah ! not bright for thee ; 
 
 No — dread, unlocked 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, 
 
 Li 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 ! 
 
 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 ; —
 
 VEILED PKOPHET OF KIIOKASSAN. 33 
 
 There, on the banks of that briglit river born, 
 The flowers, that hung above its wave at morn, 
 Blessed not the waters, as they murmured by. 
 With hoHer scent and histre, than the sigh 
 And virgin-glance of fii-st affection cast 
 Upon their youth's smooth current, as it jiassed ! 
 But war distui'bed this vision, — far away 
 From her fond eyes summoned to join th' array 
 Of Persia's warriors 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 wildfire, and Love's gentle chains 
 For bleeding bondage on Byzantium's plains. 
 
 Month after month, in widowhood of som 
 Drooping, the maiden saw two summers roll 
 Their suns away — but ah ! how cold and dim 
 Even summer suns, when not beheld with him ! 
 From time to time ill-omened rumors came. 
 Like spirit-tongues, nuitt'ring the sick man's name, 
 Just ere he dies : — at length those sounds of dread 
 Fell with'ring on her soul, " Azim is dead ! " 
 Oh 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 days its master-chord was broken ! 
 Fond maid, the sorrow of her soul was such, 
 3
 
 34 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Even reason sunk, — blighted beneath its touch ; 
 And though, ere long, her sanguine spirit rose 
 Above the first dead jiressure 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 tvu-ned astray ; — 
 A wand'ring bark, upon whose pathway shone 
 All stars of heaven, except the guiding one ! 
 Again she smiled, nay, much and brightly smiled, 
 But 't was a lustre strange, unreal, wild ; 
 And when she sung to her lute's touching strain, 
 'T was like the notes, half ecstasy, half pain. 
 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, w^hich, around 
 The Eastern world, in every region blest 
 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 mirid. 
 All fire at once the madd'ning zeal she caught ; —
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 35 
 
 Elect of Paradise ! blest, rapturous thought ! 
 
 Predestined bride, in heaven's eternal dome. 
 
 Of some brave youth — ha ! durst they say " of 
 
 some f " 
 No — of the one, one only object traced 
 In her heart's core too deep to be effaced ; 
 The one whose memory, fresh as life, is twined 
 With every broken link of her lost mind ; 
 Whose image lives, though Reason's self be wrecked. 
 Safe 'mid the ruins of her intellect ! 
 
 Alas, poor Zelica ! it needed all 
 The fantasy, which held thy mind in thrall, 
 To see in that gay Harem'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 
 P'rom 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 favorites, proudly first 
 In zeal and charms, — too well th' Impostor nursed 
 Her soul's delirium, in whose active flame,
 
 86 LALLA KOOKH. 
 
 Thus lighting up a young, hixuriant 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 witcliery ; — all the skill 
 His demons taught him was employed to fill 
 Her mind with gloom and ecstasy by turns, — 
 That gloom, through which Frenzy but fiercer burns ; 
 That ecstasy, which from the depth of sadness 
 Glares like the maniac's moon, whose light is mad- 
 ness. 
 
 'T was from a brilliant banquet, where the soimd 
 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 youthfid love 
 E'er wished or dreamed, she should forever rove 
 Through fields of fragrance by her Azim's side. 
 His own blessed, purified, eternal bride ! — 
 'T was 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 
 "\Vliich 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,
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 37 
 
 Seemed, tlirough the bluish death-Ught round them 
 
 cast, 
 To move their lipvS in mutterings as she passed, — 
 There, in that awful place, when each had quaffed 
 And pledged in silence such a fearful draught. 
 Such — oh ! the look and taste of that red bowl 
 Will haunt her till she dies — he bound her soul 
 By a dark oath, in hell's own language framed, 
 Never, while earth his mystic presence claimed. 
 While the 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 Harem 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 Harem kneel, her prostrate worshippers ! 
 Well might Mokanna think 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
 
 38 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 As are the momentary meteors sent 
 
 Across th' uncalm, but beauteous firmament. 
 
 And then her look — oh ! where 's the heart so wise 
 
 Could unbewildered meet those matchless eyes ? 
 
 Quick, restless, strange, but exquisite withal, 
 
 Like those of angels, just before their fall ; 
 
 Now shadowed with the shames of earth — now crost 
 
 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, delighted 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 ; 
 Wlien — 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. 
 
 O 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 day-beam bursts again ;
 
 VEILED rEOPIIET OF KHORASSAN. 39 
 
 And how, like forts, to wliich beleagiierers win 
 Unhoped-for entrance through some friend within, 
 One clear idea, wakened in the breast 
 By memory's magic, lets in all the rest. 
 Would it were thus, imhappy girl, with thee ! 
 But though light came, it came but partially ; 
 Enough to show the maze, in which thy sense 
 Wandered about, — but not U) guide it thence ; 
 Enough to glimmer o'er the yawning wave, 
 But not to point the harbor which might save. 
 Hours of delight and peace, long left behind, 
 With that dear form came rushing o'er her mind ; 
 But, oh ! to think how deep her soul had gone 
 In shame and falsehood since those moments shone ; 
 And, then, her oath — there madness lay again, 
 Aiid, shuddering, back she sunk into her chain 
 Of mental darkness, as if blest to flee 
 From light, whose every glimpse was agony ! 
 Yet, one relief this glance of former years 
 Brought, mingled with its pain, — teai-s, floods of 
 
 tears. 
 Long frozen at her heart, but now like rills 
 Let loose in springtime 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 
 (A summons proud and rare, which all but she, 
 And she, till now, had heard with ecstasy,)
 
 40 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 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 favor 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 even across the desp'rate wanderings 
 Of a weak intellect, whose lamp was out. 
 Threw startling shadows of dismay and doubt ; — 
 Yet zeal, ambition, her tremendous vow, 
 The thought, still haunting her, of that bright brow, 
 Wliose 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. 
 Even purer than before, — as perfumes rise 
 Through flame and smoke, most welcome to the 
 
 skies, — 
 And that when Azim's fond, divine embrace 
 Should circle her in Heaven, no dark'ning trace
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KIIORASSAN. 41 
 
 Would on that bosom he once loved remain. 
 But all be bright, be pure, be his again ! — 
 These were the wildering dreams, whose curst deceit 
 Had chained her soul beneath the tempter's feet, 
 And made her think even damning falsehood sweet. 
 But now that Shape, which had appalled her view, 
 That Semblance — oh, how terrible, if true ! — 
 "VVliich 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 bear, 
 And waking up each long-lulled image there, s. 
 
 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, pond'ring alone his impious schemes, 
 MoKANNA waited her — too wrapt in dreams 
 Of the fair-rip'ning future's rich success, 
 To heed the sorrow, pale and spiritless. 
 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' imechoing ground, — 
 From that wild Zelica, whose every glance 
 Was thrilling fire, whose every thought a trance !
 
 42 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Upon liis couch the Veiled Mokanna lay, 
 While lamps around — not such as lend their ray, 
 Glimmering and cold, to those who nightly pray 
 In holy KooM,*^ or Mecca's dim arcades, 
 But brilliant, soft, such lights as lovely maids 
 Look loveliest 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 wluch his curtained lips full many a draught 
 Took zealously, as if each drop they quaffed, 
 Like Zemzem's Spring of Holiness,^" had power 
 To freshen the soul's virtues into flower ! 
 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 sjwke : — 
 " Yes, ye \ale 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 tlie neck 
 " Of your fouJ race, and without fear or check, 
 '• Luxuriating in hate, avenge my shame,
 
 ■ llllllllliiillliiiiiiiii
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAX. 43 
 
 " My deep-felt, long-nurst loathing of man's name ! — 
 
 " Soon at the head of myriads, blind and fierce 
 
 " As hooded falcons, through the universe 
 
 " I '11 sweep my dark'ning, desolating way, 
 
 " Weak man my instriunent, curst man my prey ! 
 
 " Ye wise, ye learned, who grope your dull way on 
 " By the chm twinkling gleams of ages gone, 
 " Like superstitious thieves, who think the light 
 " From dead men's marrow guides them best at 
 
 night — ^^ 
 " Ye shall have honors — wealth — yes. Sages, 
 
 yes — 
 " I know, grave fools, your wisdom's nothingness ; 
 " Undazzled it can track yon starry sphere, 
 '• But a gilt stick, a bawble blinds it here. 
 " How I shall laugh, when trumpeted along, 
 " In lying speech, and still more lying song, 
 '• By these learned slaves, the meanest of the throng ; 
 " Their wits bought up, their Avisdom shrunk so small, 
 " A sceptre's puny point can Avield it all ! 
 
 " Ye too, believers of incredible creeds, 
 " Whose faith enshrines the monsters which it 
 
 breeds ; 
 " Who, bolder even than Nejirod, think to rise, 
 " By nonsense heaped on nonsense, to the skies ; 
 '' Ye shall have miracles, aye, sound ones too, 
 " Seen, heard, attested, eveiything — but true. 
 '' Your preaching zealots, too inspired to seek
 
 44 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " One grace of meaning for the tilings they speak ; 
 
 " Your martyrs, ready to shed out their blood, 
 
 " For truths too heavenly to be understood ; 
 
 " And your State Priests, sole vendors of the lore, 
 
 " That works salvation ; — as, on Ava's shore, 
 
 " Where none hut priests are privileged to trade 
 
 *' In that best marble of which gods are made ; ^* 
 
 " They shall have mysteries — aye, precious stuff 
 
 " For knaves to thrive by — mysteries enough ; 
 
 " Dark, tangled doctrines, dark as fraud can weave, 
 
 " Wliich simple votaries shall on trust receive, 
 
 " While craftier feign belief, till they believe. 
 
 " A heaven too ye nuist have, ye lords of dust, — 
 
 " A splendid Paradise, — pure souls, ye must : 
 
 " That Prophet ill sustains his holy call, 
 
 " Who finds not heavens to suit the tastes of all ; 
 
 " Houries for boys, omniscience for sages, 
 
 " And wings and glories for all ranks and ages. 
 
 " Vain things ! — as lust or vanity insjiires, 
 
 " The heaven of each is but what each desires, 
 
 " And, soul or sense, whate'er the object be, 
 
 " Man would be man to all eternity ! 
 
 " So let liim — Eblis ! grant this crowning curse, 
 
 " But keep him wliat he is, no hell were worse." 
 
 " Oh my lost soul ! " exclaimed the shuddering 
 maid. 
 Whose ears had drunk like poison all he said : — 
 Mo K ANN A started — not abashed, afraid, — 
 He knew no more of fear than one who dwells
 
 VEILED I'llOPIlET OF KHOKASSAN. 45 
 
 Beneath the tropics knows of icicles ! 
 
 But in those dismal words that reached his ear, 
 
 " Oh my lost sold ! " there was a sound so drear, 
 
 So like that voice, among the sinful dead, 
 
 In which the legend o'er Hell's Gate is read, 
 
 That, new as 't was from her, whom naught could 
 
 dim 
 Or sink till now. it startled even him. 
 
 " Ha, my fair Priestess ! " thus, with ready wile, 
 Th' Impostor turned to greet her — " thou whose 
 
 smile 
 " Hath inspiration in its rosy beam 
 " Beyond th' Enthusiast's hope or Prophet's dream ; 
 " Light of the faith ! who twin'st religion's zeal 
 " So close with love's, men know not which they feel, 
 "• Nor which to sigh for, in their trance of heart, 
 " The heaven thou preachest or the heaven thou 
 
 art! 
 " AVhat should I be without thee ? without thee 
 " How dull were power, how joyless victory ! 
 " Though borne by angels, if that smile of thine 
 "■ Blessed not my banner, 't were but half divine. 
 " But — why so mournful, child ? those eyes, that 
 
 shone 
 '' All life last night — what ! — is their glory gone ? 
 •' Come, come — this morn's fatigue hath made them 
 
 pale, 
 " They want rekindling — suns themselves would 
 
 fail
 
 40 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " Did not their comets bring, as I to thee, 
 
 " From light's own fount supplies of brilliancy. 
 
 " Thou seest this cup — no juice of earth is here, 
 
 " But the pure waters of that upper sphere, 
 
 " Whose rills o'er ruby beds and topaz flow, 
 
 " Catching the gem's bright color as they go. 
 
 " Nightly my genii come and fill these urns — 
 
 " Nay, drink — in every drop life's essence burns ; 
 
 " 'T will make that soul all fire, those eyes all 
 
 light - 
 " Come, come, I want thy loveliest smiles to-night : 
 " There is a youth — why start ? — thou saw'st him 
 
 then ; 
 " Looked he not nobly ? such the godlike men 
 " Thou 'It have to woo thee in the bowers above ; — 
 " Though he, I fear, hath thoughts too stern for love, 
 " Too ruled by that cold enemy of bliss 
 " The world calls virtue — we must conquer this ; 
 " Nay, shrink not, pretty sage ! 't is not for thee 
 " To scan the mazes of Heaven's mystery : 
 " The steel must pass through fire, ere it can yield 
 " Fit instruments for mighty hands to wield. 
 " This very night I mean to try the art 
 " Of powerful beauty on that warrior's heart. 
 " All that my Harem boasts of bloom and wit, 
 " Of skill and charms, most rare and exquisite, 
 " Shall tempt the boy : — young Mirzala's blue 
 
 eyes, 
 " Whose sleepy lid like snow on violets lies ; 
 '•' Arouya's cheeks, warm as a spring-day sun,
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN, 47 
 
 " And lips that, like the seal of Solomon, 
 
 " Have magic in their pressure ; Zeba's lute, 
 
 " And Lilla's dancing feet, that gleam and shoot 
 
 " Rapid and white as sea-birds o'er the deep — 
 
 " All shall combine their witching powers to steep 
 
 " My convert's spirit in that softening trance, 
 
 " From which to heaven is but the next advance ; — 
 
 " That glowing, yielding fusion of the breast, 
 
 " On which Religion stamps her image best. 
 
 " But hear me. Priestess ! — though each nymph of 
 
 these 
 " Hath some peculiar, practised power to please, 
 " Some glance or step which, at the mirror tried, 
 " First charms herself, then all the world beside ; 
 " There still wants one, to make the victory sure, 
 " One who in every look joins every lure ; 
 " Through whom all beauty's beams concentred 
 
 pass, 
 " Dazzling and warm, as through love's burning 
 
 glass ; 
 " Wliose gentle lips persuade without a word, 
 " Wliose words, even when unmeaning, are adored, 
 " Like inarticulate breathings from a shrine, 
 " Which our faith takes for granted are divine ! 
 " Such is the nymph we want, all warmth and light, 
 " To crown the rich temptations of to-night ; 
 " Such the refined enchantress that must be 
 " This hero's vanquisher, — and thou art she ! " 
 
 With her hands clasped, her lips apart and pale,
 
 48 LALLA KOOKH. 
 
 The maid had stood, gazing upon the Veil 
 
 From which these words, like south winds through a 
 
 fence, 
 Of Kerzrah flowers, came filled with jiestilence ; ^^ 
 So boldly uttered, too ! as if all dread 
 Of frowns from her, of virtuous frowns were fled, 
 And the wretch felt assured that, once plunged in, 
 Her woman's soul would know no pause in sin I 
 
 At first, though mute she listened, like a dream 
 Seemed all he said : nor could her mind, whose beam 
 As yet was weak, penetrate half his scheme. 
 But when, at length, he uttered, " Thou art she ! " 
 All flashed at once, and shrieking piteously, 
 " Oh, not for worlds ! " she cried : " Great God ! to 
 
 whom 
 " I once knelt innocent, is this my doom ? 
 " Are all my dreams, my hopes of heavenly bliss, 
 " My purity, my pride, then come to this, — 
 " To live, the wanton of a fiend ! to be 
 " The pander of his guilt — oh infamy ! 
 " And sunk, myself, as low as hell can steep 
 " In its hot flood, drag others down as deep ? 
 " Others — ha ! yes — that youth who came to-day — 
 " Not him I loved — not him — oh ! do but say, 
 " But swear to me this moment 't is not he, 
 " And I will serve, dark fiend, will worship even 
 
 thee ! " 
 
 " Beware, young raving thing ! — in time beware,
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 49 
 
 " Nor utter what I cannot, must not bear, 
 
 " Even from thy lips. Go — try thy hite, thy voice, 
 
 " The boy must feel their magic ; — I rejoice 
 
 " To see those fires, no matter whence they rise, 
 
 " Once more illuming my fair Priestess' eyes ; 
 
 " And should the youth, whom soon those eyes shall 
 
 warm, 
 " Indeed resemble thy dead lover's form, 
 " So much the happier wilt thou find thy doom, 
 " As one warm lover, full of life and bloom, 
 " Excels ten thousand cold ones in the tomb. 
 " Nay, nay, no frowning, sweet ! — those eyes were 
 
 made 
 " For love, not anger — I must be obeyed." 
 
 " Obeyed ! — 't is well — yes, I deserve it all — 
 " On me, on me Heaven's vengeance cannot fall 
 " Too heavily — but Azim, brave and true 
 " And beautiful — must he be ruined too ? 
 " Must he too, glorious as he is, be driven 
 " A renegade like me from Love and Heaven ? 
 " Like me ? — weak wretch, I wrong him — not like 
 
 me ; 
 " No — he 's all truth and strength and pin-ity ! 
 " Fill up your madd'ning hell-cup to the brim, 
 " Its witch'ry, fiends, will have no charm for him. 
 " Let loose your glowing wantons from their bowers, 
 " He loves, he loves, and can defy their powers ! 
 " Wretch as I am, in his heart still I reign 
 " Pure as when first we met, without a stain !
 
 50 LALLA ROOKTI. 
 
 " Though ruined — lost — my memory, like a charm 
 
 " Left by the dead, still keeps his soul from harm. 
 
 " Oh ! never let him know how deep the brow 
 
 " He kissed at parting is dishonored now ; — 
 
 " Ne'er tell him how debased, how sunk is she, 
 
 " Wliom once he loved — once ! — still loves dotingly. 
 
 " Thou laugh'st, tormentor, — what ! — thou 'It brand 
 
 my name ? 
 " Do, do — in vain — he '11 not believe my shame ; 
 " He thinks me true, that natight beneatli God's sky 
 " Could tempt or change me, and — so once thought I. 
 " But this is past — though worse than death my lot, 
 " Than hell — 't is nothing while he knows it not. 
 " Far off to some benighted land I '11 fly, 
 " Wliere sunbeam ne'er shall enter till T die ; 
 " Where none will ask the lost one whence she came, 
 " But I may fade and fall without a name. 
 " And thou — curst man or fiend, whate'er thou art, 
 " Who found'st this burning plague-spot in my heart, 
 " And spread'st it — oh, so quick ! — through soul 
 
 and frame, 
 " With more than demon's art, till I became 
 " A loathsome thing, all pestilence, all flame ! — 
 
 " If, when I 'm gone " 
 
 " Hold, fearless maniac, hold, 
 " Nor tempt my rage — by Heaven, not half so bold 
 " The puny bird, that dares with teasing hum 
 " Within the crocodile's stretched jaws to come ! ^^ 
 " And so thou 'It fly, forsooth ? — what ! — give up all 
 " Thy chaste dominion in the Harem Hall,
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 51 
 
 " Where now to Love and now to Alla given, 
 
 " Half mistress and half saint, thou hang'st as even 
 
 " As doth Medina's tomb, 'twixt hell and heaven ! 
 
 " Thou 'It fly ! — as easily may reptiles run, 
 
 " The gaunt snake once hath fixed his eyes upon ; 
 
 " As easily, when caught, the prey may be 
 
 " Plucked from his loving folds, as thou from me. 
 
 " No, no, 't is fixed — let good or ill betide, 
 
 " Thou 'rt mine till death, till death Mokanna's 
 
 bride ! 
 " Hast thou forgot thy oath ? " — 
 
 At this dread word, 
 The Maid, whose spirit his rude taunts had stirred 
 Through all its depths, and roused an anger there. 
 That burst and lightened even through her despair — 
 Shrunk back, as if a blight were in the breath 
 That spoke that word, and staggered pale as death. 
 
 " Yes, my sworn bride, let others seek in bowers 
 " Their bridal place — the charnel vault was ours ! 
 " Instead of scents and balms, for thee and me 
 " Rose the rich steams of sweet mortality ; 
 " Gay, flickering death-lights shone while we were 
 
 wed, 
 " And, for our guests, a row of goodly Dead, 
 " (Immortal spirits in their time, no doubt,) 
 " From reeking shrouds upon the rite looked out ! 
 " That oath thou heard'st more lips than thine re- 
 peat — 
 " That cup — thou shudd'rest, Lady, — was it sweet ?
 
 52 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " That cup we pledged, the charnel's choicest wine, 
 
 " Hath bound thee — aye — body and soul all mine 
 
 " Bound thee by chains that, whether blest or curst 
 
 " No matter now, not hell itself shall burst ! 
 
 " Hence, woman, to the Harem, and look gay, 
 
 " Look wild, look — anything but sad ; yet stay — 
 
 " One moment more — from what this night hath 
 
 passed, 
 " I see thou know'st me, know'st me well at last. 
 " Ha ! ha ! and so, fond thing, thou thought'st all 
 
 true, 
 " And that I love mankind ? — I do, I do — 
 " As victims, love them ; as the sea-dog doats 
 " Upon the small, sweet fry that round him floats ; 
 " Or, as the Nile-bird loves the slime that gives 
 " That rank and venomous food on which she 
 
 lives ! 5^ 
 
 " And, now thou seest my soiiVs angelic hue, 
 " 'T is time these features were uncurtained too ; — 
 " This brow, whose light — oh, rare celestial light ! 
 " Hath been reserved to bless thy favored siglit ; 
 " These dazzling eyes, before whose shrouded might 
 " Thou 'st seen immortal Man kneel down and 
 
 quake — 
 " Would that they toere heaven's lightnings for his 
 
 sake ! 
 " But turn and look — then wonder, if thou wilt, 
 " That I should hate, should take revenge, by guilt, 
 " Upon the hand, whose mischief or whose mirth
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 53 
 
 
 
 " Sent me thus maimed and monstrous upon earth ; 
 " And on that race who, though more vile they be 
 " Than mowing apes, are demi-gods to me ! 
 " Here — judge if hell, with all its power to damn, 
 " Can add one curse to the foul thing I am ! " — 
 
 He raised his veil — the Maid turned slowly 
 round, 
 Looked at him — shrieked — and sunk upon the 
 "•round !
 
 On their arrival, next night, at the place of en- 
 campment, they were surprised and delighted to 
 find the groves all around illuminated ; some artists 
 of Yamtcheou ®^ having been sent on previously for 
 the purpose. On each side of the green alley, 
 which led to the Royal Pavilion, artificial sceneries 
 of bamboo-work ^^ were erected, representing arches, 
 minarets, and towers, from which hung thousands 
 of silken lanterns, painted by the most delicate pen- 
 cils of Canton. Nothing could be more beautiful 
 than the leaves of the mango-trees and acacias, 
 shining in the light of the bamboo-scenery, which 
 shed a lustre round as soft as that of the nights of 
 Peristan. 
 
 Lalla Rookh, however, who was too much oc- 
 cupied by the sad story of Zelica and her lover 
 to give a thought to anything else, except, perhaps, 
 him who related it, hurried on through this scene of 
 splendor to her pavilion, — greatly to the mortifi- 
 cation of the poor artists of Yamtcheou, — and was 
 followed with equal rapidity by the Great Chamber- 
 lain, cursing, as he went, that ancient Mandarin, 
 whose parental anxiety in lighting up the shores of 
 the lake, where his beloved daughter had wandered
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 55 
 
 and been lost, was the origin of these fantastic Chi- 
 nese illuminations.^" 
 
 Without a moment's delay, young Feramorz was 
 introduced, and Fadladeen, who could never make 
 up his mind as to the merits of a poet, till he knew 
 the I'eligious sect to which he belonged, was about 
 to ask him whether he was a Shia or a Sooni, when 
 Lalla Rookh impatiently clapped her hands for 
 silence, and the youth, being seated upon the mus- 
 nud near her, proceeded : —
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 Prepake thy soul, young Azim ! — thou hast 
 
 braved 
 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 warfare, from the flash 
 That lightens boldly through the shadowy lash, 
 To the sly, stealing splendors, almost hid, 
 Like swords 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 Harem chambers, moving lights 
 And busy shapes proclaim the toilet's rites ; —
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 57 
 
 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 one eye shone, 
 
 Like Seba's Queen could vanquish with that 
 
 one : — ^^ 
 Wliile some bring leaves of Henna, to imbue 
 The fingers' ends with a bright I'oseate 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 
 Are gone by moonlight to the garden-beds. 
 To gather fresh, cool chaplets for their heads ; — 
 Gay creatures ! sweet, though mournful, 't is to see 
 How each prefers a garland from that tree 
 Wliich brings to mind her childhood's innocent 
 
 day. 
 And the dear fields and friendships far away. 
 The maid of India, blest 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
 
 58 LALLA KOOKH. 
 
 Just dripping from the consecrated stream ; 
 Wliile tlie 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 even its sorrows back again ! 
 
 Meanwhile, through 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 sjiicy 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 on 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 Avith arabesques of gold and flowers :
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 59 
 
 And the mosaic floor beneath shines through 
 The sprinkling of that fountain's silv'ry dew, 
 Like the wet, glistening shells, of every dye, 
 That on the margin of the Red Sea lie. 
 
 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 ; 
 AA'hile, on the other, latticed lightly in 
 With odoriferous woods of Comokin,''^ 
 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 thrush 
 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 '^^ 
 Whose scent hath lured them o'er the summer . 
 
 flood ; ^« 
 And those that under Araby's soft sun 
 Build their high nests of budding cinnamon : ''* 
 In short, all rare and beauteous things that fly 
 Through the pure element, here calmly lie
 
 60 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Sleeping in light, like the green birds "^ that dwell 
 In Eden's radiant fields of asjihodel ! 
 
 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 even in Pleasure's porch, 
 Than the pure dwelling of a Prophet sent. 
 Armed with Heaven's sword, for man's enfranchise- 
 ment, — 
 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. 
 
 " 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 \artue 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 ; 
 " Oh ! not beneath th' enfeebling, withering glow 
 " Of such dull luxury did those myrtles grow, 
 " With which she Avreathed her sword, when she 
 
 would dare
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 61 
 
 " Immortal deeds ; but in the bracing air 
 
 " Of toil, — 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 two 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, whom God 
 
 " Has sent to break the wizard Falsehood's rod, — 
 
 " A Prophet of the Truth, whose mission draws 
 
 " Its rights 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, 't will stand the 
 
 blaze ! " 
 
 So thought the youth ; — but, even 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
 
 62 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Of Indian bees at sunset, when they throng 
 Around the fragrant Nilica, and deep 
 In its bkie 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 much 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 
 Succeeding in smooth seas, when storms are laid 
 He thought of Zelica, his own dear maid, 
 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 
 Nought else worth looking at on this side heaven. 
 
 " 0, my loved mistress, thou, whose spirit still 
 " 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 thee 
 " I gain a smile worth immortality ! 
 " How shall 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 : —
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 63 
 
 " "When from those lips, unbreathed upon for years, 
 
 " I shall again kiss off the soul-felt 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 ? " 
 
 While thus he thinks, still nearer on the breeze 
 Come those delicious, dream-like 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 water, 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 walked, 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.
 
 64 LALLA ROOKII. 
 
 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. 
 
 Awhile they dance before him, then divide, 
 
 Breaking, like rosy clouds at even-tide 
 
 Around the rich paAilion 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 Shiras wear, 
 
 From which, on either side, gracefully hung 
 
 A nfolden amulet, in the 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 with hurried 
 
 strain, 
 Then took her trembling fingers off again. 
 But when at length a timid glance she stole 
 At Azur, the sweet gravity of soul 
 She saw through all his features calmed her fear,
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KIIORASSAX. G5 
 
 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 't was 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 Bexde- 
 
 MEER? 
 
 No, the roses soon withered that hung o'er the wave. 
 
 But some blossoms were gathered, while freshly 
 
 they shone. 
 
 And a dew was distilled from their flowers, that gave 
 
 All the fragrance of summer, when sunuiier was 
 
 gone. 
 
 Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies. 
 An essence that breathes of it many a year ; 
 5
 
 66 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Thus bright to my soul, as 't was then to my eyes, 
 Is that bower on the banks of the cahn Bende- 
 
 " Poor maiden ! " thought the youth, " if thou wert 
 sent, 
 " With thy soft kite and beauty's blandishment, 
 " To wake unholy wishes in this heart, 
 " Or tempt its truth, thou little knowest 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 wing new fetters twine, 
 " Than turn from virtue one pure wish of thine ! " 
 
 Scarce had this feeling passed, when, sparkling 
 through 
 The gently opened curtains of light blue 
 That veiled the 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.
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAX. 07 
 
 Two lightsome maidens spring, — lightsome as they 
 
 AVho live in th' air on odors, — 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 : — 
 
 "VYliile 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 light we never see again ! 
 
 Around the white necks of the nymphs who 
 danced 
 Hung carcanets of orient gems, that glanced 
 More brilliant than the sea-glass glittering o'er 
 The hills of crystal on the Caspian shore ; ^^ 
 While from their long, dark tresses, in a fall 
 Of curls descending, bells as musical 
 As those that, on the golden-shafted trees 
 Of Eden, shake in the eternal breeze,^^ 
 Rung round their steps, at every bound more sweet, 
 As 't were 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 with the sighs 
 Of moonlight flowers, music that seemed to rise 
 From some still lake, so liquidly it rose ;
 
 08 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 And, as it swelled 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, 
 A^^lere lips are meeting, the Spirit is there ! 
 
 His breath is the soul of flowers like these, 
 And his floating eyes — oh ! they resemble ^^ 
 
 Blue water-lilies,^'' when the breeze 
 
 Is making the stream around them tremble. 
 
 Hail to thee, hail to thee, kindling power ! 
 
 Spirit of Love, Spirit of Bliss ! 
 Thy holiest time is the moonlight hour, 
 
 And there never was moonlight so sweet as this. 
 
 By the fair and brave 
 
 Who blushing unite. 
 Like the sim and wave. 
 
 When they meet at night ; 
 
 By the tear that shows 
 
 When passion is nigh. 
 As the rain-drop flows 
 
 From the heat of the sky ;
 
 VEILED TROPHET OF KHOKASSAN. G9 
 
 By the firet love-beat 
 
 Of the youthful heart, 
 By the bliss to meet, 
 
 And the pain to part ; 
 
 By all that thou hast 
 
 To mortals given, 
 Wliich — oh, 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 was moonlitrht so sweet as this. 
 
 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 youth had started up, and turned away 
 From the light nymphs, and their luxin-ious lay, 
 To muse upon the pictures that himg 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 ;
 
 70 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Nor yet too warm, but touched with that fine art 
 Which paints of pleasure but the purer part ; 
 Which knows even Beauty when half-veiled is best,— 
 Like her own radiant planet of the west, 
 Whose orb w'hen half retired looks lovelicst.^^ 
 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 blest 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 hoth be won ; 
 And here Mohammed, born for love and guile. 
 Forgets the Koran in his Maky's smile ; — 
 Then beckons some kind angel from above 
 With a new text to consecrate their love.^^ 
 
 With rapid step, yet pleased and lingering eye, 
 Did the youth 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 nuisic, now less near, 
 Breathed with a holier language on his ear. 
 As though the distance, and that heavenly ray 
 Through which the sounds came floating, took away 
 All that had been too earthly in the lay.
 
 VEILED PEOPHET OF KHORASSAX. 7i 
 
 Oh ! could he listen to such sounds unmoved, 
 And by that light — nor dream of her he loved ? 
 Dream on, imconscious boy ! while yet thou niay'st ; 
 'T is the last bliss thy soul shall ever taste. 
 Clas}} yet awhile her image to thy heart, 
 Ere all the light, that made it dear, depart. 
 Think of her smiles as when thou sawest them last, 
 Clear, beautiful, by nought of earth o'ercast ; 
 Eecall 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. 
 Oh ! 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, 
 Against a pillar near ; — not glittering o'er 
 With gems and wreaths, such as the others wore. 
 But in that deep-blue, melancholy dress,^^
 
 72 LALLA ROOKII. 
 
 Bokhara's maidens wear in mindfulness 
 
 Of friends or kindred, dead or far away ; — 
 
 And such as Zelica had on that day 
 
 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 comi^assion ever waked before ; 
 Unconsciously he opes his arms, while she 
 Springs forward, as with life's last energy, 
 But, swooning in that one convulsive bound. 
 Sinks, ere she reach his arms, upon the grou id ; — 
 Her veil falls off — her faint hands clasj) his knees 
 'T is she herself! — 't is Zelica he sees ! 
 But, ah, so pale, so changed — none but a lover 
 Could in that wreck of beauty's shrine discover 
 The once adored divinity — even 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, Avhom he so long had known 
 In joy and sorrow, beautiful in both ; 
 Who, even when grief was heaviest — when loth 
 He left her for the wars — in that worst hour 
 Sat in her sorrow like the sweet night-flower,^* 
 Wlien darkness brings its weeping glories out, 
 And spreads its sighs like frankincense about. 
 
 " Look up, my Zelica — one moment show
 
 VEILED PKOl'HET OF KIIOKASSAN. 73 
 
 '' 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 deai' glance, 
 
 " Like those of old, were heaven ! whatever chance 
 
 " Hath brought thee here, oh, 't was a blessed one ! 
 
 " There — my loved lii^s — they move — that kiss 
 
 hath run 
 " Like the first shoot of life through every vein, 
 " And now I clasp her, mine, all mine again. 
 " Oh the delight — now, in this very hour, 
 " When had the whole rich world been in my power, 
 " I should have singled out thee, only thee, 
 " From the whole world's collected treasury — 
 " To have thee here — to hang thus fondly o'er 
 '• My own, best, pm-est Zelica once more ! " 
 
 It was indeed the touch of those fond lijDS 
 Upon her eyes that chased their short eclipse, 
 And, gradual as the snow, 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, even for that tranced minute. 
 So near his heart, had consolation in it ; 
 And thus to wake in his beloved caress 
 Took from her soul one half its wretchedness. 
 But. when she heard him call her good and pure, 
 Oh, 't was too much — too dreadful to endure !
 
 74 LALLA ROOKII. 
 
 Shudd'ring she broke away from his embrace, 
 And, hiding with both hands lier guilty face. 
 Said, in a tone whose anguish would have riven 
 A heart of very marble, " Pure ! — Heav- 
 en ! " 
 
 That tone — those looks so changed — the wither- 
 ing 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 jolace, 
 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 — whate'er the hand, 
 That could from Heaven and him such brightness 
 
 sever, 
 'T is done — to Heaven and him she 's lost forever ! 
 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 osolate.
 
 ,#^'~^
 
 VEILED PKOPHET OF KHOKASSAN. 75 
 
 " Oh ! 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, Azui, why 
 " Did we not, both of us, that instant die 
 " When we were parted ? oh ! could'st 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. 
 " Did'st thou but know how pale I sat at home, 
 " INIy eyes still turned the way thou wert to come, 
 " And, all the long, long night of hope and fear, 
 " Thy voice and step still sounding in my ear — 
 " O God ! thou would"st not wonder that, at last, 
 " Wlien every hope was all at once o'ercast, 
 " When I heard frightful voices round me say 
 " Azim 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 even this quenchless love within
 
 76 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " Turned to foul fires to light me into sin. I — 
 
 " Thou pitiest me — I knew thou would'st — that 
 
 sky 
 " Hath nought beneath it half so lorn as I. 
 " The fiend, who lured me hither — hist ! come near, 
 " Or thou too, thou art lost, if he should hear — 
 " Told me such things — oh ! with such devilish art. 
 " As would have ruined even a holier heart — 
 " Of thee, and of that ever-radiant sphere, 
 " Where blessed at length, if I but served him here, 
 " I should forever live in tliy dear sight, 
 " And drink from those pure eyes eternal light. 
 " Think, think how lost, how maddened I must be, 
 " To hope that guilt could lead to God or thee ! 
 " Thou weej^est for me — do weep — oh, that I 
 
 durst 
 " Kiss off that tear ! but, no — these lips are curst, 
 " They must not touch thee ; — one divine caress, 
 " One blessed moment of forgetfulness 
 " 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 must go — forever go ; 
 " This place is not for thee — for thee ! oh no, 
 " Did I but tell thee half, thy tortured brain 
 " AVould burn like mine, and mine go Avild again ! 
 " Enough, that Guilt reigns here — that hearts, 
 
 once good.
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KIIORASSAN. 77 
 
 " Now tainted, chilled, and bi'oken, 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 'It be for- 
 given, 
 " As thou art here — here, in this writhing heart, 
 " All sinful, wild, and ruined as thou art ! 
 " By the remembrance of our once pure love, 
 " Which, like a church-yard light, still burns above 
 " The grave of our lost souls — which guilt in thee 
 " Cannot extinguish, nor despair in me ! 
 " I do conjure, implore thee to fly hence — 
 " If thou hast yet one spark of innocence, 
 
 " Fly with me from this place " 
 
 " With thee ! oh bliss ! 
 " T is 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 love, 
 " When we were both so happy, both so pure — 
 " Too heavenly dream ! if there 's on earth a cure 
 '.' For the sunk heart, 't is this — day after day 
 " To be the blest companion of thy way ; 
 " To hear thy angel eloquence — to see 
 " Those virtuous eyes forever turned on me ;
 
 78 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " 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 'It lift thine eyes 
 
 " Full of sweet tears, unto the dark'ning skies, 
 
 " And plead for me with Heaven, till I can dare 
 
 " To fix my own weak, sinful glances there ; 
 
 " Till the good angels, when they see me cling 
 
 " Forever near thee, pale and sorrowing, 
 
 " Shall for thy sake pronounce my soul forgiven, 
 
 " And bid thee take thy weeping slave to Heaven ! 
 
 " Oh, yes, I '11 fly with thee " 
 
 Scarce had she said 
 These breathless words, when a voice deep and dread 
 As that of MoNKEK, waking up the dead 
 From their first sleep — so startling 't was to both — 
 Rung through the casement near, " Thy oath ! thy 
 
 oath ! " 
 O Heaven, the ghastliness of that Maid's look ! — 
 " 'T is he," faintly she cried, while terror shook 
 Her inmost core, nor durst she lift her eyes. 
 Though through the casement, now, nought but the 
 
 skies 
 And moonlight fields were seen, calm as before — . 
 " 'T is he, and I am his — all, all is o'er — 
 " Gro — fly this instant, or thou 'rt ruined too — 
 " My oath, my oath, O God ! 't is all too true,
 
 VEILED rROPIIET OF KIlORASSxVN. 79 
 
 " 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, 
 " 'T was 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 — oh ! never may'st 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, cannot sunder hands ? — thus, then — for- 
 ever ! " 
 
 With all that strength, which madness lends the 
 
 weak, 
 She flung away his arm ; and, with a shriek. 
 Whose sound, though he should linger out more 
 
 years 
 Than wretch e'er told, can never leave his ears — 
 Flew up through that long avenue of light. 
 Fleetly as some dark, ominous bird of night, 
 Across the sun, and soon was out of sisjht !
 
 
 Lalla Rookh could think of nothing all day but 
 the misery of these two young lovers. Her gayety 
 was gone, and she looked pensively even upon Fad- 
 LADEEN. She felt, too, without knowing why, a sort 
 of uneasy pleasure in imagining that Azim must 
 have been just such a youth as Feramorz ; just as 
 worthy to enjoy all the blessings, without any of the 
 pangs, of that illusive passion, which too often, like 
 the sunny apples of Istkahar,^*^ is all sweetness on 
 the one side, and all bitterness on the other. 
 
 As they passed along a sequestered river after 
 sunset, they saw a young Hindoo girl upon the 
 bank,^'^ whose emjjloynient seemed to them so strange, 
 that they stopped their palankeens to observe her. 
 She had lighted a small lamp, filled with oil of cocoa, 
 and placing it in an earthen dish, adorned with a 
 wreath of flowers, had committed it with a trembling 
 hand to the stream ; and was now anxiously watch- 
 ing its progress down the current, heedless of the 
 gay cavalcade which had drawn up beside her. 
 Lalla Rookh was all curiosity; — when one of 
 her attendants, who had lived upon the banks of the 
 Ganges, (where this ceremony is so frequent, that 
 often, in the dusk of the evening, the river is seen
 
 VEILED PEOPHET OF KHOHASSAN. 81 
 
 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 shining down 
 the stream, and continued to burn till entirely out 
 of sight, the return of the beloved object was con- 
 sidered as certain. 
 
 Lalla Rookh, as they moved on, more than 
 once looked back, to observe how the young Hin- 
 doo's lamp proceeded ; and, while she saw with 
 pleasure that it was still unextinguished, 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 melan- 
 choly, which comes over the youthful maiden's heart, 
 as sweet and transient as her own breath upon a 
 mirror ; nor was it till she heard the lute of Fera- 
 ]\rORZ, touched lightly at the door of her pavilion, 
 that she waked from the reverie in which she had 
 been wandering. Instantly her eyes were lighted 
 up with pleasure ; and, after a few unheard remarks 
 from Fadladeen upon the indecorum of a jDoet 
 seating himself in presence of a Princess, everything 
 was arranged as on the preceding evening, and all 
 listened with eagerness, while the story was thus 
 continued : — 
 
 6
 
 Whose are the gilded tents that crowd the way, 
 Where all was waste and silent yesterday ? 
 Tliis City of War which, in a few short hours, 
 Hath sjjrung up here,®^ as if the magic powers 
 Of Him who, in the twinkling of a star, 
 Built the high pillared halls of Chilminar,^*'° 
 Had conjiu'ed u]), far as the eye can see, 
 This world of tents, and domes, and sun-bright 
 
 armory ; — 
 Princely pa\ilions, screened by many a fold 
 Of crimson cloth, and topped with balls of gold ; — 
 Steeds, with their housings of rich silver spun. 
 Their chains and poitrels glittering in the sun ; 
 And camels, tufted o'er with Yemen's shells,^°^ 
 Shaking in every breeze their light-toned bells ! 
 
 But yester-eve, so motionless around, 
 So mute was this wide plain, that not a sound 
 But the far torrent, or the locust-bird ^°^ 
 Hunting among the thickets, could be heard; — 
 Yet hark ! what discords now, of every kind, 
 Shouts, laughs, and screams are revelling in th^ 
 
 wind ; 
 The neigh of cavalry ; — the tinkling throngs 
 Of laden camels and their drivers' songs ; — ^"'^
 
 VEILED rilOPHET OF KHORASSAX. 83 
 
 Ringing of arms, and flapping" in the breeze 
 Of streamers from ten thousand canopies ; — 
 War-music, bursting out from time to time, 
 With gong and tymbalon's tremendous chime ; — 
 Or, in the pause, wlien harsher sounds are mute, 
 The mellow breathings of some horn or flute, 
 That far off, broken by the eagle note 
 Of th' Abyssinian trumpet,^"* swell and float. 
 
 Who leads this mighty army ? — ask ye " who ? " 
 And mai'k ye not those banners of dark hue. 
 The Night and Shadow,^"'' over yonder tent ? — r 
 It is the Caliph's glorious armament. 
 Roused in his Palace by the dread alarms, 
 That hourly came, of the false Prophet's arms, 
 And of his host of infidels, who hurled 
 Defiance fierce at Islam ^^'^ and the world, — 
 Though worn with Grecian warfare, and behind 
 The veils of his bright Palace calm reclined, 
 Yet brooked he not such blasphemy should stain, 
 Thus unrevenged, the evening of his reign ; 
 But, having sworn upon the Holy Grave,^"'^ 
 To conquer or to perish, once more gave 
 His shadowy banners proudly to the breeze. 
 And with an army, nursed in Adctories, 
 Here stands to crush the rebels that o'errun 
 His blest and beauteous Province of the Sun. 
 
 Ne'er did the march of Mahadi display 
 Such pomp before ; — not even when on his way
 
 / 
 
 84 LALLA ROOKII. 
 
 To Mecca's Temple, when both land and sea 
 
 Were spoiled to feed the Pilgrim's luxury ; ^°^ 
 
 Wlien round him, 'mid the burning sands, he saw 
 
 Fruits of the North in icy freshness thaw, 
 
 And cooled his thirsty lip, beneath the glow 
 
 Of Mecca's sun, with urns of Persian snow:^°^ — 
 
 Nor e'er did armament more grand than that 
 
 Pour from the kingdoms of the Caliphat. 
 
 First, in the van, the People of the Rock,^^° 
 
 On their light mountain steeds, of royal stock : "^ 
 
 Then, chieftains of Damascus, proud to see 
 
 The flashing of their swords' rich marquetry ; "' — 
 
 Men, from the regions near the Volga's mouth, 
 
 Mixed with the rude, black archers of the South ; 
 
 And Indian lancers, in white-turbaned ranks, 
 
 From the far Sinde, or Attock's sacred banks, 
 
 With dusky legions from the Land of Myrrh,^^^ 
 
 And many a niace-armed Moor and Mid-sea islander. 
 
 Nor less in number, though more new and rude 
 In warfare's school, was the vast multitude 
 That, fired by zeal, or by oppression wronged, 
 Round the white standard of th' impostor thronged. 
 Beside his thousands of Believers — blind, 
 Burninij and headlong as the vSamiel wind — 
 Many who felt, and more who feared to feel 
 The bloody Islamite's converting steel. 
 Flocked to his banner ; — Chiefs of th' Uzbek race. 
 Waving their heron crests with martial grace ; ^^* 
 Turkomans, countless as their flocks, led forth
 
 VEILED PKOPIIET OF KHORASSAN. 85 
 
 From th' aromatic pastures of the North ; 
 
 Wild warriors of the turquoise hills/^^ — and those 
 
 Who dAvell beyond the everlasting snows 
 
 Of IIixDOO KosH,^^® in stormy freedom bred, 
 
 Their fort the rock, their camp the torrent's bed. 
 
 But none, of all who owned the Chief's command, 
 
 Rushed to that battle-field with bolder hand, 
 
 Or sterner hate, than Iran's outlawed men, 
 
 Iler AYorshippers of Fire,^" — all panting then 
 
 For vengeance on th' accursed Saracen ; 
 
 Vengeance at last for their dear country spurned, 
 
 Her throne usurped, and her bright shrines o'er- 
 
 turned. 
 From Yezd's ^^^ eternal ^Mansion of the Fire, 
 Where aged saints in dreams of heaven expire : 
 From Badku, and those fountains of blue flame 
 That burn into the Caspian,^^^ fierce they came. 
 Careless for what or whom the blow was sped, 
 So vengeance triumphed, and their tyrants bled. 
 
 Such was the wild and miscellaneous host, 
 That high in air their motley banners tost 
 Around the Prophet-Chief — all eyes still bent 
 Upon that glittering Veil, where'er it went, 
 That beacon through the battle's stormy flood. 
 That rainbow of the field, whose showers were blood ! 
 
 Twice hath the sun upon their conflict set. 
 And risen again, and found them grappling yet ; 
 While streams of carnage in his noontide blaze,
 
 86 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Smoke up to heaven — hot as that crimson haze, 
 
 By which the prostrate Caravan is awecl,'^° 
 
 In the red Desert, when the wind 's abroad. 
 
 " On, Swords of God ! " the panting Caliph calls, — 
 
 "Thrones for the li^^ng — heaven for him who 
 
 falls ! " — 
 " On, brave avengers, on," Mokanna cries, 
 " And Eblis blast the recreant slave that flies ! " 
 Now comes the brunt, the crisis of the day — 
 They clash — they strive — the Caliph's troops 
 
 give way ! 
 Mokanna's self plucks the black Banner down, 
 And now the Orient World's Imperial crown 
 Is just within his grasp — Avhen, hark, that shout ! 
 Some hand hath checked the flying Moslem's rout ; 
 And now they turn, they rally — at their head 
 A warrior, (like those angel youths who led," 
 In glorious panoply of Heaven's own mail, 
 The Champions of the Faith through Blder's 
 
 vale,i'^i) 
 Bold as if gifted with ten thousand lives. 
 Turns on the fierce pursuers' blades, and drives 
 At once the multitudinous torrent back — 
 "V^Hiile hope and courage kindle in his track ; 
 And, at each step, his bloody falchion makes 
 Terrible vistas through which victory breaks ! 
 In vain Mokanna, midst the general flight. 
 Stands, like the red moon, on some stormy night, 
 Among the fugitive clouds that, hurrying by. 
 Leave only her unshaken in the sky —
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 87 
 
 In vain he yells his desperate curses out, 
 Deals death promiscuously to all about, 
 To foes that charge and coward friends that fly, 
 And seems of all the Great Arch-enemy. 
 The panic spreads — "A miracle ! " throughout 
 The Moslem ranks, " a miracle ! " they shout, 
 All gazing on that youth, whose coming seems 
 A light, a glory, such as breaks in dreams ; 
 And every sword, true as o'er billows dim 
 The needle tracks the loadstar, following him ! 
 
 Eight towards Mokanna now he cleaves his path, 
 Impatient cleaves, as though the bolt of Avrath 
 lie bears from Heaven withheld its awful burst 
 From weaker heads, and souls but half way curst. 
 To break o'er Him, the mightiest and the worst I 
 But vain his speed — though, in that hour of blood, 
 Had all God's seraphs round Mokanna stood. 
 With swords of fire, ready like fate to fall, 
 Mokan^na's soul would have defied them all. 
 Yet now, the rush of fugitives, too strong 
 For human force, hurries even him along ; 
 In vain he struggles 'mid the wedged array 
 Qf flying thousands — he is borne away ; 
 And the sole joy his baffled spirit knoAvs, 
 In this forced flight, is — murdering as he goes ! 
 As a grim tiger, whom the torrent's might 
 Surprises in some parched ravine at night, 
 Turns, even in drowning, on the wretched flocks, 
 Swept with him' in that snow-flood from the rocks,
 
 88 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 And, to the last, devouriTig on his way, 
 Bloodies the stream he hath not power to stay. 
 
 " Alia ilia Alia ! " — the glad shout renew — 
 " Alia Akbar ! " ^-'^ — the Caliph 's in Merou. 
 Hang out your gilded tapestry in the streets, 
 And light your shrines and chaunt your ziraleets.^'^^ 
 The swords of God have triumphed — on his throne 
 Your Caliph sits, and the veil'd Chief hath flown. 
 Who does not envy that young warrior now, 
 To whom the Lord of Islam bends his brow. 
 In all the graceful gratitude of power. 
 For his throne's safety in that perilous hour ? 
 Who doth not wonder, when, amidst th' acclaim 
 Of thousands, heralding to heaven his nanie — 
 Mid all those holier harmonies of fame. 
 Which sound along the path of virtuous souls, 
 Like music round a planet as it rolls, — 
 He turns away — coldly, as if some gloom 
 Hung o'er his heart no triumphs can illume ; — 
 Some sightless grief, upon whose blasted gaze 
 Though glory's light may play, in vain it plays ? 
 Yes, wretched Azim ! thine is such a grief, 
 Beyond all hope, all terror, all relief; 
 A dark, cold calm, which nothing now can break. 
 Or warm or brighten, — like that Syrian Lake,^-* 
 Upon whose surface morn and summer shed 
 Their smiles in vain, for all beneath is dead ! — 
 Hearts there have been, o'er which this weight of 
 woe
 
 VEILED PItOPHET OF KHORASSAN. 89 
 
 Came by long use of suffering, tame and slow ; 
 But thine, lost youth ! was sudden — over thee 
 It broke at once, when all seemed ecstasy ; 
 'WTien Hope looked up, and saw the gloomy Past 
 Melt into splendor, and Bliss dawn at last — 
 'T was then, even then, o'er joys so freshly blown, 
 This mortal blight of misery came down ; 
 Even then, the full, warm gushings of thy heart 
 Were checked — like fount-drops, frozen as they 
 
 start — 
 And there, like them, cold, sunless relics hang, 
 Each fixed and chilled into a lasting pang. 
 
 One sole desire, one passion now remains 
 To keep life's fever still within his veins. 
 Vengeance ! — dire vengeance on the wretch who 
 
 cast 
 O'er him and all he loved that ruinous blast. 
 For this, when rumors reached him in his flight 
 Far, far away, after that fatal night, — 
 Rumors of armies, thronging to th' attack 
 Of the Veiled Chief, — for this he winged him back, 
 Fleet as the vulture speeds to flags unfurled. 
 And, when all hope seemed desperate, wildly hurled 
 Himself into the scale, and saved a world. 
 For this he still lives on, careless of all 
 The wreaths that Glory on his path lets fall ; 
 For this alone exists — like lightning-fire. 
 To speed one bolt of vengeance, and expire !
 
 90 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 But safe as yet that Spirit of Evil lives ; 
 
 With a small band of desj^erate fugitives, 
 
 The last sole stubborn fragment, left unriven, 
 
 Of the proud host that late stood fronting Heaven, 
 
 He gained Merou — breathed a short curse of blood 
 
 O'er his lost throne — then passed the Jihon's 
 flood,i^5 
 
 And gathering all, whose madness of belief 
 Still saw a Saviour in their downfallen Chief, 
 Raised the white banner within Neksheb's gates,^^'' 
 And there, untamed, th' approaching conqu'ror waits. 
 
 Of all his Harem, all that busy hive, 
 "With music and with sweets sparkling alive, 
 He took but one, the partner of his flight. 
 One — not for love — not for her beauty's light — 
 No, Zelica stood withering midst the gay. 
 Wan as the blossom that fell yesterday 
 From th' Alma-tree and dies, while overhead 
 To-day's young flower is springing in its stead.-'-'' 
 Oh, not for love — the deepest damned must be 
 Touched with heaven's glory, ere such fiends as he 
 Can feel one glimpse of Love's divinity. 
 But no, she is his victim ; there lie all 
 Her charms for him — charms that can never pall. 
 As long as hell within his heart can stir. 
 Or one faint trace of Heaven is left in her. 
 To work an angel's ruin, — to behold 
 As white a page as Virtue e'er unrolled 
 Blacken, beneath his touch, into a scroll
 
 YEII.ED PROPHET OF KIIORASSAN. 91 
 
 Of damning sins, sealed with a burning soul — 
 This is his triumph ; this the joy accurst, 
 That ranks him among demons all but first : 
 This gives the victim, that before him lies 
 Blighted and lost, a glory in his eyes, 
 A light like that with which hell-fire illumes 
 The ghastly, writhing wretch whom it consumes ! 
 
 But other tasks now wait him — tasks that need 
 All the deep daringness of thought and deed 
 With which the Dives ^-* have gifted him — for mark, 
 Over yon plains, which night had else made dark, 
 Those lanterns, countless as the winged lights 
 That spangle India's fields on showery nights,^-^ — 
 Far as their formidable gleams they shed. 
 The mighty tents of the beleaguerer spread. 
 Glimmering along th' horizon's dusky line, 
 And thence in nearer circles, till they shine 
 Among the founts and groves o'er which the town 
 In all its armed magnificence looks down. 
 Yet, fearless, from his lofty battlements 
 MoKANNA views that midtitude of tents ; 
 Nay, smiles to think that, though entoiled, beset, 
 Not less than myriads dare to front him yet ; 
 That friendless, throneless, he thus stands at bay, 
 Even thus a match for myriads such as they. 
 " Oh, for a sweep of that dark Angel's wing, 
 " \Ylio brushed the thousands of th' Assyrian King ^^ 
 " To darkness in a moment, that I might 
 " People hell's chambers with yon host to-night !
 
 92 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " But, come what may, let who will grasp the throne, 
 
 " Caliph or Prophet, Man alike shall groan ; 
 
 " Let who will torture him, Priest — Caliph — 
 
 King — 
 " Alike this loathsome world of his shall ring 
 " With victims' shrieks and howlings of the slave, — 
 " Sounds, that shall glad me even within my grave ! " 
 Thus, to himself — but to the scanty train 
 Still left around him, a far different strain : — 
 " Glorious Defenders of the sacred Crown 
 " I bear from Heaven, whose light nor blood shall 
 
 drown 
 " Nor shadow of earth eclipse ; — before whose gems 
 " The paly pomp of this world's diadems, 
 " The crown of Gerashid, the pillared throne 
 " Of Parviz,^'^^ and the heron crest that shone,^*^ 
 " Magnificent, o'er Ali's beauteous eyes,^^^ 
 " Fade like the stars when morn is in the skies : 
 " Warriors, rejoice — the port to which we 've passed 
 " O'er Destiny's dark wave, beams out at last ! 
 " Victory 's our own — 't is written in that Book 
 " Upon whose leaves none but the angels look, 
 " That Islam's sceptre shall beneath the power 
 "• Of her great foe fall broken in that hour, 
 '' When the moon's mighty orb, before all eyes, 
 " From Neksheb's Holy Well portentously shall 
 
 rise ! 
 
 " Now turn and see ! " 
 
 They turned, and, as he spoke, 
 A sudden splendor all around them broke.
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 93 
 
 And they beheld an orb, ample and bright, 
 Rise from the Holy Well,^** and cast its light 
 Round the rich city and the plain for miles, ^^^ — 
 Flinging such radiance o'er the gilded tiles 
 Of many a dome and fair-roofed minaret 
 As autumn suns shed round them when they set. 
 Instant from all who saw th' illusive sign 
 A murmur broke — " INIiraculous ! divine ! " 
 The Gheber bowed, thinking his idol star 
 Had waked, and burst impatient through the bar 
 Of midnight, to inflame him to the war ; 
 AVhile he of Moussa's creed saw, in tfiat ray, 
 The glorious Light which, in his freedom's day, 
 Had rested on the Ark,^^® and now again 
 Shone out to bless the breaking of his chain. 
 
 " To victory ! " is at once the cry of all — 
 Nor stands Mokaxxa loitering at that call ; 
 But instant the huge gates are flung aside. 
 And forth, like a diminutive mountain-tide 
 Into the boundless sea, they speed their course 
 Right on into the Moslem's mighty force. 
 The watchmen of the camp, — who, in their rounds, 
 Had paused, and even forgot the punctual sounds 
 Of the small drum with which they count the night,^^'' 
 To gaze upon that supernatural light, — 
 Now sink beneath an unexpected arm, 
 And in a death-groan give their last alarm. 
 " On for the lamps that light yon lofty screen,^^^ 
 " Nor blunt your blades with massacre so mean ;
 
 94 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " TJiere rests the Caliph — speed — one lucky lance 
 " May now achieve mankind's deliverance." 
 Desperate the die — such as they only cast, 
 Who venture for a world, and stake their last. 
 But Fate 's no longer with him — blade for blade 
 Springs up to meet them through the glimmering 
 
 shade, 
 And, as the clash is heard, new legions soon 
 Pour to the spot, like bees of Kauzeroon ^^' 
 To the shrill timbrel's summons, — till, at length, 
 The mighty camp swarms out in all its strength, 
 And back to Neksiieb's gates, covering the plain 
 With random slaughter, drives the adventurous train; 
 Among the last of whom the Silver Veil 
 Is seen glittering at times, like the white sail 
 Of some tossed vessel, on a stormy night. 
 Catching the temj^est's momentary light ! , 
 
 And hath not ilds brought the proud spirit low ? 
 Nor dashed his brow, nor checked his daring ? No. 
 Though half the wretches, whom at night he led 
 To thrones and victory, lie disgraced and dead, 
 Yet morning hears him with unshrinking crest. 
 Still vaunt of thrones, and victory to the rest ; — 
 And they believe him ! — oh, the lover may 
 Distrust that look which steals his soul away ; — 
 The babe may cease to think that it can play 
 With heaven's rainbow ; — alchemists may doubt 
 The shining gold their crucible gives out ; 
 But Faith, fanatic Faith, once wedded fast 
 To some dear falsehood, hugs it to the last.
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 95 
 
 And well th' Impostor kne-.v all lures and arts, 
 That Lucifer e'er taught to tangle hearts ; 
 Nor, 'mid these last bold workings of his plot 
 Against men's souls, is Zelica forgot. 
 Ill-fated Zelica ! had reason been 
 Awake, through half the horrors thou hast seen. 
 Thou never couldst have borne it — Death had come 
 At once, and taken thy wrung spirit home. 
 But 't was not so — a torpor, a suspense 
 Of thought, almost of life, came o'er the intense 
 And passionate struggles of that fearful night, 
 When her last hope of peace and heaven took flight ; 
 And though, at times, a gleam of frenzy broke, — 
 As through some dull volcano's veil of smoke 
 Ominous flashings now and then will start. 
 Which show the fire 's still busy at its heart, — 
 Yet was she mostly wrapped in solenm gloom ; 
 Not such as Azim's, brooding o'er its doom, 
 And calm without, as is the brow of death, 
 Wliile busy worms are gnawing underneath — 
 But in a blank and pulseless torpor, free 
 From thought or pain, a sealed-up apathy, 
 Which left her oft, with scarce one living thrill, 
 The cold, pale victim of her torturer's will. 
 
 Again, as in Mekou, he had her decked 
 Gorgeously out, the Priestess of the sect ; 
 And led her glittering forth before the eyes 
 Of his rude train, as to a sacrifice, — 
 Pallid as she, the young, devoted Bride
 
 96 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Of the fierce Nilk, when, decked in all the pride 
 
 Of nuptial pomp, she sinks into his tide.-^**^ 
 
 And while the wretched maid hung down her head, 
 
 And stood, as one just risen from the dead, 
 
 Amid that gazing crowd, the fiend would tell 
 
 His credulous slaves it was some charm -or spell 
 
 Possessed her now, and from that darkened trance 
 
 Shoidd dawn ere long their Faith's deliverance. 
 
 Or if, at times, goaded by guilty shame. 
 
 Her soul was roused, and words of wildness came, 
 
 Instant the bold blasphemer would translate 
 
 Her ravings into oracles of fate, 
 
 Would hail Heaven's signals in her flashing eyes, 
 
 And call her shrieks the language of the skies ! 
 
 But vain at length his arts — despair is seen 
 Gathering around ; and famine comes to glean 
 All that the sword had left unreaped : — in vain 
 At morn and at eve across the northern plain 
 He looks impatient for the promised spears 
 Of the wild Hordes and Tartar mountaineers ; 
 They come not — while his fierce beleaguerers pour 
 Engines of havoc in, unknown before,^^^ 
 And horrible as new ; ^^'^ • — javelins, that fly 
 Enwreathed with smoky flames through the dark sky, 
 And red-hot globes, that, opening as they mount, 
 Discharge, as from a kindled Naphtha fount,^*^ 
 Showers of consuming fire, o'er all below ; 
 Looking, as through th' illumined night they go. 
 Like those wild birds ^** that by the Magians oft,
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 97 
 
 At festivals of fire, were sent aloft 
 Into the air, with blazing fagots tied 
 To their huge wings, scattering combustion wide. 
 All night the groans of wretches who expire 
 In agony, beneath these darts of fire, 
 Ring through the city — while, descending o'er 
 Its shrines and domes and streets of sycamore, — 
 Its lone bazaars, with their bright cloths of gold, 
 Since the last peaceful pageant left unrolled, — 
 Its beauteous marble baths, whose idle jets 
 Now gush with blood, — and its tall minarets, 
 That late have stood up in the evening glare 
 Of the red sun, unhallowed by a pi'ayer ; — 
 O'er each, in turn, the dreadful flame-bolts fall, 
 And death and conflagration throughout all 
 The desolate city hold high festival ! 
 
 MoKANNA sees the world is his no more ; — 
 One sting at parting, and his grasp is o'er. 
 " What ! drooping now ? " — thus, with imblushing 
 
 cheek. 
 He hails the few, who yet can hear him speak. 
 Of all those famished slaves around him lying, 
 And by the light of blazing temples dying ; — 
 " What ! ■ — droojjing now ? — now, when at length 
 
 we press 
 " Home o'er the very threshold of success ; 
 " When Alla from our ranks hath thinned away 
 " Those grosser branches, that kept out his ray 
 " Of favor from us, and we stand at length 
 7
 
 98 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " Heirs of his light and children of his strength, 
 
 " The chosen few, who shall survive the fall 
 
 " Of Ivings and Thrones, triumphant over all ! 
 
 " Have you then lost, weak murmurers as you are, 
 
 " All faith in him who was your Light, your Star ? 
 
 " Have you forgot the eye of glory, hid 
 
 " Beneath this Veil, the flashing of whose lid 
 
 " Could, like a sunstroke of the desert, wither 
 
 " Millions of such as yonder Chief brings hither ? 
 
 "Long have its lightnings slept — too long — but now 
 
 " All earth shall feel th' unveiling of this brow ! 
 
 " To-night — yes, sainted men ! this very night, 
 
 " I bid you all to a fair festal rite, 
 
 " Where — having deep refx'eshed each weary limb 
 
 " With viands, such as feast heaven's cherubim, 
 
 " And kindled up your souls, now sunk and dim, 
 
 " With that pure wine the Dark-eyed Maids above 
 
 " Keep, sealed with precious musk, for those they 
 
 love,"^ — 
 " I will myself uncurtain in your sight 
 " The wonders of this brow's ineffable light ; 
 " Then lead you forth, and with a wink disperse 
 " Yon myriads, howling through the universe ! " 
 
 Eager they listen — while each accent darts 
 New life into their chilled and hope-sick hearts ; 
 Such treacherous life as the cool draught supplies 
 To him upon the stake, who drinks and dies ! 
 y/ildly they point their lances to the light 
 Of the fast-sinking sun, and shout " To-night ! "^ —
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 99 
 
 " To-night," their Chief reechoes in a voice 
 Of fiend-like mockery that bids hell rejoice. 
 Deluded victims ! — never hath this earth 
 Seen mourning half so mournful as their mirth. 
 Here, to the few, whose iron frames had stood 
 This racking waste of famine and of blood, 
 Faint, dying wretches clung, from whom the shout 
 Of triumph like a maniac's laugh broke out : — 
 There, others, lighted by the smould'ring fire, 
 Danced, like wan ghosts about a funeral -pyre, 
 Among the dead and dying, strewed around ; — 
 While some pale wretch looked on, and from his 
 
 wound 
 Plucking the fiery dart by which he bled. 
 In ghastly transport waved it o'er his head ! 
 
 'T was more than midnight now — a fearful pause 
 Had followed the long shouts, the wild applause, 
 That lately from those Royal Gardens burst, 
 Where the Veiled demon held his feast accurst. 
 When Zelica — alas, poor ruined heart, 
 In eveiy horror doomed to bear its part ! — 
 Was bidden to the banquet by a slave, 
 Who, while his quivering lip the summons gave, 
 Grew black, as though the shadows of the grave 
 Compassed him round, and, ere he could repeat 
 His message through, fell lifeless at her feet ! 
 Shuddering she went — a soul-felt pang of fear, 
 A presage that her own dark doom was near. 
 Roused every feeling, and brought Reason back
 
 100 LALLA KOOKU. 
 
 Once more, to writhe her last upon the rack. 
 
 All round seemed tranquil — even the foe had 
 
 ceased, 
 As if aware of that demoniac feast, 
 His fiery bolts ; and though the heavens looked red, 
 'T was but some distant conflagration's spread. 
 But hark — she stops — she listens — dreadful tone ! 
 'T is her Tormentor's laugh — and now, a groan, 
 A long death-groan comes with it : — can this be 
 The place of mirth, the bower of revelry ? 
 She enters — Holy All a, what a sight 
 Was there before her ! By the glimmering light 
 Of the pale dawn, mixed with the flare of brands 
 That round lay burning, dropped from lifeless hands, 
 She saw the board, in splendid mockery spread, 
 Rich censers breathing — garlands overhead — 
 The urns, the cups, from which they late had quaffed 
 All gold and gems, but — what had been the 
 
 draught ! 
 Oh, who need ask, that saw those livid guests, 
 With their swollen heads sunk blackening on their 
 
 breasts, 
 Or looking pale to heaven witli glassy glare, 
 As if they sought but saw no mercy there ; 
 As if they felt, though poison racked them through, 
 Remoi'se the deadlier torment of the two ! 
 While some, the bravest, hardiest in the train 
 Of their false Chief, who on the battle-plain 
 Would have met death with transport by his side, 
 Here mute and helpless gasped ; — but, as they died,
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 101 
 
 Looked horrible vengeance with their eyes' last 
 
 strain, 
 And clinched the slackening hand at him in vain.* 
 
 Dreadful it was to see the ghastly stare, 
 The stony look of horror and despair. 
 Which some of these expiring victims cast 
 Upon their soids' tormentor to the last ; — 
 Upon that mocking Fiend, whose Veil, now raised, 
 Showed them, as in death's agony they gazed. 
 Not the long-promised light, the brow, whose beam- 
 ing 
 Was to come forth, all conquering, all redeeming, 
 But features horribler than hell e'er traced 
 On its own brood ; — no Demon of the Waste,^**' 
 No church-yard Ghole, caught lingering in the light 
 Of the blest sun, e'er blasted human sight 
 With lineaments so foid, so fierce as those 
 Th' impostor, now in grinning mockery, shows : — 
 " There, ye wise Saints, behold your Light, your 
 
 Star — 
 " Ye would be dupes and victims, and ye are. 
 " Is it enough ? or must I, while a thrill 
 " Lives in your sapient bosoms, cheat you still ? 
 " Swear that the burning death ye feel within 
 " Is but the trance with which heaven's joys begin ; 
 " That this foul visage, foul as e'er disgraced 
 " Even monstrous man, is — after God's own taste ; 
 " And that — but see ! — ere I have half-way said 
 "My greetings through, th' uncourteous souls are 
 fled.
 
 102 LALLA EOOKH. 
 
 '' Farewell, sweet spirits ! not in vain ye die, 
 
 " If Eblis loves you half so well as I. — 
 
 " Ha, my young bride ! — 't is well — take thou thy 
 
 seat ; 
 " Nay, come -^ no shuddering — didst thou never 
 
 meet 
 " The dead before ? — they graced our wedding, 
 
 sweet ; 
 " And these, my guests to-night, have brimmed so 
 
 true 
 " Their parting cups, that thou shalt pledge one too. 
 "• But — how is this ? — all empty ? all drunk up ? 
 " Hot lips have been before thee in the cup, 
 " Young bride — yet stay — one precious drop re- 
 mains, 
 " Enough to warm a gentle Priestess' veins ; — 
 " Here, drink — and should thy lover's conquering 
 
 arms 
 " Speed hither, ere thy lip lose all its charms, 
 " Give him but half this venom in thy kiss, 
 " And I '11 forgive my haughty rival's bliss ! 
 
 " For me — I too must die — but not like these 
 " Vile, rankling things, to fester in the breeze ; 
 " To have this brow in ruffian triumph shown, 
 " With all death's grimness added to its own, 
 " And rot to dust beneath the taunting eyes 
 " Of slaves, exclaiming, ' There his Godship lies ! ' 
 " No — cursed race — since first my soul drew 
 breath.
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 103 
 
 " They 've been my dupes, and shall be even in 
 
 death. . 
 " Thou see'st yon cistern in the shade — 't is filled 
 "With burning drugs, for this last hour dis- 
 tilled : 1*' — 
 " There will I plunge me, in that liquid flame — 
 " Fit bath to lave a dying Prophet's frame ! — 
 " There perish, all — ere pulse of thine shall fail — 
 " Nor leave one limb to tell mankind the tale. 
 " So shall my votaries, wheresoe'er they rave, 
 " Proclaim that Heaven took back the Saint it 
 
 gave; 
 " That I 've but vanished from this earth awhile, 
 " To come again, with bright, unshrouded smile ! 
 " So shall they build me altars in their zeal, 
 '• Where knaves shall minister, and fools shall kneel ; 
 " Where Faith may mutter o'er her mystic spell, 
 " Written in blood — and Bigotry may swell 
 " The sail he spreads for heaven with blasts from 
 
 hell! 
 '' So shall my banner, through long ages, be 
 " The rallying sign of fraud and anarchy ; — 
 " Kings yet unborn shall rue Mokanna's name, 
 " And, though I die, my spirit, still the same, 
 " Shall walk abroad in all the stormy strife, 
 " And guilt, and blood, that were its bliss in life. 
 '' But, hark ! their battering engine shakes the 
 
 wall — 
 " Why, let it shake — thus I can brave them all. 
 " No trace of me shall greet them, when they come,
 
 104 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " And I can trust thy faith, for — thou 'It be dumb. 
 " Now mark how readily a wretch like me, 
 " In one bold plunge, commences Deity ! " 
 
 He sprung and sunk, as the last words were 
 said — 
 Quick closed the burning waters o'er his head, 
 And Zelica was left — within the ring 
 Of those wide walls the only living thing ; 
 The only wretched one, still cursed with breath, 
 In all that frightful wilderness of death ! 
 More like some bloodless ghost — such as, they tell, 
 In the Lone Cities of the Silent ^*^ dwell. 
 And there, unseen of all but Alla, sit 
 Each by its own pale carcass, watching it. 
 
 But morn is up, and a fresh warfare stirs 
 Throughout the camp of the beleaguerers. 
 Their globes of fire (the dread artillery lent « 
 
 By Greece to conquering Mahadi) are spent ; 
 And now the scorpion's shaft, the quarry sent 
 From high balistas, and the shielded throng 
 Of soldiers swinging the huge ram along, 
 All speak th' impatient Islamite's intent 
 To try, at length, if tower and battlement 
 And bastioned wall be not less hard to win. 
 Less tough to break down than the hearts within. 
 First in impatience and in toil is he. 
 The burning Azim — oh ! could he but see 
 Th' Impostor once alive within his grasp,
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAX. 105 
 
 Not the gaunt lion's hug. nor boa's clasp, 
 
 Could match that gripe of vengeance, or keep pace 
 
 With the fell heartiness of Hate's embrace ! 
 
 Loud rings the ponderous ram against the walls ; 
 Now shake the ramparts, now a buttress falls, 
 But still ' no breach — " Once more, one mighty 
 
 swing 
 " Of all your beams, together thundering ! " 
 There — the wall shakes — the shouting troops 
 
 exult, 
 " Quick, quick discharge your weightiest catapult 
 " Right on that spot, and Neksheb is our own ! " 
 'T is done — the battlements come crashing down, 
 And the huge wall, by that stroke riven in two. 
 Yawning, like some old crater, rent anew. 
 Shows the dim, desolate city smoking through. 
 But strange ! no signs of life — naught living seen 
 Above, below — what can this stillness mean ? 
 A minute's pause suspends all hearts and eyes — 
 " In through the breach," impetuous Azim cries ; 
 But the cool Caliph, fearful of some wile 
 In this blank stillness, checks the troops awhile. — 
 Just then, a figure, with slow step, advanced 
 Forth from the ruined walls, and, as there glanced 
 A sunbeam over it, all eyes could see 
 The well-known Silver Veil ! — " 'T is He, 't is He, 
 " MoKANNA, and alone ! " they shout around ; 
 Young AziJi from his steed springs to the ground, — 
 " Mine, Holy Caliph ! mine," he cries, " the task
 
 106 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " To crush yon daring wretch — 't is all I ask." 
 Eager he darts to meet the demon foe, 
 Who still across wide heaps of ruin slow 
 And falteringly comes, till they are near ; , 
 Then, with a bound, rushes on Azm's spear, 
 And, casting off the Veil in falling, shows — 
 Oh ! — 't is his Zelica's life-blood that flows ! 
 
 " I meant not, Azim," soothingly she said, 
 As on his trembling arm she leaned her head, 
 And, looking in his face, saw anguish there 
 Beyond all wounds the quivering flesh can bear, — 
 '' I meant not thou shouldst have the pain of this : — 
 " Though death, with thee thus tasted, is a bliss 
 " Thou wovfldst not rob me of, didst thou but know 
 " How oft I 've prayed to God I might die so ! 
 " But the Fiend's venom was too scant and slow ; — 
 " To linger on were maddening — and I thought 
 " If once that Veil — nay, look not on it — caught 
 " The eyes of your fierce soldiery, I should be 
 " Struck by a thousand death-darts instantly. 
 " But this is sweeter — oh ! believe me, yes — 
 " I would not change this sad, but dear caress, 
 " This death within thy arms I would not give 
 " For the most smiling life the happiest live ! 
 '■ All, that stood dark and drear before the eye 
 " Of my strayed soul, is passing swiftly by ; 
 " A light comes o'er me from those looks of love, 
 " Like the first dawn of mercy from above ; 
 " And if thy lips but tell me I 'm forgiven,
 
 VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN. 107 
 
 " Angels will echo the blest words in heaven ! . 
 
 " But live, my Azim ; — oh ! to call thee mine 
 
 " Thus once again ! my Azim — dream divine ! 
 
 " Live, if thou ever lov'dst me, if to meet 
 
 " Thy Zelica hereafter would be sweet, 
 
 " Oh, live to pray for her — to bend the knee 
 
 " Morning and night before that Deity, 
 
 " To whom pure lips and hearts without a stain, 
 
 " As thine are, Azim, never breathed in vain, — 
 
 " And pray that He may pardon her, — may take 
 
 " Compassion on her soul for thy dear sake, 
 
 " And, naught remembering but her love to thee, 
 
 " Make her all thine, all His, eternally ! 
 
 " Go to those happy fields where first we twined 
 
 " Our youthful hearts together — every wind 
 
 " That meets thee there, fresh from the well-known 
 
 flowers, 
 " Will bring the sweetness of those innocent hours 
 " Back to thy soul, and mayst thou feel again 
 " For thy poor Zelica as thou didst then. 
 " So shall thy orisons, like dew that flies 
 " To heaven upon the morning's sunshine, rise 
 " With all love's earliest ardor to the skies ! 
 " And should they — but, alas, my senses fail — 
 " Oh, for one minute ! — should thy prayers pre- 
 vail — 
 " If pardoned souls may, from that World of Bliss, 
 " Reveal their joy to those they love in this — 
 " I '11 come to thee — in some sweet dream — and 
 tell —
 
 108 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " Oh, Heaven — I die — dear love ! farewell, fare- 
 well." 
 
 Time fleeted — years on years had passed away, 
 And few of those who, on that mournful day, 
 Had stood, with pity in their eyes, to see 
 The maiden's death, and the youth's agony. 
 Were living still — when, by a rustic grave, 
 Beside the swift Amoo's transparent wave. 
 An aged man, who had grown aged there 
 By that lone grave, morning and night in prayer. 
 For the last time knelt down — and, though the 
 
 shade 
 Of death hung darkening over him, there played 
 A gleam of rapture on his eye and cheek, 
 That brightened even Death — like the last streak 
 Of intense glory on the horizon's brim. 
 When night o'er all the rest hangs chill and dim. 
 His soul had seen a Vision, while he slept ; 
 She, for whose spirit he had prayed and wept 
 So many years, had come to him, all drest 
 In angel smiles, and told him she was blest ! 
 For this the old man breathed his thanks, and 
 
 died. — 
 And there, upon the banks of that loved tide, 
 He and his Zelica sleep side by side.
 
 T^^^ 
 
 '♦ i( 
 
 
 The story of the " Veiled Prophet of Kliorassan " 
 being ended, they were now doomed to hear Fau- 
 ladeen's criticisms upon it. A series of disappoint- 
 ments and accidents had occurred to this learned 
 Chamberlain during the journey. In the first place, 
 those couriers stationed, as in the reign of Shah 
 Jehan, between Delhi and the Western coast of In- 
 dia, to secure a constant supply of mangoes for the 
 Ivoyal Table, had, by some cruel irregularity, failed 
 in their duty ; and to eat any mangoes but those of 
 Mazagong was, of course, impossible.^*^ In the next 
 jjlace, the elephant, laden Avith his fine antique 
 porcelain,-'"" had, in an unusual fit of liveliness, shat- 
 tered the whole set to pieces, — an irreparable loss, 
 as many of the vessels were so exquisitely old, as to 
 have been used imder the Emperors Yan and Chun, 
 who reigned many ages before the dynasty of Tang. 
 His Koran, too, supposed to be the identical copy 
 between the leaves of which Mahomet's favorite 
 pigeon used to nestle, had been mislaid by his 
 Koran-bearer three whole days ; not without much 
 spiritual alarm to Fadladeen, who, though jDrofess- 
 ing to hold with other loyal and orthodox Mussul- 
 mans, that salvation could only be found in the
 
 110 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Koran, was strongly suspected of believing in his 
 heart that it could only be found in his own par- 
 ticular copy of it. When to all these grievances is 
 added the obstinacy of the cooks, in putting the pep- 
 per of Canara into his dishes instead of the cinna- 
 mon of Serendib, we may easily suppose that he 
 came to the task of criticism with, at least, a suffi- 
 cient degree of irritability for the purpose. 
 
 " In order," said he, importantly swinging about 
 his chaplet of pearls, " to convey with clearness my 
 opinion of the story this young man has related, it is 
 necessary to take a review of all the stories that 
 have ever " " My good Fadladeen ! " ex- 
 claimed the Princess, interrupting him, " we really 
 do not deserve that you should give yourself so 
 much trouble. Your opinion of the poem we have 
 just heard will, I have no doubt, be abundantly edi- 
 fying, without any further waste of your valuable 
 erudition." — "If that be all," replied the critic, — 
 evidently mortified at not being allowed to show how 
 much he knew about everything but the subject im- 
 mediately before him, — "if that be all that is required, 
 the matter is easily dispatched." He then proceeded 
 to analyze the poem, in that strain (so well known 
 to the unfortunate bards of Delhi), whose censures 
 were an infliction from which few recovered, and 
 whose very praises were like the honey extracted 
 from the bitter flowers of the aloe. The chief per- 
 sonages of the story were, if he rightly imderstood
 
 LALLA ROOKII. Ill 
 
 them, an ill-favored gentleman, with a veil over his 
 face ; — a young lady, whose reason went and came, 
 according as it suited the poet's convenience to be 
 sensible or otherwise ; — and a youth in one of those 
 hideous Bucharian bonnets, who took the aforesaid 
 gentleman in a veil for a Divinity. " From such ma- 
 terials," said he, " what can be expected ? — after ri- 
 valling each other in long speeches and absurdities 
 through some thousands of lines as indigestible as 
 the filberts of Berdaa, our friend in the veil jumps 
 into a tub of aquafortis ; the young lady dies in a 
 set speech, whose only recommendation is that it is 
 her last ; and the lover lives on to a good old age, 
 for the laudable purpose of seeing her ghost, which 
 he at last happily accomplishes, and expires. This, 
 you will allow, is a fair summary of the story ; and 
 if Nasser, the Arabian merchant, told no better, our 
 Holy Prophet (to whom be all honor and glory ! ) 
 had no need to be jealous of his abilities for story- 
 telling." 151 
 
 With respect to the style, it was worthy of the 
 matter; — it had not even those politic contrivances 
 of structure, which make up for the commonness of 
 the thoughts by the peculiarity of the manner, nor 
 that stately poetical phraseology by which sentiments 
 mean in themselves, like the blacksmith's i^" apron 
 converted into a banner, are so easily gilt and em- 
 broidered into consequence. Then, as to the versi- 
 fication, it was, to say no worse of it, execrable : it
 
 112 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 had neither the copious flow of Ferdosi, the sweet- 
 ness of Hafez, nor the sententious march of Sadi ; 
 but appeared to hini, in the inieasy heaviness of its 
 movements, to have been modelled upon the gait of 
 a very tired dromedary. The licenses, too, in which 
 it indulged, were unpardonable ; — for instance this 
 line, and the poem abounded with such : — 
 
 Like the faint, exquisite music of a dream. 
 
 " What critic that can count," said Fadladeen, 
 " and has his full complement of fingers to count 
 withal, would tolerate for an instant such syllabic 
 superfluities ? " — He here looked round, and dis- 
 covered that most of his audience were asleep ; while 
 the glimmering lamps seemed inclined to follow their 
 example. It became necessary, therefore, however 
 painful to himself, to put an end to his valuable ani- 
 madversions for the present, and he accordingly con- 
 cluded, with an air of dignified candor, thus : — 
 " Notwithstanding the observations which I have 
 thought it my duty to make, it is by no means my 
 ^vish to discourage the young man : — so far from it, 
 indeed, that if he will but totally alter his style of 
 writing and thinking, I have very little doubt that I 
 shall be vastly pleased with him." 
 
 Some days elapsed, after this harangue of the 
 Great Chamberlain, before Lalla Rookh could 
 venture to ask for another story. The youth was 
 still a welcome guest in the pavilion — to one heart,
 
 LALLA ROOKH. 113 
 
 perhaps, too dangerously welcome; — but all mention 
 of poetry was, as if by common consent, avoided. 
 Though none of the party had much respect for 
 Fadladeen, yet his censures, thus magisterially de- 
 livered, evidently made an impression on them all. 
 The Poet himself, to whom criticism was quite a new 
 operation, (being wholly unknown in that Paradise 
 of the Indies, Cashmere,) felt the shock as it is gen- 
 erally felt at first, till use has made it more tolerable 
 to the patient ; — the Ladies began to suspect that 
 they ought not to be pleased, and seemed to conclude 
 that there must have been much good sense in what 
 Fadladeen said, from its having set them all so 
 soundly to sleep ; — while the self-complacent Cham- 
 berlain was left to triumph in the idea of having, for 
 the hundred and fiftieth time in his life, extinguished 
 a Poet. Lalla Rookh alone — and Love knew 
 why — persisted in being delighted with all she had 
 heard, and in resolving to hear more as speedily as 
 possible. Her manner, however, of first returning 
 to the subject was unlucky. It was while they rested 
 during the heat of noon near a fountain, on which 
 some hand had rudely traced those well-known 
 words from the Garden of Sadi, — " Many, like me, 
 have viewed this fountain, but they are gone, and 
 their eyes are closed forever!" — that she took occa- 
 sion, from the melancholy beauty of this passage, to 
 dwell upon the charms of poetry in general. " It is 
 true," she said, " few poets can imitate that sublime 
 bird, which flies always in the air, and never touches
 
 114 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 the earth i^''* — it is only once in many ages a Genius 
 appears, whose words, like those on the Written 
 Mountain, last forever : ^^* — but still there are some, 
 as delightful, perhaps, though not so wonderful, who, 
 if not stars over our head, are at least flowers along 
 our path, and whose sweetness of the moment we 
 ought gratefully to inhale, without calling upon them 
 for a brightness and a durability beyond their nature. 
 In short," continued she, blushing, as if conscious of 
 being caught in an oration, " it is quite cruel that a 
 poet cannot wander through his regions of enchant- 
 ment, Avithout having a critic forever, like the Old 
 Man of the Sea, upon his back ! " ^^^ — Fadladeen, 
 it was plain, took this last luckless allu.sion to him- 
 self, and would treasure it up in his mind as a whet- 
 stone for his next criticism. A sudden silence 
 ensued ; and the Princess, glancing a look at Fera- 
 MORz, saw plainly she must wait for a more coura- 
 geous moment. 
 
 But the glories of Nature, and her wild, fragrant 
 airs, playing freshly over the current of youthful 
 spirits, will soon heal even deeper wounds than the 
 dull Fadladeens of this world can inflict. In an 
 evening or two after, they came to the small Valley 
 of Gardens, which had been planted by order of the 
 Emperor, for his favorite sister Kochinara, during 
 their progress to Cashmere, some years before ; and 
 never was there a more sparkling assemblage of 
 sweets, since the Gulzar-e-Irem, or Rose-bower of
 
 LALLA ROOKH. 115 
 
 Irem. Every precious flower was there to be found 
 that poetry, or love, or religion, has ever conse- 
 crated ; from the dark hyacinth, to which Hafez 
 compares his mistress's hair,^^® to the Gamalata, by 
 whose rosy blossoms the heaven of Indra is scented.-'^'' 
 As they sat in the cool fragrance of this delicious 
 spot, and Lalla Rookh remarked that she could 
 fancy it the abode of that Flower-loving Nymph 
 whom they worship in the temples of Kathay,^^^ or 
 of one of those Peris, those beautiful creatures of 
 the air, who live upon perfumes, and to whom a 
 place like this might make some amends for the 
 Paradise they have lost, — the young Poet, in whose 
 eyes she appeared, while she spoke, to be one of the 
 bright spiritual creatures she was describing, said 
 hesitatingly that he remembei'ed a Story of a Peri, 
 which, if the Princess had no objection, he would 
 venture to relate. " It is," said he, with an appeal- 
 ing look to Fadladeen, " in a lighter and humbler 
 strain than the other ; " then, striking a few careless 
 but melancholy chords on his kitar, he thus be- 
 gan:—
 
 PARADISE AND THE PERI. 
 
 One morn a Peri at the gate 
 Of Eden stood, disconsolate ; 
 And as she Hstened to the Springs 
 
 Of Life within, like mnsic flowing, 
 And caught the light upon her wings 
 
 Through the half-open portal glowing, 
 She wejDt to think her recreant race 
 Should e'er have lost that glorious place ! 
 
 " How happy," exclaimed this child of air, 
 " Are the holy Spirits who wander there, 
 
 " Mid flowers that never shall fade or fall ; 
 " Though mine are the gardens of earth and sea, 
 " And the stars themselves have flowers for me, 
 
 " One blossom of heaven out-blooms them all ! 
 
 " Though sunny the Lake of cool Cashmere, 
 " With its plane-tree Isle reflected clear,^^'' 
 
 " And sweetly the founts of that Valley fall ; 
 " Though bright are the waters of Sing-su-hay,
 
 PARADISE AND THE PERI. 117 
 
 " And the golden floods that thitherward stray,^*^** 
 " Yet — oh, 't is only the Blest can say 
 
 " How the waters of heaven outshine them all ! 
 
 • " Go, wing thy flight from star to star, 
 " From world to luminous world, as far 
 
 " As the universe spreads its flaming wall : 
 " Take all the pleasures of all the spheres, 
 '? And multiijly each through endless years, 
 
 " One minute of heaven is worth them all ! " 
 
 The glorious Angel, who was keeping 
 The gates of Light, beheld her weeping; 
 And, as he nearer drew and listened 
 To her sad song, a tear-drop glistened 
 Within his eyelids, like the spray 
 
 From Eden's fountain, when it lies 
 On the blue floAver, which — Bramins say — 
 
 Blooms nowhere but in Paradise.-^®^ 
 
 " Nymph of a fair but erring line ! " 
 Gently he said — " One hope is thine. 
 " T is written in the Book of Fate, 
 
 " TTie Peri yet may he forgiven 
 " Who brings to this Eternal gate 
 
 " The Gift that is most dear to Heaven ! 
 '• Go seek it, and redeem thy sin — 
 " T is sweet to let the Pardoned in." 
 
 Rapidly as comets run 
 
 To th' embraces of the Sun ; —
 
 118 LALLA KOOKH. 
 
 Fleeter than the starry brands 
 Flung at night from angel hands ^^^ 
 At those dark and daring sprites 
 Who would climb th' empyreal heights, 
 Down the blue vault the Peri flies, 
 
 And, lighted earthward by a glance 
 That just then broke from morning's eyes, 
 
 Hung hovering o'er our world's expanse. 
 
 But whither shall the Spirit go 
 
 To find this gift for Heaven ? — "I know 
 
 " The wealth," she cries, " of every urn, 
 
 " In which unnumbered rubies burn, 
 
 " Beneath the pillars of Ciiiljiinak ; ^"^^ 
 
 " I know where the Isles of Perfume are 
 
 " Many a fathom down in the sea, 
 
 " To the south of sun-bright Araby ; ^'^* 
 
 " I know, too, where the Genii hid 
 
 " The jewelled cup of their King Jamshid, '^'^^ 
 
 " With Life's elixir sparkling high — 
 
 " But gifts like these are not for the sky. 
 
 " "Wliere was there ever a gem that shone 
 
 " Like the steps of Alla's wonderful Throne ? 
 
 " And the Drops of Life — oh ! what would they be 
 
 " In the boundless Deep of Eternity ? " 
 
 "\^niile thus she mused, her pinions fanned 
 The air of that sweet Indian land. 
 Whose air is balm ; whose ocean spreads 
 O'er coral rocks, and amber beds : ^"^^
 
 PARADISE AND THE PERI. 119 
 
 Wliose mountains, pregnant by the bean) 
 Of the wann sun, with diamonds teem ; 
 Whose rivulets are Hke rich brides, 
 Lovely, with gold beneath their tides ; 
 Whose sandal groves and bowers of spice 
 Might be a Peri's Paradise ! 
 But crimson now her rivers ran 
 
 With human blood — the smell of death 
 Came reeking from those spicy bowers, 
 And man, the sacrifice of man, 
 
 Mingled his taint with every breath 
 Upwafted from the innocent flowers. 
 Land of the Sun ! what foot invades 
 Thy Pagods and thy pillared shades — ^''''' 
 Thy cavern shrines, and Idol stones, 
 Thy Monarchs and their thousands Thrones ? ^"^ 
 'T is He of Gazna ^^^ — fierce in wrath 
 
 He comes, and India's diadems 
 Lie scattered in his ruinous path. — 
 
 His bloodhounds he adorns with gems, 
 Torn from the violated necks 
 
 Of many a young and loved Sultana ; ^''^ 
 
 Maidens within their pure Zenana, 
 
 Priests in the very fane he slaughters, 
 And chokes up with the glittering wrecks 
 
 Of golden shrines the sacred waters ! 
 Downward the Peri turns her gaze, 
 And, through the war-field's bloody haze 
 Beholds a youthful warrior stand, 
 
 Alone beside his native river, —
 
 120 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 The red blade broken in his hand, 
 And the last arrow in his quiver. 
 " Live," said the Conqueror, " live to share 
 " The trophies and the crowns I bear ! " 
 Silent that youthful warrior stood — 
 Silent he pointed to the flood 
 All crimson with his country's blood, 
 Then sent his last remaining dart, 
 For answer, to th' Invader's heart. 
 
 False flew the shaft, though pointed well ; 
 The Tyrant lived, the Hero fell ! — 
 Yet marked the Peri where he lay. 
 
 And, when the rush of war was past, 
 Swiftly descending on a ray 
 
 Of morning light, she caught the last — 
 Last glorious drop his heart had shed. 
 Before its freeborn spirit fled ! 
 
 " Be this," she cried, as she winged her flight, 
 " My welcome gift at the Gates of Light. 
 " Though foul are the drops that oft distil 
 
 " On the field of warfare, blood like this, 
 
 " For Liberty shed, so holy is, ^''^ 
 " It would not stain the purest rill, 
 
 " That sparkles among the Bowers of Bliss ! 
 " Oh, if there be, on this earthly sphere, 
 " A boon, an offering Heaven holds dear, 
 " 'T is the last libation Liberty draws 
 " From the heart that bleeds and breaks in her 
 cause ! "
 
 PAHADISE AND THE PERI. 121 
 
 " Sweet," said the Angel, as she gave 
 
 The gift into his radiant hand, — 
 " Sweet is our welcome of the Brave 
 
 " Who die thus for their native Land. — 
 " But see — alas ! — the crystal bar 
 " Of Eden moves not — holier for 
 " Than even this drop the boon must be, 
 " That opes the Gates of Heaven for thee ! " 
 
 Her first fond hope of Eden blighted, 
 
 Now jvmong Afric's lunar Mountains,-^''^ 
 Far to the South, the Peri lighted ; 
 
 And sleeked her plumage at the fountains 
 Of that Egyptian tide — whose birth 
 Is hidden from the sons of earth 
 Deep in those solitary woods, 
 Wliere oft the Genii of the Floods 
 Dance round the cradle of their Nile, 
 And hail the new-born Giant's smile.^'''^ 
 Thence over Egypt's palmy groves, 
 
 Her grots, and sepulchres of Kings,^^* 
 The exiled Spirit sighing roves ; 
 And now hangs listening to the doves 
 In warm Rosetta's vale ^" — now loves 
 
 To watch the moonlight on the wings 
 Of the white pelicans that break 
 The azure calm of Mceris' Lake.-^^*^ 
 'T was a fair scene — a Land more bright 
 
 Never did mortal eye behold ! 
 Wlio could have thought, that saw this night
 
 122 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Those valleys and their fruits of gold 
 Basking in heaven's serenest light ; — 
 Those groups of lovely date-trees bending 
 
 Languidly their leaf-crowned heads, 
 Like youthful maids, when sleep descending 
 
 Warns them to their silken beds ; — ^" 
 Those virgin lilies, all the night 
 
 Bathing their beauties in the lake. 
 That they may rise more fresh and bright, 
 
 When their beloved Sun 's awake ; — 
 Those ruined shrines and towers that seem 
 The relics of a splendid dream ; 
 
 Amid whose fairy loneliness 
 Naught but the lapwing s cry is heard, 
 
 Naught seen but (when the shadows, flitting 
 Fast from the moon, unsheathe its gleam) 
 
 Some purple-winged Sultana ^'^^ sitting 
 
 Upon a column, motionless 
 And jrlitterino- like an Idol bird I — 
 Who could have thought, that there, even there, 
 Amid those scenes so still and fair, 
 The Demon of the Plague hath cast 
 From his hot wing a deadlier blast. 
 More mortal far than ever came 
 From the red Desert's sands of flame ! 
 So quick, that every living thing 
 Of human shape, touched by his wing. 
 Like plants, where the Simoom hath past. 
 At once falls black and withering ! 
 The sun went down on many a brow,
 
 PARADISE AND THE PERI. 123 
 
 Which, full of bloom and freshness then, 
 Is rankling in the pest-house now, 
 
 And ne'er will feel that sun again. 
 And, oh ! to see th' unburied heaps 
 On which the lonely moonlight sleeps — 
 The very vultures turn away. 
 And sicken at so foul a prey ! 
 Only the fierce hyena stalks ^"^ 
 Throughout the city's desolate walks ^^'' 
 At midnight, and his carnage plies : — 
 
 Woe to the half-dead wretch, who meets 
 The glaring of those large blue eyes ^^^ 
 
 Amid the darkness of the streets ! 
 
 " Poor race of men ! " said the pitying Spirit, 
 
 " Dearly ye pay for your primal Fall — 
 " Some flow'rets of Eden ye still inherit, 
 
 " But the trail of the Serpent is over them all !" 
 She wept — the air grew pure and clear 
 
 Around her, as the bright drops ran ; 
 For there 's a magic in each tear, 
 
 Such kindly Spirits Aveep for man ! 
 Just then beneath some orange-trees. 
 Whose fruit and blossoms in the breeze 
 Were wantoning together, free, 
 Like age at play with infancy — 
 Beneath that fresh and springing bower, 
 
 Close by the Lake, she heard the moan 
 Of one who, at this silent hour, 
 
 Had thither stolen to die alone.
 
 124 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 One who in life where'er he moved, 
 
 Drew after him the hearts of many ; 
 Yet now, as though he ne'er were loved, 
 
 Dies here unseen, unwept by any ! 
 None to watch near him — none to slake 
 
 The fire that in his bosom lies, 
 "With even a sprinkle from that lake, 
 
 Which shines so cool before his eyes. 
 No voice, well known through many a day, 
 
 To speak the last, the parting word, 
 Which, when all other sounds decay. 
 
 Is still like distant music heard ; — 
 That tender farewell on the shore 
 Of this rude world, when all is o'er. 
 Which cheers the spirit, ere its bark 
 Puts off into the unknown Dark. 
 
 Deserted youth ! one thought alone 
 
 Shed joy around his soid in death — 
 That she, whom he for years had known, 
 And loved, and might have called his own 
 
 Was safe from this foul midnight's breath. 
 Safe in her father's princely halls, 
 Wliere the cool airs from fountain fall^, 
 Freshly perfumed by many a brand 
 Of the sweet wood from India's land. 
 Were pure as she whose brow they fanned. 
 
 But see — who yonder comes by stealth,*^^ 
 This melancholy bower to seek.
 
 PARADISE AND THE PEIJI. 125 
 
 Like a young envoy, sent by Health, 
 
 With rosy gifts upon her cheek ? 
 'T is she — far off, through moonlight dim 
 
 He knew his own betrothed bride. 
 She, who would rather die with him, 
 
 Than live to gain the world beside ! — 
 Her ai'ms are round her lover now, 
 
 His livid cheek to hers she presses, 
 And dips, to bind his burning brow, 
 
 In the cool lake her loosened tresses. 
 Ah ! once, how little did he think 
 An hour would come, when he should shrink 
 With horror from that dear embrace, 
 
 Those gentle arms, that were to him 
 Holy as is the cradling place 
 
 Of Eden's infant cherubim ! 
 And now he yields — now turns away, 
 Shuddering as if the venom lay 
 All in those proffered lijis alone — 
 Those lips that, then so fearless grown. 
 Never until that instant came 
 Near his unasked or Avithout shame. 
 " Oh ! let me only breathe the air, 
 
 " The blessed air, that 's breathed by thee, 
 " And, Avhether on its wings it bear 
 
 " Healing or death, 't is sweet to me ! 
 " There — drink my tears, while yet they fall — 
 
 " Would that my bosom's blood were balm, 
 " And, well thou know'st, I 'd shed it all, 
 
 " To give thy brow one minute's calm.
 
 126 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " Nay, turn not from me 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 ? 
 " Think'st thou that she, whose only light, 
 
 " In this dim world, from thee hath shone, 
 '' Could bear the long, the cheerless night, 
 
 " That must be hers when thou art gone ? 
 " That I can live, and let thee go, 
 " Who art my life itself? — No, no — 
 " When the stem dies, the leaf that grew 
 " Out of its heart must perish too ! 
 " Then turn to me, my own love, turn, 
 " Before, like thee, I fade and burn ; 
 " Cling to these yet cool lips, and share 
 " The last pure life that lingers there ! " 
 She fails — she sinks — as dies the lamp 
 In charnel airs, or cavern-damp. 
 So quickly do his baleful sighs 
 Quench all the sweet light of her eyes. 
 One struggle — and his pain is past — 
 
 Her lover is no longer living ! 
 One kiss the maiden gives, one last. 
 
 Long kiss, which she expires in giving ! 
 
 " Sleep," said the Peri, as softly she stole 
 The farewell sigh of that vanishing soul. 
 As true as e'er warmed a woman's breast, — 
 " Sleep on, in visions of odor rest, 
 " In balmier airs than ever yet stirred
 
 PARADISE AND THE PERI. 127 
 
 " Th' enchanted pile of that h^nely bird, 
 " Who sings at the last his own death-lay/*' 
 " And in music and perfume dies away ! " 
 
 Thus saying, from her lips she spread 
 
 Unearthly breathings through the place, 
 And shook her sparkling wreath, and shed 
 
 Such lustre o'er each paly face, 
 That like two lovely saints they seemed, 
 
 Upon the eve of doomsday taken 
 From their dim graves, in odor sleeping ; 
 
 While that benevolent Peri beamed 
 Like their good angel, calmly keeping 
 
 Watch o'er them till their souls would waken. 
 
 But morn is blushing in the sky ; 
 
 Again the Peri soars above, 
 Bearing to Heaven that precious sigh 
 
 Of pure, self-sacrificing love. 
 High throbbed her heart, with hope elate, 
 
 The Elysian palm she soon shall win, 
 For the bright Spirit at the gate 
 
 Smiled as she gave that offering in ; 
 And she already hears the trees 
 
 Of Eden, with their crystal bells 
 Ringing in that ambrosial breeze 
 
 That from the throne of Alla swells ; 
 And she can see the starry bowls 
 
 That lie around that lucid lake,
 
 128 LALLA KOOKH. 
 
 Upon whose banks admitted Souls 
 
 Their first sweet draught of glory take ! ^^'^ 
 
 But, ah ! even Peris' hopes are vain — 
 
 Again the Fates forbade, again 
 Th' immortal barrier closed : " Not yet," 
 
 The Angel said as, Avith regret. 
 He shut from her that glimpse of glory ; 
 " True was the maiden, and her story, 
 " Written in light o'er Alla's head, 
 " By seraph eyes shall long be read. 
 " But, Peri, see — the crystal bar 
 " Of Eden moves not — holier far 
 " Than even this sigh the boon must be 
 " That opes the Gates of Heaven for thee.'' 
 
 Now, upon Syria's land of roses ^^^ 
 Softly the light of Eve reposes. 
 And, like a glory, the broad sun 
 Hangs over sainted Lebanon ; 
 Whose head in wintry grandeur towers, 
 
 And whitens Avith eternal sleet. 
 While summer, in a vale of flowers, 
 
 Is sleeping rosy at his feet. 
 
 To one, who looked from upper air 
 O'er all th' enchanted regions there. 
 How beauteous must have been the glow, 
 The life, the sparkling from below I
 
 PARADISE AND THE PEi;i. 129 
 
 Fair gardens, shining streams, with ranks 
 Of golden melons on their banks. 
 More golden where the sunlight falls ; — 
 Gay lizards, glittering on the walls ^^^ 
 Of ruined shrines, busy and bright 
 As they were all alive with light ; 
 And, yet more splendid, numerous flocks 
 Of pigeons, settling on the rocks, 
 With their rich restless wings that gleam 
 Variously in the crimson beam 
 Of the warm West, — as if inlaid 
 With brilliants from the mine, or made 
 Of tearless rainbows, such as span 
 Th' unclouded skies of Peristan. 
 And then the mingling sounds that come, 
 Of shepherd's ancient reed,^" with hum 
 Of the wild bees of Palestine,^^^ 
 
 Banqueting through the flowery vales ; 
 And, Jordan, those sweet banks of thine, 
 
 And woods, so full of nightingales.-^^*' 
 
 But naught can charm the luckless Peri ; 
 Her soul is sad — her wings are weary — 
 Joyless she sees the sun look down 
 On that great Temple, once his own,^'" 
 Whose lonely columns stand sublime, 
 
 Flinging their shadows from on high, 
 Like dials, which the wizaid, Time, 
 
 Had raised to count his ages by ! 
 9
 
 130 LALLA EOOKH. 
 
 Yet haply there may lie concealed 
 
 Beneath those Chambers of the Sun, 
 Some amulet of gems, annealed 
 In upper fires, some tablet sealed 
 With the great name of Solomon, 
 Which, spelled by illumined eyes, 
 May teach her where, beneath the moon, 
 In earth or ocean, lies the boon, 
 The charm, that can restore so soon 
 An erring Spirit to the skies. 
 
 Cheered by this hope slie bends her thither ; 
 
 Still laughs the radiant eye of Heaven, 
 
 Nor have the golden bowers of Even 
 In the rich West begun to wither ; — 
 When, o'er the vale of Balbec winging 
 
 Slowly, she sees a child at play, 
 Among the rosy wild flowers singing. 
 
 As rosy and as wild as they ; 
 Chasing, with eager hands and eyes. 
 The beautiful blue damsel-flies,^^^ 
 That fluttered round the jasmine stems, 
 Like Avinged flowers or flying gems : — 
 And, near the boy, who tired with play 
 Now nestling 'mid the roses lay. 
 She saw a wearied man dismount 
 
 From his hot steed, and on the brink 
 Of a small imaret's rustic fount ^^'^ 
 
 Impatient fling him down to drink. 
 Then swift his haggard brow he turned
 
 PARADISE AND THE PERI. 131 
 
 To the fair child, who fearless sat, 
 Though never yet hath day-beam burned 
 
 Upon a brow more fierce than that, — 
 Sullenly fierce, — a mixture dire, 
 Like thunder-clouds, of gloom and fire ; 
 In which the Peri's eye could read 
 Dark tales of many a ruthless deed ; 
 The ruined maid — the shrine i^rofaned — 
 Oaths broken — and the threshold stained 
 With blood of guests ! — there written, all, 
 Black as the damning drops that fall 
 From the denouncing Angel's pen, 
 Ere Mercy weeps them out again. 
 
 Yet tranquil now that man of crime 
 (As if the balmy evening time 
 Softened his spirit) looked and lay, 
 Watcliing the rosy infant's play : — 
 Though still, whene'er his eye by chance 
 Fell on the boy's, its lurid glance 
 
 Met that unclouded, joyous gaze, 
 As torches, that have burnt all night 
 Through some impure and godless rite, 
 
 Encounter morning's glorious rays. 
 
 But hark ! the vesper call to prayer, 
 
 As slow the orb of daylight sets, 
 Is rising sweetly on the air, 
 
 From Syria's thousand minarets ! 
 The boy has started from the bed
 
 132 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Of flowers, where he had laid his head, 
 And down upon the fragrant sod 
 
 Kneels,-^®^ with his forehead to the south. 
 Lisping th' eternal name of God 
 
 From Purity's own cherub mouth, 
 And looking, while his hands and eyes 
 Are lifted to the glowing skies. 
 Like a stray babe of Paradise, 
 Just lighted on that flowery plain. 
 And seeking for its home again. 
 Oh ! 't was a sight — that heaven — that child - 
 A scene, which might have well beguiled 
 Even haughty Eblis of a sigh 
 For glories lost and peace gone by ! 
 
 And how felt hc^ the wretched Man 
 
 Reclining there — while memory ran 
 
 O'er many a year of guilt and strife, 
 
 Flew o'er the dark flood of his life. 
 
 Nor found one sunny resting-place. 
 
 Nor brought him back one branch of grace. 
 
 " Thei'e ukis a time," he said, in mild, 
 
 Heart-humbled tones — " thou blessed child ! 
 
 " When, young and haply jDure as thou, 
 
 " I looked and prayed like thee — but now '' — 
 
 He hung his head — each nobler aim. 
 
 And hope, and feeling, which had slept 
 From boyhood's hour, that instant came 
 
 Fresh o'er him, and he wept — he wept !
 
 PARADISE AND THE PERI. 133 
 
 Blest tears of soul-felt penitence ! 
 
 In whose benign, redeeming flow 
 Is felt the first, the only sense 
 
 Of guiltless joy that guilt can know. 
 
 " There 's a drop," said the Peri, "• that down from 
 
 the moon 
 " Falls through the withering airs of June 
 " Upon Egypt's land,^^* of so healing a power, 
 " So balmy a virtue, that e'en in the hour 
 " That drop descends, contagion dies, 
 " And health reanimates earth and skies ! — 
 " Oh, is it not thus, thou man of sin, 
 
 " The precious tears of repentance fall ? 
 " Though foul thy fiery plagues within, 
 
 " One heavenly drop hath dispelled them all ! " 
 
 And now — behold him kneeling there 
 By the child's side, in humble prayer. 
 While the same sunbeam shines upon 
 The guilty and the guiltless one, 
 And hymns of joy proclaim through heaven 
 The triumph of a Soul Forgiven ! 
 'T was when the golden orb had set, 
 Wliile on their knees they lingered yet, 
 There fell a light more lovely far 
 Than ever came from sun or star, 
 Upon the tear that, warm and meek. 
 Dewed that repentant sinner's cheek. 
 To mortal eye this light might seem
 
 1C4 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 A northern flash or meteor beam — 
 But well th' enraptured Peri knew 
 'T was a bright smile the Angel threw 
 From heaven's gate, to hail that tear 
 Her harbinger of glory near ! 
 
 " Joy, joy forever ! my task is done — 
 
 " The Gates are passed, and heaven is won ! 
 
 " Oh ! am I not happy ? I am, I am — 
 
 '' To thee, sweet Eden ! how dark and sad 
 " Are the diamond turrets of Shadukiam,^^^ 
 
 " And the fragrant bowers of Amberabad ! 
 " Farewell, ye odors of earth, that die 
 " Passing away like a lover's sigh ; — 
 " My feast is now of the Tooba Tree,^^« 
 " Whose scent is the breath of Eternity ! 
 '' Farewell, ye vanishing flowers, that shone 
 
 " In my fairy wreath, so bright and brief; — 
 " Oh ! what are the brightest that e'er have blown 
 " To the lote-tree, springing by Alla's throne,^''^ 
 
 " Whose flowers have a soul in every leaf? 
 '* Joy, joy forever ! my task is done — 
 " The Gates are passed, and heaven is won ! "
 
 " And this," said the Great Chamberlain, " is po- 
 etry ! this flimsy manufacture of the brain, which, in 
 comparison with the lofty and durable moniunents of 
 genius, is as the gold filigree-work of Zamara beside 
 the eternal architecture of Egypt ! " After this gor- 
 geous sentence, which, with a few more of the same 
 kind, Fadladeen kept by him for rare and impor- 
 tant occasions, he proceeded to the anatomy of the 
 short poem just recited. The lax and easy kind of 
 metre in which it was written ought to be denounced, 
 he said, as one of the leading causes of the alarming 
 growth of poetry in our times. If some check were 
 not given to this lawless facility, we should soon be 
 overrun by a race of bards as numerous and as 
 shallow as the hundred and twenty thousand Streams 
 of Basra.^®^ They who succeeded in this style de- 
 served chastisement for their very success ; — as 
 warriors have been punished, even after gaining a 
 victory, because they had taken the liberty of gain- 
 ing it in an irregular or unestablished manner. 
 What, then, was to be said to those who failed ? to 
 those who presumed, as in the present lamentable 
 instance, to imitate the license and ease of the bolder 
 sons of song, without any of that grace or vigor
 
 136 LALLA KOOKH. 
 
 which gave a dignity even to negligence ; — who, 
 like them, flung the jei-eed ^^^ carelessly, but not, like 
 them, to the mark ; — " and who," said he, raising 
 his voice to excite a proper degree of wakefulness 
 in his hearers, " contrive to appear heavy and con- 
 strained in the midst of all the latitude they allow 
 themselves, like one of those young pagans that 
 dance before the Princess, who is ingenious enough 
 to move as if her limbs were fettered, in a jjair of 
 the lightest and loosest drawers of Masulipatam ! " 
 
 It was but little suitable, he continued, to the 
 grave march of criticism to follow this fantastical 
 Peri, of whom they had just heard, through all her 
 flights and adventures between earth and heaven ; 
 but he could not help adverting to the puerile con- 
 ceitedness of the Three Gifts which she is supposed 
 to carry to the skies, — a droj) of blood, forsooth, a 
 sigh, and a tear ! How the first of these articles 
 was delivered into the Angel's " radiant hand " he 
 professed himself at a loss to discover ; and as to 
 the safe carriage of the sigh and the tear, such Peris 
 and such poets were beings by far too incompre- 
 hensible for him even to guess how they managed 
 such matters. " But, in short," said he, " it is a 
 waste of time and patience to dwell longer upon a 
 thing so incurably frivolous, — puny even among its 
 own puny race, and such as only the Banyan Hos- 
 pital ^° for Sick Insects should undertake."
 
 LALLA POOKH. 137 
 
 In vain did Lalla Rookh try to soften tliis 
 inexorable critic ; in vain did she resort to her most 
 eloquent commonplaces, — reminding him that poets 
 were a timid and sensitive race, whose sweetness 
 was not to be drawn forth, like that of the fragrant 
 grass near the Ganges, by crushing and trampling 
 upon them ; — -°^ that severity often extinguished 
 every chance of the perfection which it demanded ; 
 and that, after all, perfection was like the Mountain 
 of the Talisman, — no one had ever yet reached its 
 summit.^"- Neither these gentle axioms, nor the 
 still gentler looks with which they w.ere inculcated, 
 could lower for one instant the elevation of Fadla- 
 deen's eyebrows, or charm him into anything like 
 encoiu'agement, or even toleration, of her poet. 
 Toleration, indeed, was not among the weaknesses 
 of Fadladeen : — he carried the same spirit into 
 matters of poetry and of religion, and, though little 
 versed in the beauties or sublimities of either, was a 
 perfect master of the art of persecution in both. 
 His zeal was the same, too, in either pursuit; 
 whether the game before him was pagans or poet- 
 asters, — worshippers of cows, or writers of epics. 
 
 They had now arrived at the splendid city of La- 
 hore, whose mausoleums and shrines, magnificent 
 and numberless, where Death appeared to share 
 equal honors with Heaven, would have powerfully 
 affected the heart and imagination of Lalla Rookh, 
 if feelings more of this earth had not taken entire
 
 138 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 possession of her already. She was here met by 
 messengers, dispatched from Cashmere, who in- 
 formed her that the King had arrived in the Valley, 
 and was himself superintending the sumptuous prep- 
 arations that were then making in the vSaloons of the 
 Shalimar for her reception. The chill she felt on 
 receiving this intelligence, — which to a bride whose 
 heart was free and light would have brought only 
 images of affection and pleasure, — convinced her 
 that her peace was gone forever, and that she was 
 in love, irretrievably in love, with young Feramorz. 
 The veil had fallen off in which this passion at first 
 disguises itself, and to know that she loved was 
 now as painful as to love without knowing it had 
 been delicious. Feramorz, too, — what misery 
 would be his, if the sweet hours of intercourse so 
 imprudently allowed them should have stolen into 
 his heart the same fatal fascination as into hers ; — 
 if, notwithstanding her rank, and the modest homage 
 he always paid to it, even he should have yielded to 
 the influence of those long and happy interviews, 
 where music, poetry, the delightful scenes of nature, 
 — all had tended to bring their hearts close to- 
 gether, and to waken by every means that too ready 
 passion, which often, like the young of the desert- 
 bird, is warmed into life by the eyes alone ! ""^ She 
 saw but one way to preserve herself fi'om being cul- 
 pable as well as unhappy, and this, however painful, 
 she was resolved to adopt. Feramorz must no 
 more be admitted to her presence. To have strayed
 
 LALLA ROOKH. 139 
 
 SO far into the dangerous labyrinth was wrong, but 
 to linger in it, while the clew was yet in her hand, 
 would be criminal. Though the heart she had to 
 offer to the King of Bucharia might be cold and 
 broken, it should at least be pure ; and she must 
 only endeavor to forget the short dream of happiness 
 she had enjoyed, — like that Arabian shepherd, who, 
 in wandering into the wilderness, caught a glimpse 
 of the Gardens of Irini, and then lost them again 
 forever ! ^°^ 
 
 The arrival of the young Bride at Lahore was 
 celebrated in tire most enthusiastic manner. The 
 Rajas and Omras in her train, who had kept at a 
 certain distance during the journey, and never en- 
 camped nearer to the Princess than was strictly 
 necessary for her safeguard, here rode in splendid 
 cavalcade through the city, and distributed the most 
 costly presents to the crowd. Engines were erected 
 in all the squares, which cast forth showers of con- 
 fectionery among the people ; while the artisans, in 
 chariots ^"^ adorned with tinsel and flying stream- 
 ers, exhibited the badges of their respective trades 
 through the streets. Such brilliant displays of life 
 and pageantry among the palaces, and domes, and 
 gilded minarets of Lahore, made the city altogether 
 like a place of enchantment ; — particularly on the 
 day when Lalla Rookh set out again upon her 
 journey, when she was accompanied to the gate by 
 all the fairest and richest of the nobility, and rode
 
 140 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 along between ranks of beautiful boys and girls, who 
 kept waving over their heads plates of gold and 
 silver flowers,^"*' and then threw them around to be 
 gathered by the populace. 
 
 For many days after their dej^arture from Lahore, 
 a considerable degree of gloom hung over the whole 
 party. Lalla Rookh, who had intended to make 
 illness her excuse for not admitting the young min- 
 strel, as usual, to the pavilion, soon found that to 
 feign indisposition was unnecessary; — Fadladeen 
 felt the loss of the good road they had hitherto trav- 
 elled, and was very near cursing Jehan-Guire (of 
 blessed memory!) for not having continued his de- 
 lectable alley of trees,-*^'' at least as far as the moun- 
 tains of Cashmere ; — while the Ladies, who had 
 nothing now to do all day but to be fanned by pea- 
 cocks' feathers and listen to Fadladeen, seemed 
 heartily weary of the life they led, and, in spite of 
 all the Great Chamberlain's criticisms, were so taste- 
 less as to wish for the poet again. One evening, as 
 they were proceeding to their place of rest for the 
 night, the Princess, who, for the freer enjoyment of 
 the air, had mounted her favorite Arabian palfrey, 
 in passing by a small grove heard the notes of a lute 
 from within its leaves, and a voice, which she but 
 too well knew, singing the following words : — 
 
 Tell me not of joys above. 
 If that world can give no bliss,
 
 LALLA ROOKH. 141 
 
 Truer, happier than the Love 
 
 Which enslaves our souls in this. 
 
 Tell me not of Ilouries' eyes ; — 
 F'ar from me their dangerous glow, 
 
 If those looks that light the skies 
 Wound like some that burn below. 
 
 Who, that feels what Love is here, 
 All its falsehood — all its pain — 
 
 Would, for even Elysium's sphere, 
 Risk the fatal dream again? 
 
 Who, that midst a desert's heat 
 
 Sees the waters fide away, 
 Would not rather die than meet 
 
 Streams again as false as they ? 
 
 The tone of melancholy defiance in which these 
 words were uttered, went to Lalla Rookh's heart ; 
 — and, as she reluctantly rode on, she could not 
 help feeling it to be a sad but still sweet certainty, 
 that Feramorz was to the full as enamored and 
 miserable as herself 
 
 The place where they encamped that evening was 
 the first delightful spot they had come to since they 
 left Lahore. On one side of them was a grove full 
 of small Hindoo temples, and planted with the most 
 graceful trees of the East ; where the tamarind, ihe
 
 142 LALLA llOOKH. 
 
 cassia, and the silken plantains of Ceylon were min- 
 gled in ricli contrast with the high fan-hke foliage 
 of the Palmyra, — that favorite tree of the luxuri- 
 ous bird that lights up the chambers of its nest with 
 fire-flies."°^ In the middle of the lawn where the 
 pavilion stood there was a tank surrounded by small 
 mangoe-trees, on the clear cold waters of which 
 floated multitudes of the beautiful red lotus ; -°^ while 
 at a distance stood the ruins of a strange and awful- 
 looking tower, which seemed old enough to have 
 been the temple of some religion no longer known, 
 and which spoke the voice of desolation in the midst 
 of all that bloom and loveliness. This singular ruin 
 excited the wonder and conjectures of all. Lalla 
 E.OOKH guessed in vain, and the all-pretending Fad- 
 LADEEN, who had never till this journey been be- 
 yond the .precincts of Delhi, was proceeding most 
 learnedly to show that he knew nothing whatever 
 about the matter, when one of the Ladies suggested 
 that perhaps Feramorz could satisfy their curiosity. 
 They were now approaching his native mountains, 
 and this tower might perhaps be a relic of some of 
 those dark superstitions, which had prevailed in that 
 country before the light of Islam dawned upon it. 
 The Chamberlain, who usually preferred his own ig- 
 norance to the best knowledge that any one else 
 could give him, was by no means pleased with this 
 officious reference ; and the Princess, too, was about 
 to interpose a faint word of objection, but, before 
 either of them could speak, a slave was dispatched
 
 LALLA ROOKH. 143 
 
 for Feramorz, who, in a very few minutes, made 
 his appearance before them — looking so pale and 
 unhappy in Lalla Rookh's eyes, that she repented 
 already of her cruelty in having so long excluded 
 him. 
 
 That venerable tower, he told them, was the re- 
 mains of an ancient Fire-temple, built by those 
 Ghebers or Persians of the old religion, who, many 
 hundred years since, had fled hither from their Arab 
 conquerors,^^" preferring liberty and their altars in a 
 foreign land to the alternative of apostasy or per- 
 secution in their own. It was impossible, he added, 
 not to feel interested in the many glorious but un- 
 successful struggles, which had been made by these 
 original natives of Persia to cast off the yoke of 
 their bigoted conquerors. Like their own Fire in 
 the Burning Field at Bakou,"^^ when suppressed in 
 one place, they had but broken out with fresh flame 
 in another ; and, as a native of Cashmere, of that 
 fair and Holy Valley, which had in the same manner 
 become the prey of strangers,^^^ and seen her ancient 
 shrines and native princes swept away before the 
 march of her intolerant invaders, he felt a sympathy, 
 he owned, with the sufferings of the persecuted Ghe- 
 bers, which every monument like this before them 
 but tended more powerfully to awaken. 
 
 It was the first time that Feramorz had ever 
 ventured upon so much prose before Fadladeen,
 
 144 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 and it may easily be conceived what effect such 
 prose as this must have produced upon that most 
 orthodox and most pagan-hating personage. He sat 
 for some minutes agliast, ejaculating only at inter- 
 vals, " Bigoted conquerors ! — sympathy with Fire- 
 worshippers ! " ^^^ — while Feramorz, happy to take 
 advantage of this almost speechless horror of the 
 Chamberlain, proceeded to say that he knew a mel- 
 ancholy story, connected with the events of one of 
 those struggles of the brave Fire-worshippers against 
 their Arab masters, which, if the evening was not 
 too far advanced, he should have much pleasure in 
 being allowed to relate to the Princess. It was im- 
 possible for Lalla Rookh to refuse ; — he had 
 never before looked half so animated ; and when be 
 spoke of the Holy Valley his eyes had sparkled, she 
 thought, like the talismanic characters on the scimi- 
 tar of Solomon. Her consent was therefore most 
 readily granted ; and while Fadladeen sat in un- 
 speakable dismay, expecting treason and abomina- 
 tion in every line, the poet thus began his story of 
 the Fire-worshippers : — 
 
 i 
 
 T 

 
 >>-i.^ 
 
 I^^gj^^gjj 
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 
 
 'T IS moonlight over Oman's Sea ; •^^ 
 
 Her banks of pearl and palmy isles 
 Bask in the night-beam bealiteously, 
 
 And her blue waters sleep in smiles. 
 'T is moonlight in Harmozia's "^^ walls, 
 And through her Emir's porphyry halls, 
 Where, some hours since, was heard the swell 
 Of trumpet and the clash of zel,-^® 
 Bidding the bright-eyed sun farewell ; — 
 The peaceful sun, whom better suits 
 
 The music of the bulbiil's nest, 
 Or the light touch of lovers' lutes, 
 
 To sing him to his golden rest. 
 All hushed — there 's not a breeze in motion ; 
 The shore is silent as the ocean. 
 If zephyrs come, so light they come, 
 
 , Nor leaf is stirred nor wave is driven ; — 
 The wind-tower on the Emir's dome -^^ 
 
 Can hardly win a breath from heaven. 
 
 Even he, that tyrant Arab, sleeps 
 10
 
 146 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Calm, while a nation round him weeps ; 
 
 While curses load the air he breathes, 
 
 And falchions from unnumbered sheaths 
 
 Are starting to avenge the shame 
 
 His race hath brought on Iran's ^^^ name. 
 
 Hard, heartless Chief, inimoved alike 
 
 Mid eyes that weep, and swords that strike ; — 
 
 One of that saintly, nuu'derous brood, 
 
 To carnage and the Koran given. 
 Who think through unbelievers' blood 
 
 Lies their directest path to heaven ; — 
 One, who will pause and kneel luishod 
 
 In the warm blood his hand hath poured, 
 To mutter o'er some text of God 
 
 Engraven on his reeking sword ; — ^^^ 
 Nay, who can coolly note the line, 
 The letter of those words divine, 
 To which his blade, with searching art. 
 Had sunk into its victim's heart ! 
 
 Just Alla ! what must be thy look. 
 
 When such a wretch before thee stands 
 Unblushing, with thy Sacred Book, — 
 
 Turning the leaves with blood-stained hands. 
 And wresting from its page sublime 
 His creed of lust, and hate, and crime ; — 
 Even as those bees of Trebizoxd, 
 
 Which, from the sunniest flowers that glad 
 With their pure smile the gardens roimd, 
 
 Draw venom forth that drives men mad.^^"
 
 THE riRE-WOESHIPPERS. 147 
 
 Never did fierce Arabia send 
 
 A satrap forth more direly great ; 
 Never was Iran doomed to bend 
 
 Beneath a yoke of deadlier weight. 
 Her throne had fallen — her pride was crushed — 
 Her sons were willing slaves, nor blushed, 
 In their own land, — no more their own, — 
 To crouch beneath a stranger's throne. 
 Her towers, where Mithra once had burned, 
 To Moslem shrines — oh, shame ! — were turned, 
 Where slaves, converted by the sword. 
 Their mean, apostate worship poured, 
 And cursed the faith their sires adored. 
 Yet has she hearts, mid all this ill, 
 O'er all this wreck high buoyant still 
 With hope and vengeance ; — hearts that yet — 
 
 Like gems, in darkness, issuing rays 
 They 've treasured from the sun that 's set, — 
 
 Beam all the light of long-lost days ! 
 And swords she hath, nor weak nor slow 
 
 To second all such hearts can dare ; 
 As he shall know, well, dearly know, 
 
 Who sleeps in moonlight luxury there, 
 Tranquil as if his spirit lay 
 Becalmed in Heaven's approving ray. 
 Sleep on — for purer eyes than thine 
 Those waves are hushed, those planets shine ; 
 Sleep on, and be thy rest unmoved 
 
 By the white moonbeam's dazzling power ; — 
 None but the loving and the loved 
 
 Should be awake at this sweet hour.
 
 148 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 And see — where, high above those rocks 
 That o'er the deep their shadows fling, 
 Yon turret stands ; — where ebon locks, 
 As glossy as a heron's wing 
 Upon the turljan of a king,-^-^ 
 Hang from the lattice, long and wild, — 
 'T is she, that Emir's blooming child, 
 All truth and tenderness and grace, 
 Though born of such imgentle race ; — 
 An image of Youth's radiant Fountain 
 Springing in a desolate mountain ! -"^ 
 
 Oh, what a pure and sacred thing- 
 Is Beauty, curtained from the sight 
 
 Of the gross world, illumining 
 One only mansion with her light ! 
 
 Unseen by man's disturbing eye, — 
 
 The flower that blooms beneath the sea, 
 
 Too deep for sunbeams, doth not lie 
 Hid in more chaste obscurity. 
 
 So, HiNDA, have thy face and mind, 
 
 Like holy mysteries, lain enshrined. 
 
 And oh, what transport for a lover 
 
 To lift the veil that shades them o'er ! — 
 
 Like those who, all at once, discover 
 In the lone deep some fairy shore, 
 Where mortal never trod before, 
 
 And sleep and wake in scented airs 
 
 No lip had ever breathed but theirs.
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 149 
 
 Beautiful are the maids that glide, 
 
 On summer-eves, through Yemen's ^^ dales, 
 And bright the glancing looks they hide 
 
 Behind their litters' roseate veils ; — 
 And brides, as delicate and fair 
 As the white jasmine flowers they wear. 
 Hath Yehen in her blissful clime, 
 
 "VYlio, lulled in cool kiosk or bower,^^* 
 Before their mirrors count the time,-^ 
 
 And grow still lovelier every hour. 
 But never yet hath bride or maid 
 
 In Araby's gay Harem smiled. 
 Whose boasted brightness would not fade 
 
 Before Al Hassan's blooming child. 
 
 Light as the angel shapes that bless 
 An infant's dream, yet not the less 
 Rich in all woman's loveliness ; — 
 With eyes so pure, that from their ray 
 Dark Vice would turn abashed away, 
 Blinded like ser^^ents, when they gaze 
 Upon the emerald's virgin blaze ; — -"® 
 Yet filled with all youth's sweet desires, 
 Mingling the meek and vestal fires 
 Of other worlds with all the bliss, 
 The fond, weak tenderness of this : 
 A soul, too, more than half divine, 
 
 Wliere, through some shades of earthly feelings 
 Religion's softened glories shine. 
 
 Like light through summer foliage stealing,
 
 150 LALLA ROOKII. 
 
 Shedding a glow of such mild hue, 
 So warm, and yet so shadowy too. 
 As makes the very darkness there 
 More beautiful than light elsewhere. 
 
 Such is the maid w^ho, at this hour, 
 
 Hath risen from her restless sleep. 
 And sits alone in that high bower. 
 
 Watching the still and shining deep. 
 Ah ! 't was not tlius — with tearful eyes 
 
 And beating heart — she used to gaze 
 On the magnificent earth and skies, 
 
 In her own land, in happier days. 
 Why looks she now so anxious down 
 Among those rocks, whose rugged frown 
 
 Blackens the mirror of the deep ? 
 Wliom waits she all this lonely night, 
 
 Too rough the rocks, too bold the steep, 
 For man to scale that turret's height ! — 
 
 So deemed at least her thoughtful sire. 
 
 When high, to catch the cool night-air. 
 After the day-beam's withering fire,"^^^ 
 
 He built her bower of freshness there, 
 And had it decked with costliest skill. 
 
 And fondly thought it safe as fair : — 
 Think, reverend dreamer ! think so still. 
 
 Nor wake to learn what Love can dare ; - 
 Love, all-defying Love, who sees 
 No charm in trophies won with ease ; —
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 151 
 
 "Wliose rarest, dearest fruits of bliss 
 Are plucked on Danger's precipice ! 
 Bolder than they, who dare not dive 
 
 For pearls, but when the sea 's at rest, 
 Love, in the temjDest most alive. 
 
 Hath ever held that pearl the best 
 He finds beneath the stormiest water. 
 Yes — Akaby's unrivalled daughter, 
 Though high that tower, that rock-way rude, 
 
 There 's one who, but to kiss thy cheek, 
 Would climb th' untrodden solitude 
 
 Of Ararat's tremendous peak,'-^-^ 
 And think its steej^s, though dark and dread, 
 Heaven's pathways, if to thee they led ! 
 Even now thou seest the flashing spray, 
 That lights his oar's impatient way ; — 
 Even now thou hearest the sudden shock 
 Of his swift bark against the rock. 
 And stretchest down thy arms of snow. 
 As if to lift him from below ! 
 Like her to whom, at dead of night, 
 The bridegroom, with his locks of light,^^ 
 Came, in the flush of love and pride, 
 And scaled the terrace of his bride ; — 
 When, as she saw him rashly spring. 
 And midway up in danger cling. 
 She flung him down her long black hair. 
 Exclaiming, breathless, " There, love, there ! " 
 And scarce did manlier nerve uphold 
 
 The hero Zal in that fond hour,
 
 152 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Than wings the youth who, fleet and bold, 
 Now cHmbs the rocks to Hinda's bower. 
 
 See — light as up their granite steeps 
 The rock-goats of Arabia clamber,-^" 
 
 Fearless from crag to crag he leaps, 
 •^And now is in the maiden's chamber. 
 
 She loves — but knows not whom she loves, 
 
 Nor what his race, nor whence he came ; — 
 Like one who meets, in Indian groves. 
 
 Some beauteous bird without a name, 
 Brought by the last ambrosial breeze. 
 From isles in th' undiscovered seas. 
 To show his plumage for a day 
 To wondering eyes, and wing away ! 
 Will he thus fly — her nameless lover ? 
 
 All A forbid ! 't was by a moon 
 As fair as this, while singing over 
 
 Some ditty to her soft Kanoon,-^^ 
 Alone, at this same witching hour, 
 
 She first beheld his radiant eyes 
 Gleam through the lattice of the bower. 
 
 Where nightly now they mix their sighs ; 
 And thought some spirit of the air 
 (For what could waft a mortal there ?) 
 Was pausing on his moonlight way 
 To listen to her lonely lay ! 
 This fancy ne'er hath left her mind : 
 
 And — though, when terror's swoon had past. 
 She saw a youth, of mortal kind.
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 153 
 
 Before her in obeisance cast, — 
 Yet often since, when he hath spoken 
 Strange, awful words, — and gleams have broken 
 From his dark eyes, too bright to bear, 
 
 Oh ! she hath feared her soul was given 
 To some unhallowed child of air, — 
 
 Some erring Spirit cast from heaven. 
 Like those angelic youths of old, 
 "V\nio burned for maids of mortal mould, 
 Bewildered left the glorious skies. 
 And lost their heaven for woman's eyes. 
 Fond girl ! nor fiend nor angel he 
 Wlio woos thy young simplicity ; 
 But one of earth's impassioned sons. 
 
 As warm in love, as fierce in ire. 
 As the best heart whose current runs 
 
 Full of the Day-God's living fire. 
 But quenched to-night that ardor seems. 
 
 And pale his cheek, and sunk his brow ; — 
 Never before, but in her dreams, 
 
 Had she beheld him pale as noAv : 
 And those were dreams of troubled sleep. 
 From which 't was joy to wake and weep ; 
 Visions, that will not be forgot. 
 
 But sadden every waking scene. 
 Like warning ghosts, that leave the spot 
 
 All withered where they once have been. 
 
 " How sweetly," said the trembling maid. 
 Of her own sentle voice afraid,
 
 154 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 So long had they in silence stood, 
 
 Looking upon that tranquil flood, — 
 
 " How sweetly does the moon-beam smile 
 
 " To-night upon yon leafy isle ! 
 
 " Oft, in my fancy's wanderings, 
 
 " I 've wished that little isle had wings, 
 
 " And we, within its fairy bowers, 
 
 " Were wafted off to seas unknown, 
 " Where not a pulse should beat but ours, 
 
 " And we might live, love, die alone ! 
 " Far from the cruel and the cold, — 
 
 " Wliere the bright eyes of angels only 
 " Should come around us, to behold 
 
 " A paradise so pure and lonely. 
 " Would this be world enough for thee ? " — 
 Playful she turned, that he might see 
 
 The passing smile her cheek put on ; 
 But when she marked how mournfully 
 
 His eyes met hers, that smile was gone ; 
 And, bursting into heartfelt tears, 
 " Yes, yes," she cried, " my hourly fears, 
 " My dreams have boded all too right — 
 " We part — forever part — to-night ! 
 " I knew, I knew it could not last — 
 " 'T was bright, 't was heavenly, but 't is past ! 
 " Oh ! ever thus, from childhood's hour, 
 
 " I 've seen my fondest hopes decay ; 
 " I never loved a tree or flower, 
 
 " But 't was the first to fade away. 
 " I never nursed a dear gazelle,
 
 THE FIHE-WOESHIPPERS. 155 
 
 " To glad me with its soft black eye, 
 " But when it came to know me well, 
 
 V And love me, it was sure to die ! 
 " Now too — the joy most like di\dne 
 
 " Of all I ever dreamt or knew, 
 " To see thee, hear thee, call thee mine, — 
 
 " Oh misery ! must I lose that too ? 
 " Yet go — on peril's brink we meet ; — 
 
 "Those frightful rocks — that treacherous sea — 
 " No, never come again — though sweet, 
 
 " Though heaven, it may be death to thee. 
 " Farewell — and blessings on thy way, 
 
 " Wliere'er thou goest, beloved stranger ! 
 " Better to sit and watch that ray, 
 " And think thee safe, though far away, 
 
 " Than have thee near me, and in danger ! " 
 
 " Danger ! — oh, tempt me not to boast " — 
 The youth exclaimed — " thou little knowest 
 " Wliat he can brave, who, born and nurst 
 " In Danger's paths, has dared her worst ; 
 " Upon whose ear the signal-word 
 
 " Of strife and death is hourly breaking ; 
 " Wlio sleeps with head upon the sword 
 
 " His fevered hand must grasp in waking. 
 " Danger ! " — 
 
 " Say on — thou fear'st not then, 
 " And we may meet — oft meet again ? " 
 
 " Oh ! look not so — beneath the skies
 
 156 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " I now fear nothing but those eyes. 
 
 " If aught on earth could charm or force 
 
 " My spirit from its destined course, — 
 
 " If auglit could make this soul forget 
 
 " The bond to which its seal is set, 
 
 " 'T would be those eyes ; — they, only they, 
 
 " Could melt that sacred seal away ! 
 
 " But no — 't is fixed — my awful doom ~ 
 
 " Is fixed — on this side of the tomb 
 
 " We meet no more ; — why, why did Heaven 
 
 " Mingle two souls that earth has riven, 
 
 " Has rent asunder wide as ours ? 
 
 " Oh, Arab maid, as soon the Powers 
 
 " Of Light and Darkness may combine, 
 
 " As I be linked with thee or thine ! 
 
 " Thy Father " • 
 
 " Holy Alla save 
 
 " His gray head from that lightning glance ! 
 " Thou knowest him not — he loves the brave ; 
 
 " Nor lives there under heaven's exjoanse 
 " One who would prize, would worship thee 
 " And thy bold spirit, more than he. 
 " Oft when, in childhood, I have played 
 
 " With the bright falchion by his side, 
 " I 've heard him swear his lisping maid 
 
 " In time should be a warrior's bride. 
 " And still, whene'er at Harem hours, 
 " I take him cool sherbets and flowers, 
 " He tells me, when in playful mood, 
 
 "• A hero shall my bridegroom be,
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 157 
 
 " Since maids are best in battle wooed, 
 
 " And won with shouts of victory ! 
 " Nay, turn not from me — thou alone 
 " Art formed to make both hearts thy own. 
 " Go — join his sacred ranks — thou knowest 
 
 " Th' imholy strife these Persians wage : — 
 " Good Heaven, that frown ! — even now thou glow'st 
 
 " With more than mortal warrior's rage. 
 " Haste to the camp by morning's light, 
 " And, when that sword is raised in fight, 
 " Oh, still remember, Love and I 
 " Beneath its shadow trembling lie ! 
 " One victory o'er those Slaves of Fire, 
 " Those impious Ghebers, wl.om my sire 
 
 " Abhors " 
 
 " Hold, hold — thy words are death " — 
 
 The stranger cried, as wild he flung 
 His mantle back, and showed beneath 
 
 The Gheber belt that round him clung. — ^^■- 
 " Here, maiden, look — weei3 — blush to see 
 "vAll that thy sire abhors in me ! 
 " Yes — / am of that impious race, 
 
 " Those Slaves of Fire who, morn and even, 
 " Hail their Creator's dwelling-place 
 
 " Among the living lights of heaven : -'^'^ 
 " Yes — /am of that outcast few, 
 " To Iran and to vengeance true, 
 " Who curse the hour your Arabs came 
 " To desolate oiu- shrines of flame, 
 " And swear, before God's burning eye.
 
 158 LALLA KOOKH. 
 
 " To break our country's chains, or die ! 
 " Thy bigot sire, — nay, tremble not, — 
 
 " He, who gave birth to those dear eyes, 
 " With me is sacred as the sjDOt 
 
 " From which our fires of worship rise ! 
 " But know — 't was he I sought that night, 
 
 " When, from my watch-boat on the sea, 
 " I caught this turret's glimmering light, 
 
 " And up the rude rocks desperately 
 " Rushed to my prey — thou know'st the rest — 
 " I climbed the gory vulture's nest, 
 " And found a tremblitig dove within ; — 
 " Thine, thine the victory — thine the sin — 
 " If Love hath made one thought his own, 
 " That Vengeance claims first — last — alone ! 
 " Oh ! had we never, never met, 
 " Or could this heart even now forget 
 " How linked, how blessed we might have been, 
 " Had fate not frowned so dark between ! 
 " Hadst thou been born a Persian maid, 
 
 " In neighboring valleys had we dwelt, " 
 
 " Through the same fields in childhood jilayed, 
 
 " At the same kindling altar knelt, — 
 " Then, then, while all those nameless ties, 
 " In which the charm of Country lies, 
 " Had round our hearts been hourly spun, 
 " Till Iran's cause and thine were one ; 
 " While in thy lute's awakening sigh 
 " I heard the voice of days gone by, 
 " And saw, in every smile of thine,
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIFPEES. 159 
 
 " Returning hours of glory shine ; — 
 " While the wronged Spirit of our Land 
 
 " Lived, looked, and spoke her wrongs through 
 thee, — 
 " God ! who could then this sword withstand ? 
 
 " Its very flash were victory ! 
 " But now — estranged, divorced forever, 
 " Far as the grasp of Fate can sever ; 
 " Our only ties what love has wove, — 
 
 " In faith, friends, country, sundered wide ; 
 " And then, then only, true to love, 
 
 " When false to all that 's dear beside ! 
 " Thy father Iran's deadliest foe — 
 " Thyself, perhaj^s, even now — but no — 
 " Hate never looked so lovely yet ! 
 
 " No — sacred to thy soul will be 
 " The land of him who could forget 
 
 " All but that bleeding land for thee. 
 " When other eyes shall see, unmoved, 
 
 " Her widows mourn, her warriors fall, 
 " Thou 'It think how well one Gheber loved, 
 
 " And for his sake thou 'It weep for all ! 
 
 "But look" 
 
 With sudden start he turned 
 
 And jDointed to the distant wave, 
 Wliere lights, like charnel meteors, bia^ned 
 
 Bluely, as o'er some seaman's grave ; 
 And fiery darts, at intervals,-^'* 
 
 Flew up all sparkling from the n\ain, 
 As if each star that nightly falls.
 
 160 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Were shooting back to heaven again. 
 " My signal liglits ! — I mnst away — 
 " Both, both are ruined, if I stay. 
 " Farewell — sweet life ! thou cling'st in vain - 
 " Now, Vengeance, I am thine again ! " 
 
 Fiercely he bi'oke away, nor stopped, 
 
 Nor looked — but from the lattice dropped 
 
 Down mid the pointed crags beneath, 
 
 As if he fled from love to death. 
 
 While pale and mute young Hinda stood, 
 
 Nor moved, till in the silent flood 
 
 A momentary plunge below 
 
 Startled her from her trance of woe ; — 
 
 Shrieking she to the lattice flew, 
 
 " I come — I come — if in that tide 
 " Thou sleep'st to-night, I '11 sleep there too, 
 
 " In death's cold wedlock, by thy side. 
 " Oh ! I would ask no happier bed 
 
 " Than the chill wave my love lies under — 
 " Sweeter to rest together dead, 
 
 " Far sweeter, than to live asunder ! " 
 But no — their hour is not yet come : 
 
 Again she sees his pinnace fly, 
 Wafting him fleetly to his home. 
 
 Where'er that ill-starred home may lie ; 
 And calm and smooth it seemed to win 
 
 Its moonlight way before the wind. 
 As if it bore all peace within, 
 
 Nor left one breaking heart behind !
 
 The Princess, whose heart was sad enough al- 
 ready, could have wished that Feramorz had chosen 
 a less melancholy story ; as it is only to the happy 
 that tears are a luxury. Her Ladies, however, were 
 hif no means sorry that love Avas once more the 
 Poet's theme ; for, whenever he spoke of love, thejr 
 said, his voice was as sweet as if he had chewed the 
 leaves of that enclianted tree, which grows over the 
 tomb of the musician, Tan-Sein.^^^ 
 
 Their road all the morning had lain through a very 
 dreary country ; — through valleys, covered with a 
 low bushy jungle, where, in more than one place, the 
 awful signal of the bamboo staff,^^^ with the white 
 flag at its top, reminded the traveller that, in that 
 very spot, the tiger had made some human creature, 
 his victim. It was, therefore, with much pleasure 
 that they arrived at sunset in a safe and lovely glen, 
 and encamped under one of those holy trees, whose 
 smooth columns and spreading roofs seem to destine 
 them for natural temples of religion. Beneath this 
 spacious shade, some pious hands had erected a row 
 of pillars ornamented with the most beautiful porce- 
 lain,^^'' which now supplied the use of mifrors to the 
 11
 
 162 
 
 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 young maidens, as they adjusted their hair in de- 
 scending from the palankeens. Here, while, as 
 usual, the Princess sat listening anxiously, with 
 Fadladeen in one of his loftiest moods of criti- 
 cism by her side, the young Poet, leaning against a 
 branch of the tree, thus continued his story : —
 
 The morn hath risen clear and cahii, 
 
 And o'er the Green Sea ^^^ palely shines, 
 Revealing Bahrein's groves ^® of palm, 
 
 And lighting Kishma's ^^ amber vines. 
 Fresh smell the shores of Araby, 
 While breezes from the Indian sea 
 Blow round Selama's "^° sainted cape, 
 
 And curl the shining flood beneath, — 
 Whose waves are rich with many a grape, 
 
 And cocoa-nut and flowery wreath. 
 Which pious seamen, as they pass'd. 
 Had tow'rd that holy headland cast — 
 Oblations to the Genii there 
 For gentle skies and breezes fair ! 
 The nightingale now bends her flight ^^-^ 
 From the high trees, where all the night 
 
 She sung so sweet, with none to listen ; 
 And hides her from the morning star 
 
 Where thickets of jDomegranate glisten 
 In the clear dawn, — bespangled o'er 
 
 With dew, whose night-drops would not stain 
 The best and brightest scimitar ^*'^ 
 That ever youthful Sultan wore 
 
 On the first mornin<r of his rei^n.
 
 164 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 And see — the Sun himself! — on wings 
 Of glory up the East he springs. 
 Anorel of Liffht ! who from the time 
 Those heavens began their march sublime, 
 Hath first of all the starry choir 
 Trod in his Maker's steps of fire ! 
 
 Where are the days, thou wondrous sphere, 
 ^Vlien Iran, like a sun-flower, turned 
 To meet that eye where'er it burned ? — 
 
 When, from the banks of Bendemeer 
 To the nut-groves of Samarcand, 
 Thy temples flamed o'er all the land ? 
 Where are they ? ask the shades of them 
 
 Who, on Cadessia's ^''^ bloody plains. 
 Saw fierce invaders pluck the gem 
 From Iran's broken diadem, 
 
 And bind her ancient faith in chains : — 
 Ask the poor exile, cast alone 
 On foreign shores, unloved, unknown. 
 Beyond the Caspian's Iron Gates,^''^ 
 
 Or on the snowy Mossian mountains, 
 Far from his beauteous land of dates. 
 
 Her jasmine bowers and sunny fountains : 
 Yet happier so than if he trod 
 His own beloved, but blighted, sod. 
 Beneath a despot stranger's nod ! — 
 Oh, he would rather houseless roam 
 
 Where Freedom and his God may lead. 
 Than be the sleekest slave at home 
 
 That crouches to the conqueror's creed !
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 165 
 
 Is iRAjsf's pride then gone forever, 
 
 Quenched with the flame in Mithra's caves ? — 
 No — she has sons, that never — never — 
 Will stoop to be the Moslem's slaves, 
 While heaven has light or eai-th has graves ; — 
 Spirits of fire, that brood not long, 
 But flash resentment back for wrong ; 
 And hearts where, ,slow but deep, the seeds 
 Of vengeance ripen into deeds. 
 Till, in some treacherous hour of calm, 
 They burst, like Zeilan's giant palm,^^^ 
 Whose buds fly open with a sound 
 That shakes the pigmy forests round ! 
 
 Yes, Emir ! he, who scaled that tower, 
 
 And, had he reached thy slumbering breast, 
 Had taught thee, in a Gheber's power 
 
 How safe e'en tyrant heads may rest — 
 Is one of many, brave as he, 
 Who loathe thy haughty race and thee ; 
 Who, though they know the strife is vain, 
 Who, though they know the riven chain 
 Snaps but to enter in the heart 
 Of him who rends its links apart. 
 Yet dare the issue, — blest to be 
 E'en for one bleeding moment free. 
 And die in pangs of liberty ! 
 Thou know'st them well — 't is some moons since 
 
 Thy turban ed troops and blood-red flags, 
 Thou satrap of a bigot Prince, 
 
 Have swarmed among these Green Sea crags ;
 
 166 LALLA ROOK II. 
 
 Yet here, e'en here, a sacred band 
 
 Ay, in the portal of that land 
 
 Thou, Arab, dar'st to call thy own. 
 
 Their spears across thy path have thrown ; 
 
 Here — ere the winds half winged thee o'er- 
 
 Rebellion braved thee from the shore. 
 
 Rebellion ! foul, dishonoring word, 
 
 Whose wrongful blight so oft has stained 
 The holiest cause that tongue or sword 
 
 Of mortal ever lost or gained. 
 How many a spirit, born to bless, 
 
 Hath sunk beneath that withering name, 
 Wliom but a day's, an hour's success 
 
 Had wafted to eternal fame ! 
 As exhalations, when they burst 
 From the warm earth, if chilled at first. 
 If checked in soaring from the plain. 
 Darken to fogs and sink again ; — 
 But, if they once triumphant spread 
 Their wings above the mountain-head, 
 Become enthroned in upper air, 
 And turn to sun-bright glories there ! 
 
 And who is he, that wields the might 
 Of Freedom on the Green Sea brink. 
 
 Before whose sabre's dazzling light -^^ 
 The eyes of Yemen's warriors wink ? 
 
 Who comes, embowered in the spears 
 
 Of Kerman's hardy mountaineers ? —
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 167 
 
 Those mountaineers that truest, last, 
 Cling to their country's ancient rites, 
 
 As if that God, whose eyelids cast 
 
 Their closing gleam on Iran's heights, 
 
 Among her snowy mountains threw 
 
 The last light of his worship too ! 
 
 'T is Hafed — name of fear, whose sound 
 
 Chills like the muttering of a charm ! — 
 Shout but that awful name around, 
 
 And palsy shakes the manliest arm. 
 'T is Hafed, most accursed and dire 
 (So ranked by Moslem hate and ire) 
 Of all the rebel Sons of Fire ; 
 Of whose malign, tremendous power 
 The Arabs, at their mid-watch hour, 
 Such tales of fearful wonder tell. 
 That each affrighted sentinel 
 Pulls down his cowl upon his eyes. 
 Lest Hafed in the midst should rise ! 
 A man, they say, of monstrous birth, 
 A mingled race of flame and earth, 
 Sprung from those old, enchanted kings,^*^ 
 
 Who in their fairy helms, of yore 
 A feather from the mystic wings 
 
 Of the Simoorgh resistless wore ; 
 And gifted by the Fiends of Fire, 
 Who groaned to see their shrines expire. 
 With charms that, all in vain withstood, 
 Would drown the Koran's liofht in blood !
 
 108 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Such were the tales, that won belief, 
 
 And such the coloring Fancy gave 
 To a young, warm, and dauntless Chief, — 
 
 One who, no more than mortal brave, 
 Fought for the land his soul adored. 
 
 For hap25y homes and altars free, — 
 His only talisman, the sword. 
 
 His only spell-word, Liberty ! 
 One of that ancient hero line, 
 Along whose glorious current shine 
 Names, that have sanctified their blood ; 
 As Lebanon's small mountain-flood 
 Is rendered holy by the ranks 
 Of sainted cedars on its banks.-*® 
 'T was not for him to crouch the knee 
 Tamely to Moslem tyranny ; 
 'T was not for him, whose soul was cast 
 In the bright mould of ages past. 
 Whose melancholy spirit, fed 
 With all the glories of the dead, 
 Though framed for Iran's happiest years, 
 Was born among her chains and teai's ! 
 'T was not for him to swell the crowd 
 Of slavish heads, that shrinking bowed 
 Before the Moslem, as he passed, 
 Like shrubs beneath the poison-blast — 
 No — far he fled — indignant fled 
 
 The pageant of his country's shame ; 
 While every tear her children shed 
 
 Fell on his soul like drops of flame ;
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 169 
 
 And, as a lover hails the dawn. 
 
 Of a first smile, so welcomed he 
 The sparkle of the first sword drawn 
 
 For vengeance and for liberty ! 
 
 But vain was valor — vain the flower 
 Of Kerjian, in that deathful hour. 
 Against Al Hassan's whelming power. 
 In vain they met him, helm to helm, 
 Upon the threshold of that realm 
 He came in bigot pomp to sway, 
 And with their corpses blocked his way — 
 In vain — for every lance they raised. 
 Thousands around the conqueror blazed ; 
 For every arm that lined their shore, 
 Myriads of slaves were wafted o'er, — 
 A bloody, bold, and countless crowd. 
 Before whose swarm as fast they bowed 
 As dates beneath the locust cloud. 
 
 There stood — but one short league away 
 From old IIar:mozia's sultry bay — 
 A rocky mountain, o'er the Sea 
 Of Oman beetling awfully : "*^ 
 A last and solitary link 
 
 Of those stupendous chains that reach 
 From the broad Caspian's reedy brink 
 
 Down winding to the Green Sea beach. 
 Around its base the bare rocks stood, 
 Like naked mants, in the flood,
 
 170 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 As if to guard the Gulf across ; 
 While, on its peak, that braved the sky, 
 A ruined Temple towered, so high 
 
 That oft the sleeping albatross -^"^ 
 Struck the wild ruins with her wing. 
 And from her cloud-rocked slumbering 
 Started — to find man's dwelling there 
 In her own silent fields of air ! 
 Beneath, terrific caverns gave 
 Dark welcome to each stormy wave 
 That dashed, like midnight revellers, in ; — 
 And such the strange, mysterious din 
 At times throughout those caverns rolled, — 
 And such the fearful wonders told 
 Of restless sprites imprisoned there, 
 That bold were Moslem, who would dare, 
 At twilight hour, to steer his skiff 
 Beneath the Gheber's lonely cliff.-^^ 
 
 On the land side, those towers sublime. 
 That seemed above the grasp of Time, 
 Were severed from the haunts of men 
 By a wide, deep, and wizard glen. 
 So fathomless, so full of gloom. 
 
 No eye could pierce the void between : 
 It seemed a place where Gholes might come 
 With their foul banquets from the tomb, 
 
 And in its caverns feed unseen. 
 Like distant thunder, from below, 
 
 The sound of many torrents came,
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 171 
 
 Too deep for eye or ear to know 
 If 't were the sea's imprisoned flow, 
 
 Or floods of ever-restless flame. 
 For, each ravine, each rocky spire 
 Of that vast monntain stood on fire ; ^^^ 
 And, though forever past the days 
 When God was worshipped in the blaze 
 That from its lofty altar shone, — 
 Though fled the priests, the votaries gone. 
 Still did the mighty flame burn on,^^ 
 Through chance and change, through good and 
 
 ill, 
 Like its own God's eternal will. 
 Deep, constant, bright, unquenchable ! 
 
 Thither the vanquished Hafed' led 
 
 His little army's last remains : — 
 " Welcome, terrific glen ! " he said, 
 " Thy gloom, that Eblis' self might dread, 
 
 " Is heaven to him who flies from chains ! " 
 O'er a dark, narrow bridge-way, known 
 To him and to his Chiefs alone. 
 They crossed the chasm and gained the toAvers, — 
 " This home," he cried, " at least is ours ; — 
 " Here we may bleed, immocked by hymns 
 
 " Of Moslem triumph o'er our head ; 
 " Here we may fall, nor leave our limbs 
 
 " To quiver to the Moslem's tread. 
 " Stretched on this rock, while vultures' beaks 
 " Are whetted on our yet warm cheeks,
 
 172 LALLA EOOKH. 
 
 " Here — hfippy that no tyrant's eye 
 
 " Gloats on our torments — we may die ! " — 
 
 'T was night when to those towers they came, 
 
 And gloomily the fitful flame, 
 
 That from the ruined altar broke, 
 
 Glared on his features as he spoke : — 
 
 " 'T is o'er — what men could do, we 've done 
 
 " If Iran will look tamely on, 
 
 " And see her priests, her warriors driven 
 
 " Before a sensual bigot's nod, 
 " A wretch who shrines his lusts in heaven, 
 
 " And makes a pander of his God ; 
 "If her proud sons, her high-born souls, 
 
 " Men, in whose veins — oh, last disgrace ! 
 " The blood of Zai> and Eustam ^^* rolls, — 
 
 " If they ivill court this upstart race, 
 " And turn from Mithra's ancient ray, 
 " To kneel at shrines of yesterday ; 
 " If they tvill crouch to Iran's foes, 
 
 " Why, let them — till the land's despair 
 " Cries out to Heaven, and bondage grows 
 
 " Too vile for e'en the Aale to bear ! 
 " Till shame at last, long hidden, burns 
 " Their inmost core, and conscience turns 
 " Each coward tear the slave lets fall 
 " Back on his heart in drops of gall. 
 " But here, at least, are arms unchained, 
 " And souls that thraldom never stained ; — 
 
 " This spot, at least, no foot of slave
 
 THE FIRE-WORSUIPPERS. 173 
 
 " Or satrap ever yet profaned ; 
 
 " And though but few — though fast the wave 
 " Of Ufe is ebbing from our veins, 
 " Enough for vengeance still remains. 
 " As panthers, after set of sun, 
 " Rush from the roots of Lebanon 
 " Across the dark-sea robber's way,^^ 
 •^ "We '11 bound ujjon our startled prey ; 
 " And when some hearts that proudest swell 
 " Have felt our falchion's last farewell ; 
 " "NYhen Hope's expiring throb is o'er, 
 " And e'en despair can prompt no more, 
 " This spot shall be the sacred grave 
 " Of the last few who, vainly brave, 
 " Die for the land they cannot save ! 
 
 His Chiefs stood round — each shining blade 
 
 Upon the broken altar laid — 
 
 And though so wild and desolate 
 
 Those courts, where once the Mighty sate ; 
 
 Nor longer on those mouldering towers 
 
 Was seen the feast of fruits and flowers, 
 
 With which of old the Magi fed 
 
 The wandering Spirits of their dead ; -^® 
 
 Though neither priest nor rites were there, 
 
 Nor charmed leaf of pure pomegranate ; -" 
 Nor hymn, nor censer's fragrant air, 
 
 Nor symbol of their worshipped planet ; -^' 
 Yet the same God that heard their sires 
 Heard them, while on that altar's fires
 
 174 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 They swore'^^^ the latest, holiest deed 
 Of the few hearts, still left to bleed, 
 Should be, in Iran's injured name, 
 To die upon that Mount of Flame — 
 The last of all her patriot line. 
 Before her last untrampled Shrine ! 
 
 Brave, suffering souls ! they little knew 
 How many a tear their injuries drew 
 From one meek maid, one gentle foe, 
 Wliom love first touched with others' woe — 
 Whose life, as free from thought as sin, 
 Slept like a lake, till Love threw in 
 His talisman, and woke the tide, 
 And spread its trembling circles wide. 
 Once, Emir ! thy unheeding child, 
 Mid all this havoc, bloomed and smiled, — 
 Tranquil as on some battle plain 
 
 The Persian lily shines and towers,^*'" 
 Before the combat's reddening stain 
 
 Hath fallen upon her golden flowers. 
 Light-hearted maid, unawed, unmoved. 
 While Heaven but spared the sire she loved, 
 Once at thy evening tales of blood 
 Unlistening and aloof she stood — 
 And oft, when thou hast paced along 
 
 Thy Harem halls with furious heat 
 Hast thou not cursed her cheerful song. 
 
 That came across thee, calm and sweet, 
 Like lutes of angels, touched so near 
 Hell's confines, that the damned can hear !
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 175 
 
 Far othei' feelings Love hath brought — 
 
 Her soul all flame, her brow all sadness, 
 She now has but the one dear thought. 
 
 And thinks that o'er, almost to madness ! 
 Oft doth her sinking heart recall 
 His words, — " For my sake weep for all ; " 
 And bitterly, as day on day 
 
 Of rebel carnage fast succeeds, 
 She weeps a lover snatched away 
 
 In every Gheber wretch that bleeds. 
 There 's not a sabre meets her eye. 
 
 But with his life-blood seems to swim ; 
 There 's not an arrow wings the sky. 
 
 But fancy turns its point to him. 
 No more she brings with footstep light 
 Al Hassan's falchion for the fight ; 
 And, had he looked with clearer sight, — 
 Had not the mists, that ever rise 
 From a foul spirit, dimmed his eyes, — 
 He would have marked her shuddering frame. 
 When from the field of blood he came, 
 The faltering speech — the look estranged — 
 Voice, step, and life, and beauty changed — 
 He would have marked all this, and known 
 Such change is wrought by Love alone ! 
 
 Ah ! not the Love that should have blessed 
 So young, so innocent a breast ; 
 Not the pure, open, prosperous Love, 
 That, pledged on earth and sealed above,
 
 176 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Grows in the world's approving eyes, 
 
 In friendship's smile and home's caress, 
 Collecting all the heart's sAveet ties 
 
 Into one knot of happiness ! 
 No, Hind A, no, — thy fatal flame 
 Is nursed in silence, sorrow, shame ; — 
 
 A passion, without hope or pleasure, 
 In thy soul's darkness buried deep. 
 
 It lies, like some ill-gotten treasure, — 
 Some idol, without shrine or name. 
 O'er which its pale-eyed votaries keep 
 Unholy watch, while others sleep. 
 
 Seven nights have darkened Oman's sea, 
 
 Since last, beneath the moonlight ray, 
 She saw his light oar rapidly 
 
 Hurry her Gheber's bark away, — 
 And still she goes, at midnight hour, 
 To weep alone in that high bower. 
 And watch, and look along the deep 
 For him whose smiles first made her weep ; 
 But watching, weeping, all was vain. 
 She never saw his bark again. 
 The owlet's solitary cry. 
 The nighthawk, flitting darkly by. 
 
 And oft the hateful carrion bird. 
 Heavily flapping his clogged wing. 
 Which reeked with that day's banqueting - 
 
 Was all she saw, was all she heard.
 
 THE FIKE-WORSHIPPEKS. 177 
 
 'T is the eighth morn — Al Hassan's brow 
 
 Is brightened with unusual joy — 
 What mighty mischief glacis him now, 
 
 Who never smiles but to destroy ? 
 The sparkle upon Herkend's Sea 
 When tossed at midnight furiously,-''^ 
 Tells not of wreck and ruin nigh, 
 More surely than that smiling eye ! 
 " Up, daughter, up — the Kerna's-*^- breath 
 " Has blown a blast would waken death, 
 " And yet thou sleep'st — up, child, and see 
 " This blessed day for Heaven and me, — 
 " A day more rich in Pagan blood 
 " Than ever flashed o'er Oman's flood. 
 " Before another dawn shall shine, 
 " His head — heart — limbs — Avill all be mine ; 
 " This very night his blood shall steep 
 " These hands all over ere I sleep ! " — 
 " His blood ! " she faintly screamed — her mind 
 Still singling one from all mankind. — 
 " Yes — spite of his ravines and towers, 
 " Hafed, my child, this night is ours. 
 '• Thanks to all-conquering treachery, 
 
 " Without whose aid the links accurst, 
 " That bind these impious slaves, would be 
 
 " Too strong for Alla's self to biu-st ! 
 " That rebel fiend, whose blade has spread 
 " My path with piles of Moslem dead, 
 " Whose baffling spells had almost driven 
 " Back from their course the Swords of Heaven, 
 
 12
 
 178 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " This night, with all his band, shall know 
 
 " How deep an Arab's steel can go, 
 
 " Wlien God and Vengeance speed the blow. 
 
 " And — Prophet ! by that holy wreath 
 
 " Thou wor'st on Ohod's field of death,-®^ 
 
 " I swear, for every sob that parts 
 
 " In anguish from these heathen hearts, 
 
 " A gem from Persia's plundered mines 
 
 " Shall glitter on thy Shrine of Shrines. 
 
 " But, ha ! — she sinks — that look so wild — 
 
 " Those livid lips — my child, my child, 
 
 " This life of blood befits not thee, 
 
 " And thou must back to Araby. 
 
 " Ne'er had I risked thy timid sex 
 " In scenes that man himself might dread, 
 " Had I not hoped our every tread 
 
 " Would be on prostrate Persian necks — 
 " Curst race, they oflTer swords instead ! 
 " But cheer thee, maid, — the wind that now 
 " Is blowing o'er thy feverish brow, 
 " To-day shall waft thee from the shore ; 
 " And, ere a drop of this night's gore 
 " Have time to chill in yonder towers, 
 " Thou 'It see thy own sweet Arab bowers ! " 
 
 His bloody boast was all too true ; 
 There lurked one wretch among the few 
 Wliom Hafed's eagle eye could count 
 Around him on that Fiery Mount, — 
 One miscreant, who for gold betrayed
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 179 
 
 The pathway through the valley's shade 
 
 To those high towers, where Freedom stood 
 
 In her last hold of flame and blood. 
 
 Left on the field last dreadful night, 
 
 When, sallying from their Sacred height, 
 
 The Ghebers fought hope's farewell fight, 
 
 He lay — but died not with the brave ; 
 
 That sun, which should have gilt his grave, 
 
 Saw him a traitor and a slave ; — 
 
 And, while the few, who thence returned 
 
 To their high rocky fortress, mourned 
 
 For him among the matchless dead 
 
 They left behind on glory's bed, 
 
 He lived, and, in the face of morn. 
 
 Laughed them and Faith and Heaven to scorn. 
 
 Oh, for a tongue to curse the slave, 
 
 Whose treason, like a deadly blight, 
 Comes o'er the councils of the brave. 
 
 And blasts them in their hour of might ! 
 May Life's unblessed cup for him 
 Be drugged with treacheries to the brim, — 
 With hopes, that but allure to fly ; 
 
 With joys, that vanish while he sips ; 
 Like Dead-Sea fruits, that temjDt the eye. 
 
 But turn to ashes on the lips ! -''■* 
 His country's curse, his children's shame, 
 Outcast of virtue, peace, and fame, 
 May he, at last, with lips of flame 
 On the parched desert thirsting die, —
 
 180 
 
 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 While lakes, that shone in mockery nigh,'-''' 
 Are fading off, untouched, untasted, 
 Like the once glorious hopes he blasted ! 
 And, when from earth his spirit flies, 
 
 Just Prophet, let the damned-one dwell 
 Full in the sight of Paradise, 
 
 Beholding heaven, and feeling hell !
 
 Lalla Rookh had, the night before, been vis- 
 ited by a dream which, in spite of the impending 
 fate of poor Hafed, made her heart more than 
 usually cheerful during the morning, and gave her 
 cheeks all the freshened animation of a flower that 
 the Bid-musk had just passed over.'-*^*^ She fancied 
 that she was sailing on that Eastern Ocean, where 
 the sea-gypsies, who live forever on the water,^^'^ en- 
 joy a perpetual summer in wandering from isle to 
 isle, when she saw a small gilded bark approaching 
 her. It was like one of those boats which the IMal- 
 divian islanders send adrift, at the mercy of winds 
 and waves, loaded with perfumes, flowers, and odor- 
 iferous wood, as an offering to the Spirit whom 
 they call King of the Sea. At first this little bark 
 appeared to be empty, but on coming nearer 
 
 She had proceeded thus far in relating the dream 
 to her Ladies, when Feramorz appeared at the 
 door of the pavilion. In his presence, of course, 
 everything else was forgotten, and the continuance 
 of the story was instantly requested by all. Fresh 
 wood of aloes was set to burn in the cassolets ; — ■ 
 the violet sherbets -*^^ were hastily handed round,
 
 182 
 
 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 and after a short prelude on his kite, in the pathetic 
 measure of Nava,-*^® which is always used to express 
 the lamentations of absent lovers, the Poet thus 
 continued : —
 
 The day is lowering — stilly black 
 Sleeps the gi'im wave, while heaven's rack, 
 Dispersed and wild, 'twixt earth and sky 
 Hangs like a shattered canopy. 
 There 's not a cloud in that bkie plain 
 
 But tells of storm to come or 2:>ast : — 
 Here, flying loosely as the mane 
 
 Of a young war-horse in the blast ; — 
 There, rolled in masses dark and swelling, 
 As proud to be the thunder's dwelling ! 
 ^Yliile some, already burst and riven, 
 Seem melting down the verge of heaven ; 
 As though the infant storm had rent 
 
 The mighty womb that gave him birth 
 And, having swept the firmament. 
 
 Was now in fierce career for earth. 
 On earth 't was yet all calm around, 
 A pulseless silence, dread, profound. 
 More awful than the tempest's sound. 
 The diver steered for Ormus' bowers. 
 And moored his skiff till calmer hours ; 
 The sea-birds, with portentous screech. 
 Flew fast to land ; — upon the beach 
 The pilot oft had paused, with glance
 
 184 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Turned upward to that wild expanse ; — 
 And all was boding, drear, and dark 
 As her own soul, when Hinda's bark 
 Went slowly from the Persian shore. — 
 No music timed her parting oar,^'' 
 Nor friends upon the lessening strand 
 Lingered, to wave the unseen hand. 
 Or speak the farewell, heard no more ; — ■ 
 But lone, vmheeded, from the bay 
 The vessel takes its mournful way. 
 Like some ill-destined bark that steers 
 In silence through the Gate of Tears."^'^^ 
 And where was stern Al Hassan then ? 
 Could not that saintly scourge of men 
 From bloodshed and devotion spare 
 One minute for a farewell there ? 
 No — close within, in changeful fits 
 Of cursing and of prayer, he sits 
 Li savage loneliness, to brood 
 Upon the coming night of blood, — 
 
 With that keen, second-scent of death, 
 By which the vulture snuffs his food 
 
 In the still warm and living breath ! ""'^ 
 While o'er the wave his weeping daughter 
 Is wafted from these scenes of slaughter, - 
 As a young bird of Babylon,'-''^ 
 Let loose to tell of victory won, 
 Flies home, with wing, ah ! not unstained 
 Bv the red hands that held her chained.
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 185 
 
 And does the long-left home she seeks 
 
 Light up no gladness on her cheeks ? 
 
 The flowers she nursed — the well-known groves, 
 
 Where oft in dreams her spirit roves — 
 
 Once more to see her dear gazelles 
 
 Come bounding with their silver bells ; 
 
 Her birds' new plumage to behold, 
 
 And tlie gay, gleaming fishes count, 
 She left, all fiilleted with gold. 
 
 Shooting around their jasper fount ; ^* 
 Her little garden mosque to see. 
 
 And once again, at evening hour. 
 To tell her ruby rosary -"^ 
 
 In her own sweet acacia bower. — 
 Can these delights, that wait her now, 
 Call up no sunshine on her brow ? 
 No, — silent, from her train apart, — 
 As if e'en now she felt at heart 
 The chill of her approaching doom, — 
 She sits, all lovely in her gloom 
 As a pale Angel of the Grave ; 
 And o'er the wide, tempestuous wave, 
 Looks, with a shudder, to those towers, 
 Where, in a few short awful hours, 
 Blood, blood, in streaming tides shall run. 
 Foul incense for to-morrow's sun ! 
 " Where art thou, glorious stranger ! thou, 
 " So loved, so lost, where art thou now ? 
 " Foe — Gheber — infidel — whate'er 
 " Th' unhallowed name thou 'rt doomed to bear,
 
 186 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " Still glorious — still to this fond heart 
 
 " Dear as its blood, whate'er thou art ! 
 
 " Yes — Alla, dreadful Alla ! yes — 
 
 " If there be wrong, be crime in this, 
 
 " Let the black waves that round us roll, 
 
 " Wlielm me this instant, ere my soul, 
 
 " Forgetting faith — home — father — all — 
 
 " Before its earthly idol fall, 
 
 " Nor worship e'en Thyself above him — 
 
 " For, oh, so wildly do I love him, 
 
 " Thy Paradise itself were dim 
 
 " And joyless, if not shared with him ! " 
 
 Her hands were clasped — her eyes upturned, 
 
 Dropping their tears like moonlight rain ; 
 And, though her lip, fond raver ! burned 
 
 With words of passion, bold, profane, 
 Yet was there light around her brow, 
 
 A holiness in those dark eyes, 
 Which showed, though wand'ring earthward now, 
 
 Her spirit's home was in the skies. 
 Yes — for a spirit pure as hers 
 Is always pure, e'en while it errs ; 
 As sunshine, broken in the rill. 
 Though turned astray, is sunshine still ! 
 
 So wholly had her mind forgot 
 All thoughts but one, she heeded not 
 The rising storm — the wave that cast 
 A moment's midnight, as it passed —
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 187 
 
 Nor heard the frequent shout, the tread 
 
 Of gathering tumult o'er her head — 
 
 Clashed swords, and tongues that seemed to vie 
 
 With the rude riot of the sky. 
 
 But, hark ! — that war-whoop on the deck — 
 
 That crash, as if each engine there, 
 Mast, sails, and all, were gone to wreck, 
 
 Mid yells and stampings of despair ! 
 Merciful Heaven ! what can it be ? 
 'T is not the storm, though fearfully 
 The ship has shuddered as she rode 
 O'er mountain-waves — " Forgive me, God ! 
 " Forgive me " — shrieked the maid, and knelt, 
 Trembling all over — for she felt 
 As if her judgment-hour was near ; 
 While crouching round, half dead with fear, 
 Her handmaids clung, nor breathed, nor stirred — 
 When, hark ! — a second crash — a third — 
 And now, as if a bolt of thunder 
 Had riven the laboring planks asunder. 
 The deck falls in — what horrors then ! 
 Blood, waves, and tackle, swords and men 
 Come mixed together through the chasm, — 
 Some wretches in their dying spasm 
 Still fighting on — and some that call 
 " For God and Iran ! " as they fall ! 
 
 Whose was the hand that turned away 
 The perils of th' infuriate fray, 
 And snatched her breathless from beneath
 
 188 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 This wilderment of wreck and death ? 
 She knew not — for a faintness came 
 Chill o'er her, and her sinking frame 
 Amid the ruins of that hour 
 Lay, like a pale and scorched flower. 
 Beneath the red volcano's shower. 
 But, oh ! the sights and sounds of dread 
 That shocked her ere her senses fled ! 
 The yawning deck — the crowd that strove 
 Upon the tottering planks ahove — 
 The sail, whose fragments, shivering o'er 
 The strugglers' heads, all dashed with gore, 
 Fluttered like bloody flags — the clash 
 Of sabres, and the lightning's flash 
 Upon their blades, high tossed about 
 Like meteor brands -"'^ as if throughout 
 
 The elements one fury ran, 
 One general rage, that left a doubt 
 
 AVhich was the fiercer, Heaven or Man ! 
 
 Once too — but no — it could not be — 
 
 'T was fancy all — yet once she thought, 
 While yet her fading eyes could see. 
 
 High on the ruined deck she cauoht 
 A glimpse of that unearthly form, 
 
 That glory of her soul, — e'en then, 
 Amid the whirl of wreck and storm. 
 
 Shining above his fellow -men. 
 As, on some black and troublous night. 
 The star of EoYrT,-'^' whose proud light
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 189 
 
 Never liath beamed on those who rest 
 
 In the White Islands of the West,^^^ 
 
 Burns through the storm with looks of flame 
 
 That iDut heaven's cloudier eyes to shame. 
 
 But no — 't was but the minute's dream — 
 
 A fantasy — and ere the scream 
 
 Had half-way passed her pallid lips, 
 
 A deathlike swoon, a chill eclipse 
 
 Of soul and sense its darkness spread 
 
 Around her, and she sunk, as dead. 
 
 How calm, how beautiful comes on 
 The stilly hour, when storms are gone ; 
 When warring winds have died away. 
 And clouds, beneath the glancing ray, 
 Melt off, and leave the land and sea 
 Sleeping in bright tranquillity, — 
 Fresh as if Day again were born, 
 Again upon the lap of Morn ! — 
 When the light blossoms, rudely torn 
 And scattered at the whirlwind's will, 
 Hang floating in the pure air still, 
 Filling it all with precious balm. 
 In gratitude for this sweet calm ; — 
 And every drop the thunder-showers 
 Have left upon the grass and flowers 
 Sparkles, as 't were that lightning-gem -'^ 
 Whose liquid flame is born of them ! 
 When, 'stead of one unchanging breeze, 
 There blow a thousand gentle airs.
 
 190 LALLA EOOKH. 
 
 And each a different perfume bears, — 
 As if the loveliest plants and trees 
 Had vassal breezes of their own 
 To watch and wait on them alone, 
 And waft no other breath than theirs : 
 When the blue waters rise and fall, 
 In sleepy sunshine mantling all ; 
 And e'en that swell the tempest leaves 
 Is like the full and silent heaves 
 Of lovers' hearts, when newly blest. 
 Too newly to be quite at rest. 
 
 Such was the golden hour that broke 
 
 Upon the world, when Hinda woke 
 
 From her long trance, and heard around 
 
 No motion but the water's sound 
 
 Eippling against the vessel's side. 
 
 As slow it mounted o'er the tide. — 
 
 But where is she ? — her eyes are dark. 
 
 Are wildered still — is this the bark, 
 
 The same, that from Harmozia's bay 
 
 Bore her at morn — whose bloody way 
 
 The sea-dog tracked ? — No — strange and new 
 
 Is all that meets her wondering view. 
 
 Upon a galliot's deck she lies, 
 
 Beneath no rich pavilion's shade, — 
 No plumes to fan her sleeping eyes, 
 
 Nor jasmine on her pillow laid. 
 But the rude litter, roughly spread 
 "With war-cloaks, is her homely bed.
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 191 
 
 And shawl and sash, on javelins hung, 
 For awning o'er her head are flung. 
 Shuddering she looked around — there lay 
 
 A group of warriors in the sun. 
 Resting their limbs, as for that day 
 
 Their ministry of death were done. 
 Some gazing on the drowsy sea. 
 Lost in unconscious reverie ; 
 And some, who seemed but ill to brook 
 That sluggish calm, with many a look 
 To the slack sail impatient cast. 
 As loose it flagged around the mast. 
 
 Blest Alla ! who shall save her now ? 
 
 There 's not in all that warrior band 
 One Arab sword, one turbaned brow 
 
 From her own Faithful Moslem land. 
 Their garb — the leathern belt -^° that wraps 
 
 Each yellow vest -^^ — that rebel hue ■ — 
 The Tartar fleece upon their caps — ^^- 
 
 Yes — yes — her fears are all too true, 
 And Heaven hath, in this dreadful hour. 
 Abandoned her to Hafed's power ; — 
 Hafed, the Gheber ! — at the thought 
 
 Her very heart's blood chills within ; 
 He, whom her soul was hoiu-ly taught 
 
 To loathe, as some foul fiend of sin, 
 Some minister, whom Hell had sent 
 To spread its blast, where'er he went, 
 And fling, as o'er our earth he trod.
 
 192 LALLA EOOKFI. 
 
 His shadow betwixt man and God ! 
 And she is now his captive, — thrown 
 In his fierce hands, alive, alone ; 
 His the infuriate band she sees, 
 All infidels — all enemies ! 
 What was the daring hope that then 
 Crossed her like lightning, as again, 
 With boldness that despair had lent. 
 
 She darted through that armed crowd 
 A look so searching, so intent. 
 
 That even the sternest warrior bowed 
 Abashed, when he her glances caught. 
 As if he guessed whose form they sought. 
 But no — she sees him not — 't is gone, 
 The vision that before her shone 
 Through all the maze of blood and storm, 
 Is fled — 't was but a phantom form — 
 One of those passing, rainbow dreams. 
 Half light, half shade, Avhich Fancy's beams 
 Paint on the fleeting mists that roll 
 In trance or slumber round the soul. 
 
 But now the bark, with livelier bound. 
 
 Scales the blue wave — the crew 's in motion, 
 
 The oars are out, and with light sound 
 Break the bright mirror of the ocean. 
 
 Scattering its brilliant fragments round. 
 
 And now she sees — with horror sees, — 
 
 Their course is tow'rd that mountain-hold, — 
 
 Those towers, that make her life-blood freeze.
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 1^3 
 
 Wliere Mecca's godless enemies 
 
 Lie like beleaguered scorpions, rolled 
 In their last deadly, venomous fold ! 
 
 Amid th' illumined land and flood 
 
 Sunless that mighty mountain stood ; 
 
 Save where, above its awful head, 
 
 There shone a flaming cloud, blood-red, 
 
 As 't were the flag of destiny 
 
 Hung out to mark where death would be ! 
 
 Had her bewildered mind the joower 
 Of thought in this terrific hour, 
 She well might marvel where or how 
 JNIan's foot could scale that mountain's brow. 
 Since ne'er had Arab heard or known 
 Of path but through the glen alone. 
 But every thought was lost in fear, 
 When, as their bounding bark drew near 
 The craggy base, she felt the waves 
 Hurry them toward those dismal caves, 
 That from the Deep in windings pass 
 Beneath that Mount's volcanic mass ;. — 
 And loud a voice on deck commands 
 To lower the mast and liglit the brands ! — 
 Instantly o'er the dashing tide 
 Within a cavern's mouth they glide. 
 Gloomy as that eternal Porch 
 
 Through which departed spirits go : — 
 Not e'en the flare of brand and torch 
 
 Its flickering light could further throw 
 13
 
 194 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Than the thick flood that boiled below. 
 Silent they floated — as if each 
 Sat breathless, and too awed for speech 
 In that dark chasm, where even sound 
 Seemed dark, — so sullenly around 
 The goblin echoes of the cave 
 Muttered it o'er the long black wave, 
 As 't were some secret of the grave ! 
 
 But soft — they pause — the current turns 
 Beneath them from its onward track ; — 
 Some mighty, unseen barrier spurns 
 The vexed tide, all foaming, back, 
 And scarce the oars' redoubled force 
 Can stem the eddy's whirling force ; 
 When, hark ! — some desperate foot has sprung 
 Among the rocks — the chain is flimg — 
 The oars are up — the grapjile clings, 
 And the tossed bark in moorings swings. 
 Just then a daybeam through the shade 
 Broke tremulous — but, ere the maid 
 Can see from whence the brightness steals, 
 Upon her brow she shuddering feels 
 A viewless hand, that promptly ties 
 A bandage round her burning eyes ; 
 While the rude litter where she lies, 
 Uplifted by the warrior throng, 
 O'er the steej:) rocks is borne along. 
 
 Blest power of sunshine ! — genial Day,
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 195 
 
 What balm, what life is in thy ray ! 
 To feel thee is such real bliss, 
 That had the world no joy but this, 
 To sit in sunshine calm and sweet, — 
 It were a world too exquisite 
 For man to leave it for the gloom. 
 The deep, cold shadoAv of the tomb. 
 E'en HiNDA, though she saw not where 
 
 Or whither wound the perilous road, 
 Yet knew by that awakening air, 
 
 T\niich suddenly around her glowed, 
 That they had risen from darkness then. 
 And breathed the sunny world again ! 
 
 But soon this balmy freshness fled — 
 
 For now the steepy labyrinth led 
 
 Through damj) and gloom — 'mid crash of boughs, 
 
 And fall of loosened crags that rouse 
 
 The leopard from his hungry sleeji. 
 
 Who, starting, thinks each crag a prey. 
 And long is heard, from steep to steep, 
 
 Chasing them down their thundering way ! 
 The jackal's cry — the distant moan 
 Of the hyena, fierce and lone — 
 And that eternal saddening sound 
 
 Of torrents in the glen beneath. 
 As 't were the ever-dark Profound 
 
 That rolls beneath the Bridge of Death ! 
 All, all is fearful — e'en to see. 
 
 To gaze on those terrific things
 
 196 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 She now but blindly hears, would be 
 
 Relief to her imaginings ; 
 Since never yet was shape so dread, 
 
 But Fancy, thus in darkness thrown. 
 And by such sounds of horror fed, 
 
 Could frame more dreadful of her own. 
 
 But does she dream ? has Fear again 
 Perplexed the workings of her brain, 
 Or did a voice, all music, then 
 Come from the gloom, low whispering near, - 
 " Tremble not, love, thy Gheber 's here ? " 
 She does not dream — all sense, all ear. 
 She drinks the words, " Thy Gheber 's here." 
 'T was his own voice — she could not err — 
 
 Throuohout the breathing world's extent 
 There was but one such voice for her, 
 
 So kind, so soft, so eloquent ! 
 Oh, sooner shall the rose of IMay 
 
 Mistake her own sweet nightingale, 
 And to some meaner minstrel's lay 
 
 Open her bosom's glowing veil,-^'^ 
 Than Love shall ever doubt a tone, 
 A breath of the beloved one ! 
 
 Though blest, 'mid all her ills, to think 
 She has that one beloved near, 
 
 Wliose smile, though met on ruin's brink, 
 Hath power to make e'en ruin dear, — 
 
 Yet soon this gleam of raptm-e, crost
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 107 
 
 By fears for him, is chilled and lost. 
 How shall the ruthless H.\jrED brook 
 That one of Gheber blood should look, 
 With aught but curses in his eye, 
 On her — a maid of Araby — 
 A Moslem maid — the child of him, 
 
 Whose bloody banner's dire success 
 Hath left their altars cold and dim, 
 
 And their fair land a wilderness ! 
 And, worse than all, that night of blood 
 
 Which comes so fast — Oh ! who shall stay 
 The sword, that once hath tasted food 
 
 Of Persian hearts, or turn its way ? 
 What arm shall then the victim cover, 
 Or from her father shield her lover ? 
 
 " Save him, my God ! " she inly cries — 
 " Save him this night — and if thine eyes 
 
 " Have ever welcomed with delight 
 " The sinner's tears, the sacrifice 
 
 " Of sinner's hearts — guard him this night, 
 " And here, before thy throne, I swear 
 " From my heart's inmost core to tear 
 
 " Love, hope, remembrance, though they be 
 " Linked with each quivering life-string there, 
 
 " And give it bleeding all to Thee ! 
 " Let him but live, — the burning tear, 
 " The sighs, so sinful, yet so dear, 
 " "Wliich have been all too much his own, 
 '' Shall from this hour be Heaven's alone.
 
 198 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 " Youth passed in penitence, and age 
 
 " In long and painful pilgrimage, 
 
 " Shall leave no traces of the flame 
 
 " That wastes me now — nor shall his name 
 
 " E'er bless my lips, but when I pray 
 
 " For his dear spirit, that away 
 
 " Casting from its angelic ray 
 
 " Th' eclipse of earth, he, too, may shine 
 
 " Redeemed, all glorious and all Thine ! 
 
 " Think — think what victory to win 
 
 " One radiant sovU like his from sin, — 
 
 " One wandering star of virtue back 
 
 " To its own native, heavenward track ! 
 
 " Let him but live, and both are Thine, 
 
 " Together thine — for, blest or crost, 
 " Living or dead, his doom is mine, 
 
 " And, if he perish, both are lost ! "
 
 The next evening Lalla Rookh was entreated 
 by her Ladies to continue the relation of lier won- 
 derful dream ; but the fearful interest that hung 
 round the fate of Hinda and her lover had com- 
 pletely removed every trace of it from her mind ; 
 — much to the disappointment of a fair seer or two 
 in her train, who prided themselves on their skill in 
 interpreting visions, and who had already remarked, 
 as an unlucky omen, that the Princess, on the very 
 morning after the dream, had worn a silk dyed with 
 the blossoms of the sorrowful tree, Nilica.^^* 
 
 Fadladeen, whose indignation had more than 
 once broken out during the recital of some parts of 
 this heterodox poem, seemed at lengtli to have made 
 up his mind to the infliction ; and took his seat this 
 evening with all the patience of a martyr, while the 
 Poet resumed his profane and seditious story as fol- 
 lows : —
 
 To tearless eyes and hearts at ease 
 The leafy shores and snn-bright seas, 
 That lay beneath that mountain's height, 
 Had been a fair enchanting sight. 
 'T was one of those ambrosial eves 
 A day of storm so often leaves 
 At its calm setting — when the West " 
 Opens her golden bowers of rest, 
 And a moist radiance from the skies 
 Shoots trembling down, as from the eyes 
 Of some meek penitent, whose last 
 Bright hours atone for darlv ones past, 
 And whose sweet tears, o'er wrong forgiven, 
 Shine, as they fall, with light from Heaven ! 
 
 'T was stillness all — the winds that late 
 
 Had rushed through Kejkman's almond groves. 
 And shaken from her bowers of date 
 
 That cooling feast the traveller loves,"^^ 
 Now, lulled to languor, scarcely curl 
 
 The Green Sea wave, whose Avaters gleam 
 Limpid, as if her mines of pearl 
 
 Were melted all to form the stream : 
 And her fair islets, small and bright,
 
 THE FIKE-WORSHIPPERS. 201 
 
 "With their green shores reflected there, 
 Look like those Peri isles of light, 
 That hang by siDell-work in the air. 
 
 But vainly did those glories burst 
 On Hinda's dazzled eyes, when first 
 The bandage from her brow was taken, 
 And, pale and awed as those who waken 
 In their dark tombs — when, scowling near, 
 The Searchers of the Grave ^*® appear, — 
 She shuddering turned to read her fate 
 
 In the fierce eyes that flashed aroimd ; 
 And saw those towers all desolate, 
 
 That o'er her head terrific frowned. 
 As if defying e'en the smile 
 Of that soft heaven to gild their pile. 
 In vain with mingled hope and fear, 
 She looks for him whose voice so dear 
 Had come like music to her ear — 
 Strange, mocking dream ! again 't is fled. 
 And oh, the shoots, the pangs of dread 
 That through her inmost bosom run, 
 
 When voices from without proclaim 
 " Hafed, the Chief" — and, one by one, 
 
 The warriors shout that fearful name ! 
 He comes — the rock resounds his tread — 
 How shall she dare to lift her head, 
 Or meet those eyes whose scorching glare 
 Not Yemen's boldest sons can bear? 
 In whose red beam, the Moslem tells,
 
 202 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Such rank and deadly lustre dwells. 
 
 As in those hellish fires that light 
 
 The mandrake's charnel leaves at night.^^'' 
 
 How shall she bear that voice's tone, 
 
 At whose loud battle-cry alone 
 
 Whole squadrons oft in panic ran, 
 
 Scattered like some vast caravan, 
 
 When, stretched at evening round the well. 
 
 They hear the thirsting tiger's yell ! 
 
 Breathless she stands, with eyes cast down, 
 
 Shrinking beneath the fiery frown, 
 
 Which, fancy tells her, from that brow 
 
 Is flashing o'er her fiercely now : 
 
 And shuddering as she hears the tread 
 
 Of his retiring warrior band. 
 Never was pause so full of dread ; 
 
 Till Hafed with a trembling hand 
 Took hers, and, leaning o'er her, said, 
 " HiNDA ; " — that word was all he spoke. 
 And 't was enough — the shriek that broke 
 
 From her full bosom, told the I'est. 
 Panting with terror, joy, surprise, 
 The maid but lifts her wondering eyes. 
 
 To hide them on her Gheber's breast ! 
 'T is he, 't is he — the man of blood, 
 The fellest of the Fire-fiend's brood, 
 Hafed, the demon of the fight, 
 Whose voice unnerves, whose glances blight. 
 Is her own loved Gheber, mild 
 And glorious as when fiist he smiled
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 203 
 
 In her lone tower, and left such beams 
 Of his pure eye to light her dreams, 
 That she believed her bower had given 
 Rest to some wanderer from heaven ! 
 
 Moments there are, and this was one, 
 Snatched like a minute's gleam of sun 
 Amid the black Simoom's eclipse — 
 
 Or, like those verdant spots that bloom 
 Around the crater's burning lips. 
 
 Sweetening the very edge of doom ! 
 The past — the future — all that Fate 
 Can bring of dark or desperate 
 Around such hours, but makes them cast 
 Intenser radiance while they last ! 
 
 E'en he, this youth — though dimmed and gone 
 
 Each star of Hoije that cheered him on — 
 
 His glories lost — his cause betrayed — 
 
 Iran, his dear-loved country, made 
 
 A land of carcasses and slaves. 
 
 One dreary waste of chains and graves ! — 
 
 Himself but lingering, dead at heart. 
 
 To see the last, long struggling breath 
 Of Liberty's great soul depart. 
 
 Then lay him down and share her death — 
 E'en he, so sunk in wretchedness. 
 
 With doom still darker gathering o'er him, 
 Yet, in this moment's pure caress. 
 
 In the mild eyes that shone before him,
 
 204 LALLA EOOKH. 
 
 Beaming that blest assurance, worth 
 All other transports known on earth, 
 That he was loved — well, warmly loved — 
 Oh ! in this precious hour he proved 
 How deep, how thorough-felt the glow 
 Of rapture, kindling out of woe ; — 
 How exquisite one single drop 
 Of bliss, thus sparkling to the top 
 Of misery's cup — how keenly quaffed. 
 Though death must follow on the draught ! 
 
 She, too, while gazing on those eyes 
 
 That sink into her soul so deep, 
 Forgets all fears, all miseries. 
 
 Or feels them like the wretch in sleep, 
 Whom fancy cheats into a smile, 
 Who dreams of joy, and sobs the while ! 
 The mighty Ruins where they stood, 
 
 Upon the mount's high, rocky verge, 
 Lay open towards the ocean flood, 
 
 AYliere lightly o'er the illumined surge 
 Many a fair bark that, all the day. 
 Had lurked in sheltering creek or bay 
 Now bounded on, and gave their sails, 
 Yet dripping, to the evening gales ; 
 Like eagles, when the storm is done. 
 Spreading their wet wings in the sun. 
 The beauteous clouds, though daylight's Star 
 Had sunk behinci the hills of Lar, 
 Were still with lingering glories bright, —
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 20;^ 
 
 As if, to grace the gorgeous West, 
 
 The Spirit of departing Light 
 That eve had left his sunny vest 
 
 Behind him, ere he winged his flight, • 
 Never was scene so formed for love ! 
 Beneath them waves of crystal move 
 In silent swell — heaven gloAvs above, 
 And their pure hearts, to transport given, 
 Swell like the wave, and glow like heaven. 
 
 But ah ! too soon that dream is jDast — 
 
 Again, again her fear returns ; — 
 Night, dreadful night, is gathering fast, 
 
 More faintly the horizon burns. 
 And every rosy tint that lay 
 On the smooth sea hath died away. 
 Hastily to the darkening skies 
 A glance she casts — then wildly cries : — 
 " At night, he said — and, look, 't is near — 
 
 " Fly, fly — if yet thou lov'st me, fly — 
 " Soon will his murderous band be here, 
 
 " And I shall see thee bleed and die. 
 " Hush ! heard'st thou not the tramp of men 
 " Soimding from yonder fearful glen ? — 
 " Perhaps e'en now they climb the wood — 
 
 " Fly, fly — though still the West is bright, 
 " He '11 come — oh ! yes — he wants thy blood — 
 
 " I know him — he '11 not wait for night ! " 
 
 In terrors e'en to agony
 
 206 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 She clings around the wondering Chief: — 
 " Alas, poor wildered maid ! to me 
 
 " Thou ow'st this raving trance of grief 
 " Lost as I am, naught ever grew 
 " Beneath my shade but perished too — 
 " My doom is like the Dead Sea air, 
 " And nothing lives that enters there ! 
 " Why were our barks together driven 
 " Beneath this morning's furious heaven ? 
 " \Yhy, when I saw the prize that chance 
 
 " Had thrown into my desperate arms, — 
 " When, casting but a single glance 
 
 " Upon thy pale and prostrate charms, 
 " I vowed (though watching viewless o'er 
 
 " Thy safety through that hour's alarms) 
 " To meet th' unmanning sight no more — 
 " Why have I broke that heart-wrung vow ? 
 " Wliy weakly, madly met thee now ? — 
 " Start not — that noise is but the shock 
 
 " Of torrents through yon valley hurled — 
 " Dread nothing here — upon this rock 
 
 " We stand above the jarring world, 
 " Alike beyond its hope — its dread — 
 " In gloomy safety, like the Dead ! 
 " Or, could e'en earth and hell unite 
 " In league to storm this Sacred Height, 
 " Fear nothing thou — myself, to-night, 
 " And each o'erlooking star that dwells 
 " Near God will be thy sentinels ; — 
 " And, ere to-morrow's dawn shall glow,
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 2 
 
 " Back to thy sire " 
 
 " To-morrow ! — no " 
 The maiden screamed — " thou 'It never see 
 " To-morrow's sun — death, death will be 
 " The night-cry through each reeking tower, 
 " Unless we fly, ay, fly this hour ! 
 " Thou art betrayed — some wretch who knew 
 " That dreadful glen's mysterious clew — 
 " Nay, doubt not — by yon stars, 't is true — 
 " Hath sold thee to my vengeful sire ; 
 " This morning, with that smile so dire 
 " He wears in joy, he told me all, 
 " And stamped in triumph through our hall, 
 " As though thy heart already beat 
 " Its last life-throb beneath his feet ! 
 " Good Heaven, how little dreamed I then 
 
 " His victim was my own loved youth ! — 
 " Fly — send — let some one watch the glen — 
 
 " By all my hopes of heaven 't is truth ! " 
 
 Oh ! colder than the wind that freezes 
 
 Founts, that but now in simshine played, 
 Is that congealing pang which seizes 
 
 The trusting bosom, when betrayed. 
 He felt it — deeply felt — and stood, 
 As if the tale had frozen his blood, 
 
 So mazed and motionless was he ; — 
 Like one whom sudden spells enchant, 
 Or some mute, marble habitant 
 
 Of the still Halls of Ishmonie ! ^ss
 
 208 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 But soon the jDainful chill was o'er, 
 And his great soul, herself once more, 
 Looked from his brow in all the rays 
 Of her best, happiest, grandest days. 
 Never in moment most elate. 
 
 Did that high spirit loftier rise ; — 
 Wliile bright, serene, determinate, 
 
 His looks are lifted to the skies. 
 As if the signal lights of Fate 
 
 Were shining in those awful eyes ! 
 'T is come — his hour of martyrdom 
 In Iran's sacred cause is come ; 
 And, though his life hath passed away 
 Like lightning on a stormy day, 
 Yet shall his death-hour leave a track 
 
 Of glory, permanent and bright. 
 To which the brave of after-times, 
 The suffering brave shall long look back 
 
 With proud regret, — and by its light 
 
 Watch through the hours of slavery's night 
 For vengeance on th' oppressor's crimes. 
 This rock, his monument aloft. 
 
 Shall sjieak the tale to many an age ; 
 And hither bards and heroes oft 
 
 Shall come in secret pilgrimage, 
 And bring their warrior sons, and tell 
 The Avondering boys where Hafed fell ; 
 And swear them on those lone remains 
 Of their lost country's ancient fanes. 
 Never — while breath of life shall live
 
 THE FIKE-WORSHIPPEKS. 209 
 
 Within them — never to forgive 
 Th' accursed race, whose ruthless chain 
 Hath left on Iran's neck a stain 
 Blood, blood alone can cleanse again ! 
 
 Such are the swelling thoughts that now 
 Enthrone themselves on Hafed's brow ; 
 And ne'er did saint of IssA-^^ gaze 
 
 On the red wreath, for martyrs twined, 
 More proudly than the youth surveys 
 
 That pile, which through the gloom behind, 
 Half lighted by the altar's fire, 
 Glimmers — his destined funeral pyre ! 
 Heaped by his own, his comrades' hands. 
 
 Of every wood of odorous breath, 
 There, by the Fire-God's shrine it stands. 
 
 Ready to fold in radiant death 
 The few still left of those who swore 
 To perish there, when hope was o'er — 
 The few, to whom that couch of flame. 
 Which rescues them from bonds and shame, 
 Is sweet and welcome as the bed 
 For their own infant Prophet spread, 
 Wlien pitying Heaven to roses turned 
 The death-flames that beneath him burned ! ^^ 
 
 AVith watchfulness the maid attends 
 His rapid glance, where'er it bends — 
 Why shoot his eyes such awful beams ? 
 "WTiat plans he now ? what thinks or dreams ? 
 14
 
 210 LALLA ROOKEI. 
 
 Alas ! why stands he musing here, 
 Wlien every moment teems with fear ? 
 " Hafed, my own beloved Lord," 
 She kneeling cries — " first, last adored ! 
 " If in that sonl thon 'st ever felt 
 
 " Half what thy lips impassioned swore, 
 " Here on my knees that never knelt 
 
 " To any but their God before, 
 " I pray thee, as thou lov'st me, fly — 
 " Now, now — ere yet their blades are nigh. 
 " Oh, haste — the bark that bore me hither 
 
 " Can waft us o'er yon darkening sea 
 " East — west — alas, I care not whither, 
 
 " So thou art safe, and I with thee ! 
 " Go where we will, this hand in thine, 
 
 " Those eyes before me smiling thus, 
 " Through good and ill, through storm and shine, 
 
 " The world's a world of love for us ! 
 " On some calm, blesse'd shore we '11 dwell, 
 " Where 't is no crime to love too well ; — 
 " Wliere thus to worship tenderly 
 " An erring child of light like thee 
 " Will not be sin — or, if it be, 
 " Wliere we may weep our faults away, 
 " Together kneeling, night and day ; 
 " Thou, for my sake, at Alt.a's shrine, 
 " And I — at any God's, for thine ! " 
 
 Wildly these passionate words she spoke — 
 Then hung her head, and wept for shame ;
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 211 
 
 Sobbing, as if a heart-string broke 
 
 With every deep-heaved sob that came. 
 While he, young, warm — oh ! wonder not 
 If, for a moment, pride and fame. 
 His oath — his cause — that shrine of flame, 
 And Iran's self are all forgot 
 For her whom at his feet he sees 
 Kneeling in speechless agonies. 
 No, blame him not, if Hope awhile 
 Dawned in his soul, and threw her smile 
 O'er hours to come — o'er days and nights, 
 Winged with those precious, pure delights 
 Which she, who bends all beauteous there, 
 Was born to kindle and to share. 
 A tear or two, which, as he bowed 
 
 To raise the suppliant, trembling stole, 
 First warned him of this dangerous cloud 
 
 Of softness passing o'er his soul. 
 Starting, he brushed the drops away. 
 Unworthy o'er that cheek to stray ; — 
 Like one who, on the morn of fight, 
 Shakes from his sword the dews of night, 
 That had but dimmed, not stained its light. 
 Yet, though subdued th' unnerving thrill, 
 Its warmth, its weakness lingered still 
 So touching in each look and tone, 
 That the fond, fearing, hoping maid 
 Half counted on the flight she prayed. 
 Half thought the hero's soul was grown 
 As soft, as yielding as her own.
 
 A 
 
 212 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 And smiled and blessed him, while he said, ■ 
 " Yes — if there be some happier sphere, 
 " Where fadeless truth like onrs is dear, — 
 " If there be any land of rest 
 
 " For those who love and ne'er forget, 
 " Oh ! comfort thee — for safe and blest 
 
 " We '11 meet in that calm region yet ! " 
 
 Scarce had she time to ask her heart 
 If good or ill these words impart, 
 When the roused youth impatient flew 
 To the tower-wall, where, high in view, 
 A ponderous sea-horn'-^^ hung, and blew 
 A signal, deep and dread as those 
 The storm-fiend at his rising blows. 
 Full well his Chieftains, sworn and true 
 Through life and death, that signal knew ; 
 For 't was th' appointed warning-blast, 
 Th' alarm, to tell when hope was past, 
 And the tremendous death-die cast ! 
 And there, upon the mouldering tower, 
 Hath hung this sea-horn many an hour, 
 Ready to sound o'er land and sea 
 That dirge-note of the brave and free. 
 They came — his Chieftains at the call 
 Came slowly round, and with them all — 
 Alas, how few ! — the worn remains 
 Of those who late o'er Kerman's plains 
 Went gayly prancing to the clash 
 Of Moorish zel and tvmbalon,
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 213 
 
 Catching new hope from every flash 
 
 Of their long lances in the sun, 
 And, as their coursers charged the wind, 
 And the white ox-tails streamed behind,^^ 
 Looking as if the steeds they rode 
 Were winged, and every Chief a God ! 
 How fallen, how altered now ! how wan 
 Each scarred and faded visage shone. 
 As round the burning shrine they came ! — 
 
 How deadly was the glare it cast, 
 As mute they paused before the flame 
 
 To light their torches as they passed ! 
 ' T was silence all — the youth hath planned 
 The duties of his soldier-band ; 
 And each determined brow declares 
 His faithful Chieftains well know theirs. 
 
 But minutes sj^eed — night gems the skies — 
 And oh, how soon, ye blessed eyes. 
 That look from heaven, ye may behold 
 Sights that will turn your star-flres cold ! 
 Breathless with awe, impatience, hope. 
 The maiden sees the veteran group 
 Her litter silently prepare, 
 
 And lay it at her trembling feet ; — 
 And now the youth, Avith gentle care, 
 
 Hath placed her in the sheltered seat, 
 And pressed her hand — that lingering press 
 
 Of hands, that for the last time sever ; 
 Of hearts, whose pulse of happiness.
 
 214 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 When that hold breaks, is dead forever. 
 And yet to her this sad caress 
 
 Gives hope — so fondly hope can err ! 
 ' T was joy, she thought, joy's mute excess — 
 
 Their happy flight's dear harbinger ; 
 'T was warmth — assurance — tenderness — 
 
 ' T was anything but leaving her. 
 
 " Haste, haste ! " she cried, " the clouds grow 
 
 dark, 
 " But still, ei-e night, we' 11 reach the bark ; 
 " And by to-morrow's dawn — oh, bliss ! 
 
 " With thee upon the sun-bright deep, 
 " Far off, I '11 but remember this, 
 
 " As some dark vanished dream of sleep ; 
 " And thou " but ah ! — he answers not — 
 
 Good Heaven ! — and does she go alone ? 
 She now has reached that dismal spot, 
 
 Where, some hours since, his voice's tone 
 Had come to soothe her fears and ills, 
 Sweet as the angel Israfil's,^^ 
 When every leaf on Eden's tree 
 Is trembling to his minstrelsy — 
 Yet now — oh, now, he is not nigh. 
 
 " Hafed ! my Hafed ! — if it be 
 " Thy will, thy doom this night to die, 
 
 " Let me but stay to die with thee, 
 " And I will bless thy loved name, 
 " Till the last life-breath leave this frame. 
 " Oh ! let our lips, our cheeks be laid
 
 THE FIRB-WORSHIPPERS. 215 
 
 " But near each other wliile they fade ; 
 " Let us but mix our parting breaths, 
 " And I can die ten thousand deaths ! 
 " You too, who hurry me away 
 " So cruelly, one moment stay — 
 
 '' Oh ! stay — one moment is not much — 
 " He yet may come — for him I pray — 
 " Hafkd ! dear Hafed ! " — all the way 
 
 In wild lamentings, that would touch 
 A heart of stone, she shrieked his name 
 To the dark woods — no Hafed came : — 
 No — hapless pair — you 've looked your last : — 
 
 Your hearts should both have broken then : 
 The dream is o'er — your doom is cast — 
 
 You '11 never meet on earth again ! 
 
 Alas for him, who hears her cries ! 
 
 Still half-way down the steep he stands, 
 Watching with fixed and feverish eyes 
 
 The glinuner of those burning brands. 
 That down the rocks, with mournful ray, 
 Light all he loves on earth away ! 
 Hopeless as they who, far at sea. 
 
 By the cold moon have just consigned 
 The corse of one, loved tenderly, 
 
 To the bleak flood they leave behind ; 
 And on the deck still lingering stay. 
 And long look back, with sad delay, 
 To watch the moonlight on the wave, 
 That ripples o'er that cheerless grave.
 
 216 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 But see — he starts — what heard he then ? 
 
 That dreadful shout ! — across the glen 
 
 From the land-side it comes, and loud 
 
 Rings through the chasm ; as if the crowd 
 
 Of fearful things that haunt that dell. 
 
 Its Gholes and Dives and shapes of hell, 
 
 Had all in one dread howl broke out, 
 
 So loud, so terrible that shout ! 
 
 " They come — the Moslems come ! " — he cries. 
 
 His i^roud soul mounting to his eyes, — 
 
 "Now, Spirits of the Brave, who roam 
 
 " Enfranchised through yon starry dome, 
 
 " Rejoice — for souls of kindred fire 
 
 " Are on the wing to join your choir ! " 
 
 He said — and, light as bridegrooms bound 
 
 To their young loves, reclimbed the steep 
 And gained the Shrine — his Chiefs stood round — 
 
 Their swords, as with instinctive leap. 
 Together at that cry accurst. 
 Had from their sheaths, like sunbeams, burst. 
 And hark ! — again — again it rings ; 
 Near and more near its echoings 
 Peal through the chasm — oh ! who that then 
 Had seen those listening warrior-men. 
 With their swords grasped, their eyes of flame 
 Turned on their Chief — could doubt the shame, 
 Th ' indignant shame with which they thrill 
 To hear those shouts and yet stand still ? 
 
 He read their thoughts — they were his own —
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 217 
 
 " "What ! while our arms can wield these blades, 
 " Shall we die tamely ? die alone ? 
 " Without one victim to our shades, 
 '• One Moslem heart, where, buried deep, 
 " The sabre from its toil may sleep ? 
 '■ No — God of Iran's burning skies ! 
 " Thou scorn 'st th' inglorious sacrifice. 
 " No — though of all earth's hope bereft, 
 " Life, swords, and vengeance still are left. 
 " We '11 make yon valley's reeking caves 
 
 " Live in the awe-struck minds of men, 
 " Till tyrants shudder, when their slaves 
 
 " Tell of the Gheber's bloody glen. 
 " Follow, brave hearts ! — this pile remains 
 " Our refuge still from life and chains ; 
 "• But his the best, the holiest bed, 
 " Who sinks entombed in Moslem dead ! " 
 
 Down the precipitous rocks they sprung, 
 While vigor, more than human, strung 
 Each arm and heart. Th' exulting foe 
 Still through the dark defiles below, 
 Tracked by his torches' lurid fire, 
 
 Wound slow, as through Golconda's vale ^'^ 
 The mighty serpent, in his ire. 
 
 Glides on with glittering, deadly trail. 
 No torch the Ghebers need — so well 
 They know each mystery of the dell. 
 So oft have, in their wanderings. 
 Crossed the wild race that round them dwell,
 
 218 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 The very tigers from their delves 
 Look out, and let them pass, as things 
 Untamed and fearless like themselves ! 
 
 There was a deep ravine, that lay 
 
 Yet darkling in the Moslem's way ; 
 
 Fit spot to make invaders rue 
 
 The many fallen before the few. 
 
 The torrents from that morning's sky 
 
 Had filled the narrow chasm breast-high, 
 
 And on each side, aloft and wild. 
 
 Huge cliffs and toppling crags were piled, — 
 
 The guards with which young Freedom lines 
 
 The pathways to her mountain-shrines. 
 
 Here, at this pass, the scanty band 
 
 Of Iran's last avengers stand ; 
 
 Here wait, in silence like the dead. 
 
 And listen for the Moslem's tread 
 
 So anxiously, the carrion-bird 
 
 Above them flaps his wing unheard ! 
 
 They come — that plunge into the water 
 Gives signal for the work of slaughter. 
 Now, Ghebers, now — if e'er your blades 
 
 Had point or prowess, prove them now — 
 Woe to the file that foremost wades ! 
 
 They come — a falchion greets each brow, 
 And, as they tumble, trunk on trunk. 
 Beneath the gory waters sunk. 
 Still o'er their drowning bodies press
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 219 
 
 New victims quick and numberless ; 
 Till scarce an arm in Hafed's band, 
 
 So fierce their toil, hath jDOwer to stir, 
 But listless from each crimson hand 
 
 The sword hangs, clogged with massacre. 
 Never was horde of tyrants met 
 With bloodier welcome — never yet 
 To patriot vengeance hath the sword 
 More terrible libations poured ! 
 
 All up the dreary, long ravine. 
 By the red, murky glimmer seen 
 Of half-quenched brands, that o'er the flood 
 Lie scattered round and burn in blood, 
 What ruin glares ! what carnage swims ! 
 Heads, blazing turbans, quivering limbs. 
 Lost swords that, dropped from many a hand. 
 In that thick pool of slaughter stand ; — 
 Wretches who wading, half on fire 
 
 From the tossed brands that round them fly, 
 'Twixt flood and flame in shrieks expire ; — 
 
 And some who, grasped by those that die, 
 Sink woundless with them, smothered o'er 
 In their dead brethren's gushing gore ! 
 
 But vainly hundreds, thousands bleed, 
 Still hundreds, thousands more succeed ; 
 Countless as towards some flame at night 
 The North's dark insects wing their flight. 
 And quench or perish in its light,
 
 220 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 To this terrific spot they pour — 
 
 Till, bridged with Moslem bodies o'er, 
 
 It bears aloft their slipi^ery tread, 
 
 And o'er the dying and the dead. 
 
 Tremendous causeway ! on they pass. 
 
 Then, hapless Ghebers, then, alas. 
 
 What hope was left for you ? for you, 
 
 Whose yet warm pile of sacrifice 
 
 Is smoking in their vengeful eyes ; — 
 
 Whose swords how keen, how fierce they knew, 
 
 And burn with shame to find how few. 
 
 Crushed down by that vast multitude, 
 
 Some found their graves where first they stood ; 
 
 Wliile some with hardier struggle died. 
 
 And still fought on by ITafed's side. 
 
 Who, fronting to the foe, trod back 
 
 Towards the high towers his gory track ; 
 
 And, as a lion swept away 
 
 By sudden swell of Jordan's pride 
 From the wild covert where he lay,'^^^ 
 
 Long battles with the o'erwhelming tide. 
 So fought he back with fierce delay. 
 And kept both foes and fate at bay. 
 
 But whither now ? their track is lost. 
 
 Their prey escaped — guide, torches gone — 
 
 By torrent-beds and labyrinths crost. 
 The scattered crowd rush blindly on — 
 
 " Curse on those tardv lights that wind,"
 
 THE FIRE-WOESIlIPrEKS. 221 
 
 They panting cry, " so far behind ; 
 
 " Oh, for a bloodhound's precious scent, 
 
 " To track the way the Gheber went ! " 
 
 Vain wish — confusedly along 
 
 They rush, more desperate as more wrong : 
 
 Till, wildered by the far-oif lights, 
 
 Yet glittering up those gloomy heights. 
 
 Their footing, mazed and lost, they miss, 
 
 And down the darkling precipice 
 
 Are dashed into the deep abyss ; 
 
 Or midway hang, impaled on rocks, 
 
 A banquet, yet alive, for flocks 
 
 Of ravening vultures, — while the dell 
 
 Reechoes with each horrible yell. 
 
 Those sounds — the last, to vengeance dear, 
 That e'er shall ring in Hafed's ear, — 
 Now reached him, as aloft, alone. 
 Upon the steep way breathless thrown. 
 He lay beside his reeking blade, 
 
 Resigned, as if life's task were o'er, 
 Its last blood-offering amply paid. 
 
 And Iran's self could claim no more. 
 One only thought, one lingering beam 
 Now broke across his dizzy dream 
 Of pain and weariness — 't was she, 
 
 His heart's pure planet, shining yet 
 Above the waste of memory, 
 
 When all life's other lights were set. 
 And never to his mind before
 
 222 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Her image such enchantment wore. 
 
 It seemed as if each thought that stained, 
 
 Each fear that chilled their loves was past, 
 And not one cloud of earth remained 
 
 Between him and her radiance cast ; — 
 As if to charms, before so bright, 
 
 New grace from other worlds was given, 
 And his soul saw her by the light 
 
 Now breaking o'er itself from heaven ! 
 
 A voice spoke near him — 't was the tone 
 Of a loved friend, the only one 
 Of all his warriors, left with life 
 From that short night's tremendous strife. 
 " And must we then, my chief, die here ? 
 " Foes round us, and the Shrine so near ! " 
 These Avords have roused the last remains 
 
 Of life within him — " What ! not yet 
 " Beyond the reach of Moslem chains ! " 
 
 The thought could make e'en Death forget 
 His icy bondage — with a bound 
 He spi-ings, all bleeding, from the ground, 
 And grasps his comrade's arm, now grown 
 E'en feebler, heavier than his own. 
 And up the painful pathway leads. 
 Death gaining on each step he treads. 
 Speed them, thou God, who heard'st their vow ! 
 They mount — they bleed — oh, save them now ! 
 The crags are red they 've clambered o'er. 
 The rock-weed 's dripping with their gore ; —
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 223 
 
 Thy blade too, Ha fed, false at length, 
 Now breaks beneath thy tottering strength ! 
 
 Haste, haste — the voices of the Foe 
 
 Come near and nearer from below — 
 One effort more — thank Heaven ! 't is past, 
 They 've gained the topmost stee]) at last. 
 And now they touch the temple's walls, 
 
 Now Hafed sees the Fire divine — 
 Wlien, lo ! — his weak, worn comrade falls 
 
 Dead on the threshold of the Shrine. 
 " Alas, brave soul, too quickly fled ! 
 
 " And must I leave thee withering here, 
 " The sport of every ruffian's tread, 
 
 " The mark for every coward's spear ? 
 " No, by yon altar's sacred beams ! " 
 He cries, and, with a strength that seems 
 Not of this world, uiDlifts the frame 
 Of the fallen Chief, and towards the flame 
 Bears him along ; — with death-damp hand 
 
 The corpse upon the pyre he lays, 
 Then lights the consecrated brand. 
 
 And fires the pile, whose sudden blaze 
 Like lightning bursts o'er O.man's Sea. 
 " Now, Freedom's God ! I come to Thee," 
 The youth exclaims, and with a smile 
 Of triumph vaulting on the pile. 
 In that last effort, ere the fires 
 Have harmed one glorious limb, expires ! 
 
 What shriek was that on Oman's tide ?
 
 22-1 LALLA IIOOKH. 
 
 It came from yonder drifting bark, 
 That just hath caught upon her side 
 
 The death-hght — and again is dark. 
 It is the boat — ah, why delayed ? — 
 That bears the wretched Moslem maid ; 
 Confided to the watchful care 
 
 Of a small veteran band, with whom 
 Their generous Chieftain would not share 
 
 The secret of his final doom, 
 But hoped when Hinda, safe and free, 
 
 Was rendered to her father's eyes, 
 Their pardon, full and prompt, would be 
 
 The ransom of so dear a prize. 
 Unconscious, thus, of IIafed's fate, 
 And proud to guard their beauteous freight, 
 Scarce had they cleared the surfy waves 
 That foam around those frightful caves, 
 "When the curst war-whooj)s, known so well, 
 Came echoing from the distant dell — 
 Sudden each oar, upheld and still. 
 
 Hung dripping o'er the vessel's side, 
 And, driving at the current's will. 
 
 They rocked along the whispering tide ; 
 While every eye, in mute dismay. 
 
 Was toward that fatal mountain turned, 
 Where the dim altar's quivering ray 
 
 As yet all lone and tranquil burned. 
 
 Oh ! 't is not, Hinda, in the power 
 Of flincy's most terrific touch
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 225 
 
 To paint thy pangs in that dread hour — 
 
 Thy silent agony — 't was such 
 As those who feel could paint too well, 
 But none e'er felt and lived to tell ! 
 'T was not alone the dreary state 
 Of a lorn spirit, crushed by fate. 
 When, though no more remains to dread, 
 
 The panic chill will not depart ; — 
 When, though the inmate Hope be dead, 
 
 Her ghost still haunts the mouldering heart ; 
 No — pleasures, hopes, affections gone. 
 The wretch may bear, and yet live on, 
 Like things, within the cold rock found 
 Alive, when all 's congealed around. 
 But there 's a blank repose in this, 
 A calm stagnation, that were bliss 
 To the keen, burning, harrowing pain, 
 Now felt through all thy breast and brain ; — 
 That spasm of terror, mute, intense. 
 That breathless, agonized suspense. 
 From whose hot throb, whose deadly aching, 
 The heart hath no relief but breaking ! 
 
 Calm is the wave — heaven's brilliant lights 
 Reflected dance beneath the prow ; — 
 
 Time was when, on such lovely nights, 
 She who is there, so desolate now. 
 
 Could sit all cheerful, though alone. 
 And ask no happier joy than seeing 
 
 That starlight o'er the waters thrown — 
 15
 
 226 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 No joy but that, to make her blest, 
 
 And the fresh, buoyant sense of being. 
 Which bounds in youth's yet careless breast, - 
 Itself a star, not borrowing light. 
 But in its own glad essence bright. 
 How different now ! — but, hark, again 
 The yell of havoc rings — brave men ! 
 In vain, with beating hearts, ye stand 
 On the bark's edge — in vain each hand 
 Half draws the falchion from its sheath ; 
 
 All 's o'er — in rust your blades may lie : — 
 He, at whose word they 've scattered death, 
 
 E'en now, this night, himself must die ! 
 Well may ye look to yon dim tower, 
 
 And ask, and wondering guess what means 
 The battle-cry at this dead hour — 
 
 Ah ! she could tell you — she, who leans 
 Unheeded there, pale, sunk, aghast, 
 With brow against the dew-cold mast ; — 
 
 Too well she knows — her more than life. 
 Her soul's first idol and its last. 
 
 Lies bleeding in that murderous strife. 
 
 But see — what moves upon the height ? 
 Some signal ! — 't is a torch's light. 
 
 T\niat bodes its solitary glare ? 
 In gasping silence toward the Shrine 
 All eyes are turned — thine, Hinda, thine 
 
 Fix their last fading life-beams there. 
 'T was but a moment — fierce and hioh
 
 THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS. 227 
 
 The death-pile blazed into the sky, 
 And fai' away, o'er rock and flood 
 
 Its melancholy radiance sent ; 
 While IIafed, like a vision stood 
 Revealed before the burning pyre. 
 Tall, shadowy, like a Spirit of Fire 
 
 Shrined in its own grand element ! 
 " 'T is he ! " — the shuddering maid exclaims, — 
 
 But, while she si^eaks, he 's seen no more ; 
 High burst in air the funeral flames, 
 
 And Iran's hopes and hers are o'er ! 
 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, — 
 
 Deep, deep, — where never care or pain 
 
 Shall reach her innocent heart aiiain ! 
 
 Farewell — farewell to thee, Araby's daughter ! 
 
 (Thus warbled a Peri beneath the dark sea,) 
 No pearl ever lay, under Ojian's green water. 
 
 More pure in its shell than thy Spirit in thee. 
 
 Oh ! fair as the sea-flower close to thee growing, 
 How light was thy heart till Love's witchery came, 
 
 Like the wind of the south -^^ o'er a summer lute 
 blowing, 
 And hushed all its music, and withered its frame !
 
 228' LALLA ROOXH. 
 
 But long, upon Araby's green sunny highlands, 
 Shall maids and their lovers remember the doom 
 
 Of her, who lies sleeping among the Pearl Islands, 
 With naught but the sea-star '^"^ to light up her 
 tomb. 
 
 And still, when the merry date-season is buniing,'-^^ 
 And calls to the palm-groves the young and the 
 old, 
 
 The happiest there, from their pastime returning 
 At sunset, will weep when thy story is told. 
 
 The young village - maid, when with flowers she 
 dresses 
 
 Her dark flowing hair for some festival day. 
 Will think of thy fate till, neglecting her tresses. 
 
 She mournfully turns from the mirror away. 
 
 Nor shall Iran, beloved of her Hero ! forget thee — 
 Though tyrants watch over her tears as they start ; 
 
 Close, close by the side of that Hero she '11 set thee, 
 Embalmed in the innermost shrine of her heart. 
 
 Farewell — be it ours to embellish thy pillow 
 With everything beauteous that grows in the deep ; 
 
 Each flower of the rock and each gem of the billow 
 Shall sweeten thy bed and illumine thy sleep. 
 
 Around thee shall glisten the loveliest amber 
 That ever the sorrowing sea-bird has wept ; ^^^
 
 THE FIRE-WOESHTPPERS. 229 
 
 "With many a shell, in whose hollow-wreathed cham- 
 ber 
 We, Peris of Ocean, by moonlight have slept. 
 
 We '11 dive where the gardens of coral lie darkling, 
 And plant all the rosiest stems at thy head ; 
 
 We '11 seek where the sands of the Caspian ^°° are 
 sparkling. 
 And gather their gold to strew over thy bed. 
 
 Farewell — farewell — until Pity's sweet fountain 
 
 Is lost in the hearts of the fair and the brave. 
 They'll weep for the Chieftain who died on that 
 mountain, — 
 They '11 weep for the Maiden who sleeps in this 
 wave.
 
 The singular placidity with which Fadladeen 
 had listened, during the latter part of this obnoxious 
 story, sui-prised the Princess and Feramorz ex- 
 ceedingly ; and even inclined towards him the hearts 
 of these unsuspicious young persons, who little knew 
 the source of a complacency so marvellous. The 
 truth Avas, he had been organizing, for the last few 
 days, a most notable plan of persecution against the 
 poet, in consequence of some passages that had fallen 
 from him on the second evening of recital, — which 
 appeared to this worthy Chamberlain to contain lan- 
 guage and principles, for which nothing short of the 
 summary criticism of the Chabuk ^"^ would be ad- 
 visable. It was his intention, therefore, immediately 
 on their arrival at Cashmere, to give information to 
 the King of Bucharia of the very dangerous senti- 
 ments of his minstrel ; and if, unfortunately, that 
 monarch did not act with suitable vigor on the oc- 
 casion, (that is, if he did not give the Chabuk to 
 Feramorz, and a place to Fadladeen,) there 
 would be an end, he feared, of all legitimate govern- 
 ment in Bucharia. He could not help, however, 
 auguring better both for himself and the cause of 
 potentates in general ; and it was the pleasure aris-
 
 LALLA ROOKH. 231 
 
 ing from these mingled anticipations that diffused 
 such unusual satisfaction through his features, and 
 made his eyes shine out, like poppies of the desert, 
 over the wide and lifeless wilderness of that coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 Having decided upon the Poet's chastisement in 
 this manner, he thought it but humanity to spare 
 him the minor tortures of ci'iticism. Accordingly, 
 when they assembled the following evening in the 
 pavilion, and Lalla Rookh was expecting to see 
 all the beauties of her bard melt away, one by one, 
 in the acidity of criticism, like pearls in the cup of 
 the EgyjDtian queen, — he agreeably disappointed 
 her, by merely saying, with an ironical smile, that 
 the merits of such a poem deserved to be tried at a 
 much higher tribunal ; and then suddenly passed off 
 into a panegyric upon all Mussulman sovereigns, 
 more particularly his august and Imperial master, 
 Aurungzebe, — the wisest and best of the descend- 
 ants of Timur, — who, among other great things he 
 had done for mankind, had given to him, Fadla- 
 DEEN, the very jjrofitable posts of Betel-carrier and 
 Taster of Sherbets to the Emperor, Chief Holder of 
 the Girdle of Beautiful Forms,^°- and Grand Nazir, 
 or Chamberlain of the Harem. 
 
 They were now not far from that Forbidden 
 River,^°^ beyond which no pure Hindoo can pass ; 
 and were reposing for a time in the rich valley of
 
 232 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Hussun Abdaul, which had always been a favorite 
 resting-place of the Emperors in their annual migra- 
 tions to Cashmere. Here often had the Light of the 
 Faith, Jehan-guire, been known to wander with his 
 beloved and beautiful Nourmahal ; and here would 
 Lalla Rookh have been happy to remain forever, 
 giving up the throne of Bucharia and the world, for 
 Feramorz and love in this sweet, lonely valley. But 
 the time was now fast approaching when she must 
 see him no longer, — or, what was still worse, behold 
 him with eyes whose very look belonged to another ; 
 and there was a melancholy preciousness in these 
 last moments, which made her heart cling to them 
 as it would to life. During the latter part of the 
 journey, indeed, she had sunk into a deep sadness, 
 from which nothing but the presence of the young 
 minstrel could awake her. Like those lamps in 
 tombs which only light up when the air is admitted, 
 it was only at his approach that her eyes became 
 smiling and animated. But here, in this dear valley, 
 every moment appeared an age of pleasure ; she saw 
 him all day, and was, therefore, all day happy, — 
 resembling, she often thought, that people of Zinge, 
 who attribute the unfading cheerfulness they enjoy to 
 one genial star that rises nightly over their heads.^°* 
 
 The whole party, indeed, seemed in their liveliest 
 mood during the few days they passed in this de- 
 lightful solitude. The young attendants of the Prin- 
 cess, who were here allowed a much freer range
 
 LALLA ROOKH. 233 
 
 than they could safely be indulged with in a less 
 sequestered place, ran wild among the gardens and 
 bounded through the meadows, lightly as young roes 
 over the aromatic plains of Tibet. While Fadla- 
 DKEN, in addition to the spiritual comfort derived by 
 him from a pilgrimage to the tomb of the Saint 
 from whom the valley is named, had also opportuni- 
 ties of indulging, in a small way, his taste for victims 
 by putting to death some hundreds of those unfor- 
 tunate little lizards,^"*^ which all i3ious Mussulmans 
 make it a point to kill ; — taking for granted, that 
 the manner in which the creature hangs its head is 
 meant as a mimicry of the attitude in which the 
 Faithful say their prayers. 
 
 About two miles from Hussun Abdaul were those 
 Royal Gardens,^"® which had grown beautiful under 
 the care of so many lovely eyes, and were beautiful 
 still, though those eyes could see them no longer. 
 This place, with its flowers and its holy silence, in- 
 terrui>ted only by the dipping of the wings of birds 
 in its marble basins filled with the piu-e water of 
 those hills, was to Lalla Rookh all that her heart 
 could fancy of fragrance, coolness, and almost heav- 
 enly tranquillity. As the Prophet said of Damas- 
 cus, " It was too delicious ; " ^'^ — and here, in listen- 
 ing to the sweet voice of Feramorz, or reading in 
 his eyes what yet he never dared to tell her, the most 
 exquisite moments of her whole life were passed. 
 One evening, when they had been talking of the
 
 234 LALLA ROOKEf. 
 
 Sultana Nourmahal, the Light of the Harem,^"^ who 
 had so often wandered among these flowers, and fed 
 with her own hands, in those marble basins, the 
 small shining fishes of which she was so fond, — ^°^ 
 the youth, in order to delay the moment of separa- 
 tion, proposed to recite a short story, or rather rhap- 
 sody, of which this adored Sultana was the heroine. 
 It related, he said, to the reconcilement of a sort of 
 lovers' quarrel which took place between her and 
 the Emperor during a Feast of Roses at Cashmere; 
 and would remind the Princess of that difference 
 between Ilaroun Al-Raschid and his fair mistress 
 Marida,^^° which was so happily made up by the soft 
 strains of the musician, Moussali. As the story was 
 chiefly to be told in song, and Feramouz had un- 
 luckily forgotten his own lute in the valley, he bor- 
 rowed the vina of Lalla Rookh's little Persian 
 slave, and thus began : —
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE HAREM. 
 
 Who has not heard of the Vale of Cashmere, 
 With its roses the brightest that earth ever gave,^^^ 
 
 Its temples, and grottos, and fountains as clear 
 As the love-lighted eyes that hung over their 
 wave ? 
 
 Oh ! to see it at sunset, — when warm o'er the Lake 
 
 Its splendor at parting a summer eve throws. 
 Like a bride, full of blushes, when lingering to take 
 
 A last lobk of her mirror at night ere she goes ! — 
 When the shrines through the foliage are gleaming 
 
 half shown, 
 And each hallows the hour by some rites of its own. 
 Here the nnisic of prayer from a minaret swells. 
 
 Here the Magian his urn, full of perfume, is 
 swinging, 
 And here, at the altar, a zone of sweet bells 
 
 Round the waist of some fair Indian dancer is 
 ringing. ^^- 
 Or to see it by moonlight, — when mellowly shines 
 The light o'er its palaces, gardens, and shrines ;
 
 236 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Wlien the water-falls gleam, like a quick fall of stars, 
 And the nightingale's hymn from the Isle of Chenars 
 Is broken by laughs and light echoes of feet 
 From the cool, shining walks where the young peo- 
 ple meet. 
 Or at morn, when the magic of daylight awakes 
 A new wonder each minute, as slowly it breaks, 
 Hills, cupolas, fountains, called forth every one 
 Out of darkness, as if but just born of the Sun. 
 When the Spirit of Fragrance is up with the day. 
 From his Harem of night-flowers stealing away ; 
 And the Avind, full of wantonness, woos like a lover 
 The young aspen-trees/^^ till they tremble all over. 
 Wlien the East is as warm as the light of first hopes. 
 
 And Day, with his banner of radiance unfurled. 
 Shines in through the mountainous portal ^-^^ that 
 opes. 
 
 Sublime, from that Valley of bliss to the world ! 
 
 But never yet, by night or day, 
 In dew of spring or summer's ray, 
 Did the sweet Valley shine so gay 
 As now it shines — all love and light, 
 Visions by day and feasts by night ! 
 A happier smile illumes each brow, 
 
 "With quicker spread each heart uncloses. 
 And all is ecstasy, — for now 
 
 The Valley holds its Feast of Roses ; ^^^ 
 The joyous Time, when pleasures pour 
 Profusely round, and, in their shower,
 
 THE LIGHT or THE HAREM. 237 
 
 Hearts open, like the Season's Rose, — 
 The Flow'ret of a hundred leaves,''^'' 
 
 Expanding while the dew-fall flows. 
 And every leaf its balm receives. 
 
 'T was when the hour of evening came 
 
 Upon the Lake, serene and cool, 
 "When Day had hid his sultry flame 
 
 Behind the palms of BaRxVMOUle,^" 
 When maids began to lift their heads, 
 Refreshed from their embroidered beds, 
 Where they had slept the sun away. 
 And Avaked to moonlight and to jilay. 
 All were abroad — the busiest hive 
 On Bela's ^^^ hills is less alive, 
 When saflTron-beds are full in flower, 
 Than looked the Valley in that hour. 
 A thousand restless torches played 
 Through every grove and island shade ; 
 A thousand sparkling lamps were set 
 On every dome and minaret ; 
 And fields and pathways, far and near. 
 Were lighted by a blaze so clear. 
 That you could see, in wandering round, 
 The smallest rose-leaf on the ground. 
 Yet did the maids and matrons leave 
 Their veils at home, that brilliant eve ; 
 And there were glancing eyes about. 
 And cheeks, that would not dare shine out 
 In open day, but thought they might
 
 238 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Look lovely then, because 't was night. 
 And all were free, and wandering, 
 
 And all exclaimed to all they met, 
 That never did the summer bring 
 
 So gay a Feast of Eoses yet ; — 
 The moon had never shed a light 
 
 So clear as that which blessed them there 
 The roses ne'er shone half so bright, 
 
 Nor they themselves looked half so fair. 
 
 And what a wilderness of flowers ! 
 
 It seemed as though from all the bowers 
 
 And fairest fields of all the year, 
 
 The mingled spoil were scattered here. 
 
 The Lake, too, like a garden breathes. 
 
 With the rich buds that o'er it lie, — 
 As if a shower of fairy wreaths 
 
 Had fallen upon it from the sky ! 
 And then the soimds of joy, — the beat 
 Of tabors and of dancing feet ; — 
 The minaret-crier's chant of glee 
 Sung from his lighted gallery ,^^^ 
 And answered by a ziraleet 
 From neighboring Harem, wild and sweet; — 
 The merry laughter, echoing 
 From gardens, where the silken swing ^^^ 
 Wafts some delighted girl above 
 The top leaves of the orange-grove ; 
 Or, from those infant groups at play 
 Among the tents ^'"' that line the way,
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE HAREM. 239 
 
 Flinging, inlawed by slave or mother, 
 Handfnls of roses at each other. 
 
 Then, the sounds from the Lake, the low whisper- 
 ing in boats, 
 As they shoot through the moonlight ; — the dip- 
 ping of oars. 
 And the wild, airy warbling that everywhere floats. 
 Through the groves round the islands, as if all 
 the shores, 
 Like those of Kathay, uttered music, and gave 
 An answer in song to the kiss of each wave.'^-^ 
 But the gentlest of all are those sounds, full of feel- 
 ing' 
 That soft from the lute of some lover are stealing, — 
 Some lover, who knows all the heart-touching power 
 Of a lute and -a sigh in this magical hour. 
 Oh ! best of delights as it everywhere is 
 To be near the loved One, — what a rapture is his 
 Who in moonlight and music thus sweetly may glide 
 O'er the Lake of Cashmere, with that One by his 
 
 side ! 
 If woman can make the worst wilderness dear. 
 Think, think what a heaven she nmst make of 
 Cashmere ! 
 
 So felt the magnificent Son of Acbar,^-^ 
 
 When from power and pomp and the trophies of war 
 
 He flew to that Valley, forgetting them all 
 
 With the Light of the Harem, his young NouR- 
 
 MAHAL.
 
 240 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 When free and uncrowned as the Conqueror roved 
 By the banks of that Lake, with his only beloved, 
 He saw, in the wreaths she would jjlayfully snatch 
 From the hedges, a glory his crown could not 
 
 match. 
 And preferred in his heart the least ringlet that 
 
 curled 
 Down her exquisite neck to the throne of the world. 
 
 There 's a beauty, foi-ever unchangingly bright, 
 Like the long, sunny lapse of a summer-day's light, 
 Shining on, shining on, by no shadow made tender, 
 Till Love falls asleep in its sameness of splendor. 
 This ivas not the beauty — oh, nothing like this, 
 That to young Nourmahal gave such magic of 
 
 bliss ! 
 But that loveliness, ever in motion, which plays 
 Like the light upon autumn's soft shadowy days. 
 Now here and now there, giving warmth as it flies 
 From the lip to the cheek, from the cheek to the 
 
 eyes; 
 Now melting in mist and now breaking in gleams, 
 Like the glimpses a saint hath of heaven in his 
 
 dreams. 
 When pensive, it seemed as if that very grace, 
 That charm of all others, was born with her face ! 
 And when angry, — for e'en in the tranquillest 
 
 climes 
 Light breezes will ruffle the blossoms sometimes, — 
 The short, j^assing anger but seemed to awaken
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE HAREM. 241 
 
 New beauty, like flowers that are sweetest when 
 
 shaken. 
 If tenderness touched her, the dark of her eye 
 At once took a darker, a heavenlier dye, 
 From the depth of whose shadow, like holy reveal- 
 
 ings 
 From innermost shrines, came the light of her feel- 
 ings. 
 Then her mirth — oh ! 't was sportive as ever took 
 
 wing 
 From the heart with a burst, like the wild-bird in 
 
 spring ; 
 Illumed by a wit that would fascinate sages. 
 Yet playful as Peris just loosed from their cages. ^-^ 
 While her laugh, full of life, without any control 
 But the sweet one of gracefulness, rung from her 
 
 soul ; 
 And where it most sparkled no glance could dis- 
 cover. 
 In lip, cheek, or eyes, for she brightened all over, — 
 Like any fair lake that the breeze is upon, 
 When it breaks into dimples and laughs in the sun. 
 Such, such were the peerless enchantments, that 
 
 gave 
 KouRMAHAL the proud Lord of the East for her 
 
 slave : 
 And though bright was his Harem, — a living par- 
 terre 
 Of the flowers ^'^^ of this planet — though treasures 
 were there, 
 
 10
 
 242 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 For which Soliman's self might have given all the 
 
 store 
 That the navy from Ophir e'er winged to his shore, 
 Yet dim before her were the smiles of them all, 
 And the Light of his Harem was young Nourma- 
 
 HAL ! 
 
 But where is she now, this night of joy, 
 
 "When bliss is e\ ery heart's employ ? — 
 
 When all around her is so bright, 
 
 So like the visions of a trance, 
 
 That one might think, who came by chance 
 
 Into the vale this happy night, 
 
 He saw that City of Delight ^^^ 
 
 In Fairy-land, whose streets and towers 
 
 Are made of gems and light and flowers ! 
 
 Where is the loved Sultana? where, 
 
 When mirth brings out the young and fair, 
 
 Does she, the fairest, hide her brow, 
 
 In melancholy stillness now ? 
 
 / Alas ! — how light a cause may move 
 / Dissension between heails that love ! 
 
 Hearts that the world in vain had tried. 
 
 And sorrow but more closely tied ; 
 
 That stood the storm, when waves were rough. 
 
 Yet in a sunny hour fall off. 
 
 Like ships that have gone down at sea^ 
 
 When heaven was all tranquillity ! 
 
 A something, light as air — a look.
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE HAREM. 243 
 
 A word unkind or wrongly taken — 
 Oh ! love, that tempests never shook, 
 
 A breath, a touch like this hath shaken. 
 And ruder words will soon rush in 
 To spread the breach that words begin ; 
 And eyes forget the gentle ray 
 They wore in courtship's smiling day ; 
 And voices lose the tone that shed 
 A tenderness round all they said ; 
 Till fast declining, one by one. 
 The sweetnesses of love are gone, 
 And hearts, so lately mingled, seem 
 Like broken clouds, — or like the stream, 
 That smiling left the movmtain's brow 
 
 As though its waters ne'er could sever, 
 Yet, ere it reach the plain below, 
 
 Breaks into floods that part forever. 
 
 you, that have the charge of Love, 
 
 Keep him in rosy bondage boimd, 
 As in the Fields of Bliss above 
 
 He sits, with flow' rets fettered round ; — --" 
 Loose not a tie that round him clings, 
 Nor ever let him use his wings ; 
 For e'en an hour, a minute's flight 
 Will rob the plumes of half their light. 
 Like that celestial bird, — whose nest 
 
 Is found beneath far Eastern skies, — 
 Whose wings, though radiant when at rest. 
 
 Lose all their glory when he flies ! "-'^
 
 244 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Some difference, of this dangerous kind, — 
 
 By which, though light, the links that bind 
 
 The fondest hearts may soon be riven ; 
 
 Some shadow in Love's summer heaven, 
 
 Which, though a fleecy speck at first. 
 
 May yet in awful thunder burst ; — 
 
 Such cloud it is, that now hangs over 
 
 The heart of the Imperial Lover, 
 
 And far hath banished fi'om his sight 
 
 His NouRMAHAL, liis Harem's Light ! 
 
 Hence is it, on this happy night. 
 
 When Pleasure through the fields and groves 
 
 Has let loose all her world of loves, 
 
 And every heart has found its own, 
 
 He wanders, joyless and alone, 
 
 And weary as that bird of Thrace, 
 
 Whose pinion knows no resting-place.^'^® 
 
 In vain the loveliest cheeks and eyes 
 
 This Eden of the Earth supplies 
 
 Come crowding round — the cheeks are pale, 
 The eyes are dim : — though rich the spot 
 With every flower this earth has got. 
 
 What is it to the nightingale. 
 If there his darling rose is not ? ^^^ 
 In vain the valley's smiling throng 
 Worship him, as he moves along ; 
 He heeds them not — one smile of hers 
 Is worth a world of worshippers. 
 They but the Star's adorers are, 
 She is the heaven that liohts the Star !
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE HAREM. 245 
 
 Hence is it, too, that jSTourmahal, 
 
 Amid the hixuries of this hour, 
 Fai* from the joyous festival, 
 
 Sits in her own sequestered bower. 
 With no one near, to soothe or aid. 
 But that inspired and wondrous maid, 
 Namouna, the Enchantress ; — one, 
 O'er whom his race the golden sun 
 For unremembered years has run, 
 Yet never saw her blooming brow 
 Younger or fairer than 't is now. 
 Nay, rather, — as the west wind's sigh 
 Freshens the flower it passes by, — 
 Time's wing but seemed, in stealing o'er, 
 To leave her lovelier than before. 
 Yet on her smiles a sadness hung, 
 And when, as oft, she spoke or simg 
 Of other worlds, there came a light 
 From her dark eyes so strangely bright, 
 That all believed nor man nor earth 
 Were conscious of Namouna's birth ! 
 All spells and talismans she knew. 
 
 From the great Mantra,^^^ which around 
 The Air sublimer Spirits drew, 
 
 To the gold gems ^^'~ of Afric, bound 
 Upon the wandering Arab's arm. 
 To keep him from the Siltim's ^^^ harm. 
 And she had pledged her powerful art, — 
 Pledged it with all the zeal and heart 
 Of one who knew, though high her sphere.
 
 246 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Wliat 't was to lose a love so dear, — 
 To find some spell that should recall 
 Her Selim's ^^* smile to Nourmahal ! 
 
 ' T was midnight — through the lattice, wreathed 
 With woodbine, many a perfume breathed 
 From plants that wake when others sleep. 
 From timid jasmine buds, that keep 
 Their odor to themselves all day, 
 But, when the simlight dies away, 
 Let the delicious secret out 
 To every breeze that roams about ; — 
 Wlien thus Naaiouna : — " 'T is the hour 
 " That scatters spells on herb and flower, 
 " And garlands might be gathered now, 
 " That, twined around the sleeper's brow, 
 " Would make him dream of such delights, 
 " Such miracles and dazzling sights, 
 " As Genii of the Sun behold, 
 " At evening, from their tents of gold 
 " Upon th' horizon — where they play 
 " Till twilight comes, and, ray by ray, 
 " Their simny mansions melt away. 
 " Now, too, a chaplet might be wreathed 
 " Of buds o'er which the moon has breathed, 
 " Which worn by her, whose love has strayed, 
 
 " Might bring some Peri from the skies, 
 " Some sprite, whose very soul is made 
 
 " Of flowerets' breaths and lovers' sighs, 
 " And who misiht tell "
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE HAREM. 247 
 
 " For nie, for me," 
 Cried Nourjiahal impatiently, — 
 " Oh ! twine that wreath for me to-night." 
 Then, rapidly, with foot as light 
 As the young musk-roe's, out she flew. 
 To cull each shining leaf that grew 
 Beneath the moonlight's hallowing beams, 
 For this enchanted Wreath of Dreams. 
 Anemones and Seas of Gold,^^^ 
 
 And new-blown lilies of the river, 
 And those sweet flowerets, that unfold 
 
 Their buds on Cajiadeva's quiver ; — ^^® 
 The tube-rose, with her silvery light, 
 
 That in the Gardens of Malay 
 Is called the Mistress of the Night, ^^^ 
 So like a bride, scented and bright, 
 
 She comes out when the sun 's away ; — 
 Amaranths, such as crown the maids 
 That wander through Zamara's shades ; — ^^^ 
 And the white moon-flower, as it shows, 
 On Serendib's high crags, to those 
 Wlio near the isle at evening sail. 
 Scenting her clove-trees in the gale ; 
 In short, all flowerets and all plants, 
 
 From the divine Amrita-tree,^* 
 That blesses heaven's inhabitants 
 
 With fruits of immortality, 
 Down to the basil tuft,^^** that waves, 
 Its fragrant blossom over graves. 
 
 And to the humble rosemary.
 
 248 LALLA EOOKH. 
 
 Whose sweets so thanklessly are shed 
 To scent the desert ^^^ and the dead : — 
 All in that garden bloom, and all 
 Are gathered by young Nourmahal, 
 Who lieaps her baskets with the flowers 
 
 And leaves, till they can hold no more ; 
 Then to Namouna flies, and showers 
 
 Upon her lap the shining store. 
 
 With what delight th' Enchantress views 
 
 So many buds, bathed with the dews 
 
 And beams of that blessed hour ! — her glance 
 
 Spoke something, past 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. 
 And 't was, indeed, the perfume shed 
 From flowers and scented flame, that fed 
 Her charmed life — for none had e'er 
 Beheld her taste of mortal fare, 
 Nor ever in aught earthly dip, 
 But the morn's dew, her roseate lip. 
 Filled with the cool, inspiring smell, 
 Th' Enchanti'ess noAV begins her spell, 
 Thus singing as she winds and weaves 
 In mystic form the glittering leaves : —
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE HAREM. 249 
 
 I know where the Aviugecl visions dwell 
 
 That around the night-bed play ; 
 I know each herl) and floweret's bell, 
 Where they hide their wings by day. 
 Then hasten we, maid, 
 To twine our braid, 
 To-inorrow the dreams and flowers will fade. 
 
 The image of love, that nightly flies 
 
 To visit the bashful maid. 
 Steals from the jasmine flower, that sighs 
 
 Its soul, like her, in the shade. 
 The dream of a future, happier hour, 
 
 That alights on misery's brow. 
 Springs out of the silvery almond-flower, 
 
 .That blooms on a leafless bough.^^^ 
 Then hasten we, maid, 
 To twine our braid. 
 To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade. 
 
 The visions, that oft to worldly eyes 
 
 The glitter of mines unfold. 
 Inhabit the mountain-herb,^^^ that dyes 
 
 The tooth of the fawn like gold. 
 The phantom shapes — oh touch not them — 
 
 That appall the murderer's sight. 
 Lurk in the fleshly mandrake's stem. 
 
 That shrieks, when plucked at night ! 
 Then hasten we, maid. 
 To twine our braid, 
 To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade.
 
 250 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 The dream of the injured, patient mind, 
 
 That smiles at the wrongs of men, 
 Is found in the bruised and wounded rind 
 Of the cinnamon, sweetest then. 
 Then hasten we, maid, 
 To twine our braid, 
 To-morrow the dreams and flowers will fade 
 
 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 ; — 
 
 And, suddenly, a tuneful breeze, 
 
 As full of small, rich harmonies 
 
 As ever wind, that o'er the tents 
 
 Of AzAB ^" blew, was full of scents, 
 
 Steals on her ear, and floats and swells, 
 
 Like the first air of morning creeping 
 Into those wreathy, Eed-Sea shells. 
 
 Where Love himself, of old, lay sleeping ; ^*^ 
 And now a Spirit formed, 't would seem. 
 
 Of music and of light, — so fair, 
 So brilliantly his features beam. 
 
 And such a sound is in the air 
 Of sweetness when he waves his wings, — 
 Hovers around her, and thus sings : 
 
 From Chindara's ^*'^ warbling fount I come, 
 Called by that moonlight garland's spell ;
 
 TPIE LIGHT OF THE HAREM. 251 
 
 From Chindara's fount, my fairy home, 
 
 Where in music, morn and night, I dwell. 
 Where lutes in the air are heard about, 
 
 And voices are singing the whole day long, 
 And every sigh the heart breathes out 
 Is turned, as it leaves the lips, to song ! 
 Hither I come 
 From my fairy home. 
 And if there 's a magic in Music's strain, 
 I swear by the breath 
 Of that moonlight wreath. 
 Thy Lover shall sigh at thy feet again. 
 
 For mine is the lay that lightly floats, 
 And mine are the murmuring, dying notes. 
 That foil as soft as snow on the sea, 
 And melt in the heart as instantly : — 
 And the passionate strain that, deeply going. 
 
 Refines the bosom it trembles through, 
 As the nuisk-wind, over the water blowing. 
 
 Ruffles the wave, but sweetens it too. 
 
 Mine is the charm, whose mystic sway 
 The Spirits of past Delight obey ; — 
 Let but the tuneful talisman sound, 
 And they come, like Genii, hovering round. 
 And mine is the gentle song that bears 
 
 From soul to soul, the wishes of love, 
 As a bird, that wafts through genial airs 
 
 The cinnamon-seed from grove to orove.^''
 
 252 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 'T is I that mingle in one sweet measure 
 
 The i^ast, the present, and future of jileasure ; ^*^ 
 
 When Memory links the tone that is gone 
 
 With the blissful tone that's still in the ear; 
 And Hope from a heavenly note flies on 
 
 To a note more heavenly still that is near. 
 
 The warrior's heart, when touched by me. 
 
 Can as downy soft and as yielding be 
 
 As his own white illume, that high amid death 
 
 Through the field has shone — yet moves with a 
 
 breath ! 
 And, oh, how the eyes of Beauty glisten. 
 
 When Music has reached her inward soul, 
 Like the silent stars, that wink and listen 
 While Heaven's eternal melodies roll. 
 So, hither I come 
 From my fairy home, 
 And if there 's a magic in IMusic's strain, 
 I swear by the breath 
 Of that moonlight wreath, 
 Thy Lover shall sigh at thy feet again. 
 
 'T is dawn — at least that earlier dawn. 
 Whose glimpses are again withdrawn,^^' 
 As if the morn had waked, and then 
 Shut close her lids of light again. 
 And NouRMAHAL is up, and trying 
 
 The wonders of her lute, whose strings —
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE HAREM. 25c 
 
 Oh, bliss ! — now murmur like the sighing 
 
 From that ambrosial Spirit's wings. 
 And then, her voice — 't is more than human — 
 
 Never, till now, had it been given 
 To lips of any mortal woman 
 
 To utter notes so fresh from heaven ; 
 Sweet as the breath of angel sighs, 
 
 When angel sighs are most divine. 
 " Oh ! let it last till night," she cries, 
 
 " And he is more than ever mine." 
 And hourly she renews the lay, 
 
 So fearful lest its heavenly sweetness 
 Should, ere the evening, fade away, — 
 
 For things so heavenly have such fleetness ! 
 But, far from fading, it but grows 
 Richer, diviner as it flows ; 
 Till rapt she dwells on every string. 
 
 And pours again each sound along, 
 Like echo, lost and languishing. 
 
 In love with her own wondrous song. 
 
 That evening, (trusting that his soul 
 Might be from haunting love released 
 
 By mirth, by music, and the bowl.) 
 Th' Imperial SELi:\r held a feast 
 
 In his magnificent Shalimar : ^^^ 
 
 In whose Saloons, when the first star 
 
 Of evening o'er the waters trembled. 
 
 The Valley's loveliest all assemble d 
 
 All the bright creatures that, like dreams, 
 
 Glide through its foliage, and drink beams
 
 254 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Of beauty from its founts and streams ; ^^^ 
 And all those wandering minstrel-maids, 
 Who leave — how can they leave ? — the shades 
 Of that dear Valley, and are found 
 
 Singing in gardens of the South ^^'^ 
 Those songs, that ne'er so sweetly sound 
 
 As from a young Cashmerian's mouth. 
 There, too, the Harem's inmates smile : — 
 
 Maids from the West, with sun-bright hair, 
 And from the Garden of the Nile, 
 
 Delicate as the roses there ; — ^^^ 
 Daughters of Love from Cyprus' rocks. 
 With Paphian diamonds in their locks ; — ^'"^ 
 Light Peri forms, such as there are 
 On the gold meads of Candahar ; ^^^ 
 And they, before whose sleepy eyes. 
 
 In their own bright Kathaian bowers. 
 Sparkle such rainbow butterflies, 
 
 That they might fancy the rich flowers. 
 That round them in the sun lay sighing. 
 Had been by magic all set flying.^^'' 
 
 Everything young, everything fair 
 
 From East and West is blushing there, . 
 
 Except — except — O Nourmahal ! 
 
 Thou loveliest, dearest of them all. 
 
 The one, whose smile shone out alone. 
 
 Amidst a world the only one ; 
 
 Whose light, among so many lights. 
 
 Was like that star on starry nights,
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE HAREM. 255 
 
 The seaman singles from the sky, 
 
 To steer his bark forever by ! 
 
 Thou wert not there — so Selim thought, 
 
 And everything seemed di'ear without thee ; 
 But, ah ! thou wert, thou wert, — and brought 
 
 Thy charm of song all fresh about thee. 
 Mingling unnoticed with a band 
 Of lutanists from many a land, 
 And veiled by such a mask as shades 
 The features of young Arab maids, — ^^^ 
 A mask that leaves but one eye free. 
 To do its best in witchery, — 
 She roved, with beating heart, around. 
 
 And waited, trembling, for the minute, 
 When she might try if still the sound 
 
 Of her loved lute had magic in it. 
 
 The board was spread with fruits and wine ; 
 With grapes of gold, like those that shine 
 On Casein's hills ; ^^* — pomegranates full 
 
 Of melting sweetness, and the pears, 
 And sunniest apples ^^^ that Caubul 
 
 In all its thousand gardens ^^ bears ; — 
 Plantains, the golden and the green, 
 Malaya's nectared mangusteen ; ^^^ 
 Prunes of Bokara, and sweet nuts 
 
 From the far groves of Samarcand, 
 And Basra dates, and apricots. 
 
 Seed of the Sun,^^^ from Iran's land ; — 
 With rich conserve of Visna cherries,^''^
 
 256 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Of orange flowers, and of those berries 
 That, wild and fresh, the young gazelles 
 Feed on in Ekac's rocky dells.^®* 
 All these in richest vases smile, 
 
 In baskets of pure santal-wood, 
 And urns of porcelain from that isle ^""^ 
 
 Sunk underneath the Indian flood, 
 Whence oft the lucky diver brings. 
 Vases to grace the halls of kings. 
 Wines, too, of every clime and hue, 
 Around their liquid lustre threw ; 
 Amber RosoUi,^*^*^ — the bright dew 
 From vineyards of the Green Sea gushing ; *^^ 
 And SniRAZ wine, that richly ran 
 
 As if that jewel, large and rare. 
 The ruby for which Kubla.i-Khan 
 Offered a city's wealth,^''^ was blushing 
 
 Melted within the goblets there ! 
 
 And amply Selim quaffs of each, 
 
 And seems resolved the flood shall reach 
 
 His inward heart, — shedding around 
 
 A genial deluge, as they run. 
 That soon shall leave no spot undrowned. 
 
 For Love to rest his wings ujDon. 
 He little knew how well the boy 
 
 Can float upon a goblet's streams, 
 Lighting them with his smile of joy ; — 
 
 As bards have seen him in their dreams, 
 Down the blue Ganges laughing glide
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE HAREM. 257 
 
 Upon a rosy lotus- wreath,^''^ 
 Catching new lustre from the tide 
 
 That with his image shone beneath. 
 But what are cups, without the aid 
 
 Of song to speed them as they flow ? 
 And see — a lovely Georgian maid, 
 
 With all the bloom, the freshened glow 
 Of her own country maidens' looks, 
 "When warm they rise from Teflis' brooks ; ^''^ 
 And with an eye, whose restless ray, 
 
 Full, floating, dark — oh, he, who knows 
 His heart is weak, of Heaven should pray 
 
 To guard him from such eyes as those ! — 
 With a voluptuous wildness flings 
 Her snowy hand across the strings 
 Of a syrinda,^''^ and thus sings : — 
 
 Come hither, come hither — by night and by day. 
 We linger in pleasures that never are gone ; 
 
 Like the waves of the summer, as one dies away. 
 Another as sweet and as shining comes on. 
 
 And the love that is o'er, in expiring, gives birth 
 To a new one as warm, as unequall'd in bliss ; 
 
 And, oh ! if there be an Elysium on earth. 
 It is this, it is this.^" 
 
 Here maidens are sighing, and fragrant their sigh 
 
 As the flower of the Amra just oped by a bee ; ^'^ 
 And precious their tears as that rain from the sky,^'^ 
 17
 
 2o8 LALLA ROOKII. 
 
 Which turns into jDearls as it falls in the sea. 
 Oh ! think what the kiss and the smile must be 
 worth 
 When the sigh and the tear are so perfect in bliss, 
 And own if there be an Elysium on earth, 
 It is this, it is this. 
 
 Here sj^arkles the nectar, that, hallowed by love, 
 Could draw down those angels of old from their 
 sphere, 
 Who for wine of this earth ^''^ left the fountains 
 above. 
 And forgot heaven's stars for the eyes we have 
 here. 
 And, blessed with the odor our ofoblet skives forth, 
 
 "\Miat Spirit the sweets of his Eden would miss ? 
 For, oh ! if there be an Elysium on earth, 
 It is this, it is this. 
 
 The Georgian's song was scarcely mute. 
 
 When the same measure, soimd for soimd, 
 Was caught up by another lute, 
 
 And so divinely breathed around, 
 That all stood hushed and wondering. 
 
 And turned and looked into the air. 
 As if they thought to see the Aving 
 
 Of IsRAFii.,'^'^*' the Angel, there ; — 
 So powerfully on every soul 
 That new, enchanted measure stole.
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE HAREM. 259 
 
 While now a voice, sweet as the note 
 Of the charmed hite, was heard to float 
 Along its chords, and so entwine 
 
 Its sounds with theirs, that none knew whether 
 The voice or lute was most divine, 
 
 So wondrously they went together : — 
 
 There 's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told, 
 When tAvo, that are linked in one heavenly tie, 
 
 With heart never changing, and brow never cold, 
 Love on through all ills, and love on till they die ! 
 
 One hour of a passion so sacred is worth 
 
 Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss ; 
 
 And, oh ! if there ho an Elysium on earth, 
 It is this, it is this. 
 
 'T was not the air, 't was not the words, 
 But that deep magic in the chords 
 And in the lips, that gave such power 
 As INIusic knew not till that hour. 
 At once a hundred voices said, 
 " It is the masked Arabian maid ! " 
 While Skliai, who had felt the strain 
 Deepest of any, and had lain 
 Some minutes rapt, as in a trance. 
 
 After the fairy sounds were o'er. 
 Too inly touched for utterance. 
 
 Now motioned with his hand for more : —
 
 260 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 Fly to the desert, fly with me, 
 Our Arab tents ai'e rude for thee ; 
 But, oh ! the choice what heart can doubt, 
 Of tents with love, or thrones without ? 
 
 Our rocks are rough, but smiling there 
 Th' acacia waves her yellow hair, 
 Lonely and sweet, nor loved the less 
 For flowering in a wilderness. 
 
 Our sands are bare, but down their slope 
 The silvery-footed antelope 
 As gracefidly and gayly springs 
 As o'er the marble courts of kings. 
 
 Then come — thy Arab maid will be 
 The loved and lone acacia-tree, — 
 The antelope, whose feet shall bless 
 With their light sound thy loneliness. 
 
 Oh ! there are looks and tones that dart 
 An instant sunshine through the heart, — 
 As if the soul that minute caught 
 Some treasure it through life had sought ; 
 
 As if the very lips and eyes. 
 Predestined to have all our sighs, 
 And never be forgot again, 
 Sj^arkled and spoke before us then !
 
 THE LIGHT OF THE HAREM.- 261 
 
 So came thy every glance and tone, 
 Wlien first on me they breathed and shone ; 
 New, as if brought from other spheres, 
 Yet welcome as if loved for years. 
 
 Then fly with me, — if thou hast known 
 No other flame, nor falsely thrown 
 A gem away, that thou hadst sworn 
 Should ever in thy heart be worn. 
 
 Come, if the love thou hast for me 
 Is pure and fresh as mine for thee, — 
 Fresh as the fountain under ground. 
 When first 't is by the lapwing found.^''"' 
 
 But if for me thou dost forsake 
 Some other maid, and rudely break 
 Her worshipjjed image from its base. 
 To give to me the ruined place ; — 
 
 Then, fare thee well — I 'd rather make 
 My bower ujion some icy lake 
 When thawing suns begin to shine. 
 Than trust to love so false as thine ! 
 
 There was a pathos in this lay. 
 
 That, e'en without enchantment's art. 
 
 Would instantly have found its wa}- 
 Deep into Sklim's burning heart ;
 
 262 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 But, breathing, as it did, a tone 
 To eartlily lutes and lips unknown ; 
 With every chord fresh from the touch 
 Of Music's Spirit, — 't was too much ! 
 Starting, he dashed away the cup, — 
 
 Which, all the time of this sweet air, 
 His hand had held, untasted, up, 
 
 As if 't were fixed by magic there, — 
 And naming her, so long unnamed, 
 So long unseen, wildly exclaimed, 
 
 " O NOURMAHAL ! O NOUKMAHAL ! 
 
 " Hadst thou but sung this witching strain, 
 " I could forget — forgive thee all, 
 " And never leave those eyes again." 
 
 The mask is off — the charm is wrought — 
 And Selim to his heart has caught. 
 In blushes, more than ever bright. 
 His NouRMAHAL, his Harem's Light ! 
 And well do vanished frowns enhance 
 The charm of every brightened glance ; 
 And dearer seems each dawning smile 
 For having lost its light awhile : 
 And, happier now for all her sighs, 
 
 As on his arm her head rej^oses. 
 She whispers him, with laughing eyes, 
 
 " Remember, love, the Feast of Roses ! "
 
 Fadladeen, at the conclusion of this light rhap- 
 sody, took occasion to sum up his opinion of the 
 young Cashmerian's poetry, — of Avhich, he trusted, 
 they had that evening heard the last. Having re- 
 capitulated the epithets, " frivolous " — " inharmo- 
 nious " — •' nonsensical," he proceeded to say that, 
 viewing it in the most favorable light, it resembled 
 one of those Maldivian boats, to which the Princess 
 had alluded in the relation of her dream,^''^ — a 
 slight, gilded thing, sent adrift without rudder or 
 ballast, and with nothing but vapid sweets and faded 
 flowers on board. The profusion, indeed, of flowers 
 and birds, which this poet had ready on all occa- 
 sions, — not to mention dews, gems, etc., — was a 
 most oppressive kind of opulence to his hearers ; 
 and had the imlucky efft'ct of giving to his style all 
 the glitter of the flower-garden without its method, 
 and all the flutter of the aviary without its song. In 
 addition to this, he chose his subjects badly, and was 
 always most inspired by the worst parts of them. 
 The charms of paganism, the merits of rebellion, — 
 these were the themes honored with his particular 
 enthusiasm ; and, in the poem just recited, one of 
 his most palatable passages was in praise of that
 
 264 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 beverage of the Unfaithful, wine ; — " being, per- 
 haps," said he, relaxing into a smile, as conscious of 
 his own character in the Harem on this point, " one 
 of those bards, whose fancy owes all its illumination 
 to the grape, like that painted porcelain,^''^ so curi- 
 ous and so rare, whose images are only visible when 
 liquor is poured into it." Upon the whole, it was 
 his opinion, from the sj^ecimens which they had 
 heard, and which, he begged to say, were the most 
 tiresome part of the journey, that — whatever other 
 merits this well-dressed young gentleman might pos- 
 sess — poetry was by no means his proper avocation : 
 " and indeed," concluded the critic, " from his fond- 
 ness for flowers and for birds, I would "venture to 
 suggest that a florist or a bird-catcher is a much 
 more suitable calling for him than a jjoet." 
 
 They had now begun to ascend those barren 
 mountains which separate Cashmere from the rest 
 of India ; and, as the heats were intolerable, and the 
 time of their encampments limited to the few hours 
 necessary for refreshment and repose, there was an 
 end to all their delightful evenings, and Lalla 
 RooKH saw no more of Feramorz. She now felt 
 that her short dream of happiness was over, and 
 that she had nothing but the recollection of its few 
 blissful hours, like the one draught of sweet water 
 that serves the camel across the wilderness, to be 
 her heart's refreshment during the dreary waste of 
 life that was before her. The blight that had fallen
 
 LALLA ROOKH. 265 
 
 upon her spirits soon found its way to her cheek, 
 and her ladies saw with regret — though not with- 
 out some suspicion of the cause — that the beauty 
 of their mistress, of which they were ahnost as 
 proud as of their own, was fost vanishing away at 
 the very moment of all when she had most need of 
 it. What must the King of Bucharia feel, when, 
 instead of the lively and beautiful Lalla Rookii, 
 whom the poets of Delhi had described as more per- 
 fect than the divinest images in the house of Azor,^^** 
 he should receive a pale and inanimate victim, upon 
 whose cheek neither health nor pleasure bloomed, 
 and from whose eyes Love had fled, — to hide him- 
 self in her heart? 
 
 If anything could have charmed away the melan- 
 choly of her spirits, it would have been the fresh airs 
 and enchanting scenery of that Valley, which the 
 Persians so justly call the Unequalled.^^^ But 
 neither the coolness of its atmosphere, so luxurious 
 after toiling up those bare and burning mountains, 
 
 — neither the splendor of the minarets and pagodas, 
 that shone out from the depth of its woods, nor the 
 grottos, hermitages, and miraculous fountains,^^^ 
 which make every spot of that region holy ground, 
 
 — neither the countless water-falls, that rush into the 
 Valley from all those high and romantic mountains 
 that encircle it, nor the fair city on the Lake, whose 
 houses, roofed with flowers,^^^ appeared at a distance 
 like one vast and variegated parterre ; — not all
 
 ^^^^ LALLA KOOKH. 
 
 these wonders and glories of the most lovely coimtiy 
 under the sun could steal her heart for a minute 
 from those sad thoughts, which but darkened, and 
 grew bitterer every step she advanced. 
 
 The gay pomps and processions that met her 
 upon her entrance into the Valley, and the magnifi- 
 cence with which the roads all along were decorlted, 
 did honor to the taste and gallantry of the young 
 Kmg. It was night when they approached the cit;^ 
 and, for the last two miles, they had passed under 
 arches, thrown from hedge to hedge, festooned with 
 only those rarest roses from which the Attar Gul, 
 more precious than gold, is distilled, and illuminated 
 in rich and fanciful forms with lanterns of the triple- 
 colored tortoise-shell of Pegu.^^^'' Sometimes, from 
 a dark wood by the side of the road, a display of 
 fireworks would break out, so sudden and so brill- 
 iant, that a Brahmin might fancy he beheld that 
 grove, in whose purple shade the God of Battles was 
 born, bursting into a flame at the moment of his. 
 birth ; — while, at other times, a quick and playful 
 irradiation continued to brighten all the fields and 
 gardens by which they passed, foi-ming a line of 
 dancing lights along the horizon ; like the meteors 
 of the north as they are seen by those hunters ^ss 
 who pursue the white and blue foxes on the confines 
 of the Icy Sea. 
 
 These arches and fireworks delighted the Ladies
 
 LALLA ROOKII. 267 
 
 of the Princess exceedingly; and, with their usual 
 good logic, they deduced from his taste for illumina- 
 tions, that the King of Bucharia would make the 
 most exemplary husband imaginable. Nor, indeed, 
 could Lalla Eookii herself help feeling the kind- 
 ness and splendor with which the young bridegroom 
 welcomed her ; — but she also felt how painful is the 
 gratitude, which kindness from those we cannot love 
 excites ; and that their best blandishments come 
 over the heart with all that chilling and deadly 
 sweetness, which we can fancy in the cold, odorifer- 
 ous wind ^^° that is to blow over this earth in the last 
 days. 
 
 The marriage was fixed for the morning after her 
 arrival, when she was, for the first time, to be pre- 
 sented to the monarch in that Imperial Palace be- 
 yond the lake, called the Shalimar. Though never 
 before had a night of more wakeful and anxious 
 thought been passed in the Happy Valley, yet, when 
 she rose in the morning, and her Ladies came 
 around her, to assist in the adjustment of the bridal 
 ornamenis, they thought they had never seen her 
 look half so beautiful. What she had lost of the 
 bloom and radiancy of her charms was more than 
 made up by that intellectual expression, that soul 
 beaming forth from the eyes, which is worth all the 
 rest of loveliness. When they had tinged her fin- 
 gers with the Henna leaf, and placed upon her brow 
 a small coronet of jewels, of the shape worn by the
 
 268 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 ancient Queens of Bucharia, tliey flung over her 
 head the rose-colored bridal veil, and she proceeded 
 to the barge that was to convey her across the lake ; 
 — first kissing, with a mournful look, the little amu- 
 let of cornelian, which her father at parting had 
 hung about her neck. 
 
 The morning was as fresh and fair as the maid 
 on whose nuptials it rose, and the shining lake, all 
 covered with boats, the minstrels playing upon the 
 shores of the islands, and the crowded summer-houses 
 on the green hills around, with shawls and banners 
 waving from their roofs, presented such a picture of 
 animated rejoicing, as only she, who was the object 
 of it all, did not feel with transport. To Lalla 
 RooKii alone it was a melancholy pageant ; nor 
 could she have even borne to look upon the scene, 
 were it not for a hope that, among the crowds around, 
 she might once more perhaps catch a glimpse of 
 Feramorz. So much was her imagination haunted 
 by this thought, that there was scarcely an islet or 
 boat she passed on the way, at which her heart did 
 not flutter with the momentary fancy that he was 
 there. Happy, in her eyes, the humblest slave upon 
 whom the light of his dear looks fell ! — In the barofe 
 immediately after the Princess sat Fadladken, with 
 his silken curtains thrown widely apart, that all might 
 have the benefit of his august presence, and with his 
 head full of the speech he was to deliver to the King, 
 " concerning Fkramokz, and literature, and the 
 Chabuk, as connected therewith."
 
 LALLA ROOKII. 269 
 
 They now had entered the canal which leads from 
 the Lake to the splendid domes and saloons of the 
 Shalimar, and went gliding on through the gardens 
 that ascended from each bank, full of flowering 
 shrubs that made the air all perfume ; while from 
 the middle oT the canal rose jets of water, smooth 
 and unbroken, to such a dazzling height, that they 
 stood like tall pillars of diamond in the sunshine. 
 After sailing under the arches of various saloons, 
 they at length arrived at the last and most magnifi- 
 cent, where the monarch awaited the coming of his 
 bride ; and such was the agitation of her heart and 
 frame, that it was with difficulty she could walk up 
 the marble steps, which were covered with cloth of 
 gold for her ascent from the barge. At the end of 
 the hall stood two thrones, as precious as the Ceru- 
 lean Throne of Coolburga,^^'^ on one of which sat 
 Aliris, the youthful King of Bucharia, and on the 
 other was, in a few minutes, to be placed the most 
 beautiful Princess in the world. Immediately upon 
 the entrance of Lalla Rookh into the saloon, the 
 monarch descended from his throne to meet her ; 
 but scarcely had he time to take her hand in his, 
 when she screamed with surprise, and fainted at his 
 feet. It was Fkramorz himself that stood before 
 her ! — Feramorz was, himself, the Sovereign of 
 Bucharia, who in this disguise had accompanied his 
 young bride from Delhi, and, having won her love as 
 an humble minstrel, now amply deserved to enjoy it 
 as a Kin 2.
 
 270 LALLA ROOKH. 
 
 The consternation of Fadladeex at this discovery 
 was, for the moment, ahiiost pitiable. But change 
 of opinion is a resource too convenient in courts for 
 this experienced courtier not to have learned to avail 
 himself of it. His criticisms were all, of course, re- 
 canted instantly : he was seized with an admiration 
 of the King's verses, as unbounded as, he begged 
 him to believe, it was disinterested ; and the following 
 week saw him in possession of an additional place, 
 swearing by all the Saints of Islam that never had 
 there existed so great a poet as the Monarch Aliris, 
 and, moreover, ready to prescribe his favorite regi- 
 men of the Chabuk for every man, woman, and child 
 that dared to think otherwise. 
 
 Of the happiness of the King and Queen of Bu- 
 charia, after such a beginning, there can be but little 
 doubt ; and, among the lesser symjDtoms, it is re- 
 corded of Lalla Rookh, that, to the day of her 
 death, in memory of their delightful journey, she 
 never called the King by any other name than 
 Ferahorz.
 
 NOTES. 
 
 Xote 1, p. 17. — He embarhed for Arabia. — These particulars of 
 the visit of the King of Bucharia to Auriingzebe are found in 
 Dow's History of Iliwhstan, Vol. III. p. .392. 
 
 Note 2, p. 17. — Lalla Rookh. — Tulip cheek. 
 
 Note 3, p. 17. — Leila. — The mistress of Mejnoun, upon -whose 
 story so many Eomances in all the languages of the East are 
 founded. 
 
 Note 4, p. 17. — Shirine. — For the loves of this celebrated beauty 
 with Khosrou and with Ferhad, see D' He7-beIot, Gibbon, Oriental 
 Collections, etc. 
 
 Note 5, p. 17. — Dewilde. — " The history of the loves of Dewild^ 
 and Chizer, the son of the Emperor Alia, is ^vritten in an elegant 
 poem, by the noble Chusero." — Ferishta. 
 
 Note G, p. 18. — Scatteriuff of the Roses. — Gul Reazee. 
 
 Note 7, p. 19. — Emperor^ s favor. — " One mark of honor or 
 knighthood bestowed by the Emperor is the permission to wear a 
 small kettle-drum at the bows of their saddles, which at tirst was 
 invented for the training of hawks, and to call them to the lure, 
 and is worn in the tleld by all sportsmen to that end." — Fryer's 
 Traceh.
 
 272 NOTES. 
 
 "Those on whom the King has conferred the privilege must wear 
 an ornament 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." — Elphinstone's ^c- 
 count of Caitbul. 
 
 Note 8, p. 19. — Keder Khan. — " Khedar Khan, the Khakan, 
 or King of Turq-uestan beyond the Gihon (at the end of the eleventh 
 century), whenever he appeai-ed abroad, was preceded by seven 
 hundred horsemen with silver battle-axes, and was followed by 
 an equal 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 by him to distribute 
 among the poets who excelled." — Richardson's Dissertation ])re- 
 Jixed to his Dictionary. 
 
 Note 9, p. 19. — Gilt pine apples. — " The kubdeli, a large golden 
 knob, generally in the shape of a pine-apple, on the top of the can- 
 opj' over the litter or palankeen." — Scott's Notes on the Baharda- 
 
 nush. 
 
 Note 10, p. 19. — Sumptuous litter. — In the Poem of ZoJiair, in 
 the Moallakat, there is the following lively description of " a com- 
 pany of maidens seated on camels: " — 
 
 " They are mounted in carriages covered with costly awnings, 
 and with rose-colored veils, the linings of which have the hue of 
 crimson Andem-wood. 
 
 " When the}' ascend fi-om 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 tix the poles of their tents like the Arab with a settled 
 
 Note 11, p. 19. — Argus pheasanVs wing. — See Bernier's descrip- 
 tion of the attendants on Kaucha-nara-Begum, in her progress to 
 Cashmere. 
 
 Note 12, p. 20. — Munijicent protector. — This hypocritical Em-
 
 NOTES. 273 
 
 peror would have made a worthy associate of certain Holy Leagues. 
 "lie 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 magniticent mosque at Delhi, as an offering to God for his as- 
 sistance to him in the civil wars. He acted as High Priest at the 
 consecration of this Temple; and made a practice of attending di- 
 vine service there, in the humble dress of a Fakeer. But when he 
 lifted one hand to the Divinity', he, with the other, signed warrants 
 fur the assassination of his relations." — History of Ilindostan, Vol. 
 HI. p. 335. See also the curious letter of Aurungzebe, given in the 
 Oriental Collections, Vol. I. p. 320. 
 
 Note 13, p. 20. — The idol of Jafjhernaid. — " The idol at Jag- 
 hernat has two fine diamonds for eyes. No goldsmith is suffered 
 to enter the Pagoda, one having, stole one of these eyes, being locked 
 up all night with the Idol." — Tavernier. 
 
 Note 14, p. 20. — Royal Gardens of Delhi. — See a description 
 of these royal gardens in An Account of the jvesent State of 
 Delhi, by Lieut. W. Franklin. — Asiat. Research. Vol. IV. p. 417. 
 
 Note 15, p. 20. — Lake of Pearl. — "In the neighborhood is 
 Notte Gill, or the Lake of Pearl, which receives this name from 
 its pellucid water." — Pennant's Hindosian. 
 
 " Nasir Jung encamped in the vicinity of the Lake of Tonoor, 
 amused himself with sailing on that clear and beautiful water, and 
 gave it the fanciful name of ISIotee Talali, ' the Lake of Pearls,' 
 which it still retains." — Wilks's South of India. 
 
 Note 16, p. 20. — /s/e.s of the West. — Sir Thomas Roe, Ambas- 
 sador from James I. to Jehan-Guire. 
 
 Note 17, p. 21. — -Ezra. — The romance Wemakweazra, written 
 in Persian verse, which contains the loves of Wamak and Ezra, 
 two celebrated lovers who lived before the time of Mahomet." — 
 
 Note on the Oriental Tales. 
 18
 
 274 NOTES. 
 
 Note 18, p. 21. — RodaJiver. — Their amour is recounted in the 
 Shah-Namch 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 at- 
 tention of the young Hero who is encamped on the opposite side. — 
 See Champion's Translation. 
 
 Note 19, p. 21. — While Demon. — Rustam is the Hercules of 
 the Persians. For the particulars of his victor}' 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 Gazo- 
 philacium Persicum, p. 127, declares to have been the most mem- 
 orable monument of antiquity which he had seen in Persia." — 
 See Ouseley's Persian Miscellanies. 
 
 Note 20, p. 21. — Golden anklets. — " The women of the Idol, or 
 dancing-girls of the Pagoda, have little golden bells fastened to 
 their feet, the soft hai-monious tinkling of which vibrates in unison 
 with the exquisite melody of their voices." — Maurice's Indian 
 Antiquities. 
 
 " The Arabian courtesans, like the Indian women, have little 
 golden bells fiistened round their legs, neck, and elbows, to the 
 sound of which they dance before the King. The Arabian prin- 
 cesses wear golden rings on their fingers, to which little 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 pass- 
 ing the homage due to them." — See Calmet's Dictionary, art. 
 Bells. 
 
 Note 21, p. 22. — Delicious opium. — "Abou-Tige, ville de la 
 Theba'ide, oil il crolt beaucoup de pavot noii-, dont se fait le meil- 
 leur opium." — D'Herbelot. 
 
 Note 22, p. 22. — Chrishna. — The Indian Apollo. — " He and the 
 three Ramas are described as youths of perfect beauty ; and the 
 princesses of Hindustan were all passionately in love with Chrishna,
 
 NOTES. 275 
 
 who continues to this hour the darling God of the Indian women." 
 — Sir W. Jones, on the Gods of Greece, Italy, and India. 
 
 Note 23, p. 22. — Shawl-goats of Tibet. — See Turner's Embassy 
 for a description of this animal, " the most beautiful among the 
 whole tribe of goats." The material for the shawls (which is car- 
 ried to Cashmere) is found next the skin. 
 
 Note 24, p. 23. — Veiled Prophet of Khorassan. — For tlie real 
 liistory of this impostor, whose original name was Hakem ben Has- 
 chem, and who was called JMocanna from the veil of silver gauze 
 (or, as others say, golden) which he always wore, see D'Herbelot. 
 
 Note 25, p. 24. — Khorassan. — Khorassan signifies, in the old 
 Persian language, Province or Region of the Sun. — Sir W. Jones. 
 
 Note 20, p. 24. — Flow' rets and fruits, blush over every stream. 
 
 "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." — Ebn Haukal's Geography. 
 
 ■ Note 27, p. 24. — Among Merou's bright palaces and groves. 
 One of the royal cities of Khorassan. 
 
 Note 28, p. 24. — Moussa's. — Moses. 
 
 Note 29, p. 24. — C'e?- Moussa's cheek, tvhen down the Mount he 
 trod. 
 
 " Ses disciples assuroient qu'il se couvroit le visage, pour ne pas 
 cblouir ceux qui I'approchoient par I'e^clat de son visage comme 
 Moyse." — D'Herbelot. 
 
 Note 30, p. 2.5. — In hatred to the CnllpVs hue of night. 
 Black was the color adopted by the Caliphs of the House of 
 Abbas, in their garments, turbans, and standards. — " II fiiut re- 
 marquer ici touchant les habits blancs des disciples de Hakem, que 
 la couleur des habits, des coefFures et des ^tendards des Khalifes 
 Abassides dtant la noire, ce chef de Rebelles ne pouvoit pas choisir 
 une qui lui fut plus opposde." — D'Herbelot.
 
 276 NOTES. 
 
 Note 31, p. 25. — With Javelins of the light Katliaian reed. 
 " Our dark javelins, exquisitely wrought of Khathaian reeds, 
 slender and delicate." — Poem of Amru. 
 
 Note 32, p. 25. — Filled ivith the stems. 
 Pichula, used anciently for arrows by the Persians. 
 
 Note 33, p. 25. — That bloom on Iran's rivers. 
 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 this plant in flower 
 during the rains on the banks of the rivers, where it is usually in- 
 terwoven with a lovely twining asclepias." — Sir W. Jones, Botan- 
 ical Observations on Select Indian Plants. 
 
 Note 34, p. 25. — Like a chenar-tree grove when winter thrmcs. 
 
 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, is of a bright green." — Morier's 
 Travels. 
 
 Note 35, p. 26. — From those who kneel at Brahma's burning founts. 
 The burning fountains of Brahma near Chittogong, esteemed as 
 holy. — Turner. 
 
 Note 36, p. 26. — To the small, half-shut glances of Katiiay. — 
 China. 
 
 Note 37, p. 26. — Like tulip-beds of different shape and dyes. 
 " The name of tulip is said to be of Turkish extraction, and 
 given to the flower on account of its resembling a turban." — Beck- 
 mann's History of Liventions. 
 
 Note 38, p. 27. — And fur-bound bonnet of Bucharian shape. 
 " The inhabitants of Bucharia wear a round cloth bonnet, shaped 
 much after the Polish 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 Pinkertori's Collection.
 
 NOTES. 277 
 
 Note 39, p. 27. — Overwhelmed mjiyht and captive to the GreeJc. 
 In the war of the Caliph Mahadi against the Empress Irene, for 
 an account of which vide Gibbon, Vol. X. 
 
 Note 40, p. 28. — Thejlying throne of star-taught Souman. 
 This wonderful Throne was called The Star of the Genii. For 
 a full description of it, see the Fragment, translated by Captain 
 Franklin, from a Persian MS. entitled " The History of Jerusalem." 
 — Oriental Collections, Vol. I. 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 them- 
 selves 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 over their heads, and 
 forming a kind of canopy to shade them from the sun." — Sale's 
 Koran, Vol. II. p. 214, note. 
 
 Note 41, p. 28. — For many an age, in every chance and change. 
 The transmigration of souls was one of his doctrines. — Vide 
 D'Herbelot. 
 
 Note 42, p. 29. — To ichich all Heaven, except the Proud One, knelt. 
 " And when we said nnto the angels. Worship Adam, they all 
 worshipped except Eblis (Lucifer), who refused." — The Koran, 
 chap. ii. 
 
 Note 43, p. 29. — In Movssx's frame, — and, thence descending, 
 flowed. — Moses. 
 
 Note 44, p. 29. — Through many a Prophet's breast. 
 This is according to D'Herbelot's account of the doctrines of 
 Mokanna : " Sa doctrine ^toit, que Dieu avoit pris une forme et 
 figure humaine, depui.s qu'il eut comraandii aux Anges d'adorer 
 Adam, le premier des hommes. Qu'aprfes la mort d'Adam, Dieu 
 etoit apparu sous la figure de plusieurs Froplietes, et autres grands 
 hommes qu'il avoit choisis, jusqu'a ce qu'il prit celle d'Abu Mos- 
 lem, Prince de Khorassan, lequel professoit I'erreur de la Tenas-
 
 278 NOTES. 
 
 sukhiah ou Metempschy chose ; et qu'apres la mort de ce Prince, la 
 Divinity etoit passee, et descendue en sa personue." 
 
 Note 45, p. 29. — In IssA shone. — Jesus. 
 
 Note 4G, p. 32. — Born by that ancient flood, which from its spring. 
 The Anioo, which rises in the Belur Tag, or Dark Mountains, 
 and running nearly' from east to west, splits into two branches; 
 one of which falls into the Caspian Sea, and the other into Aral 
 Nahr, or the Lake of Eagles. 
 
 Note 47, p. 34. — The bulbul utters, ere her soul dejmrt. — The 
 Nightingale. 
 
 Note 48, p. 42. — In holy KooM, or Mecca's dim arcades. 
 The cities of Com (or Koom) and Cashan are full of mosques, 
 mausoleums, and sepulchres of the descendants of Ali, the Saints 
 of Persia. — Chardin. 
 
 Note 49, p. 42. — Stood Vases, fllled tvith Kishmee's golden wine. 
 An island in the Persian Gulf, celebrated for its white wine. 
 
 Note 50, p. 42. — Lihe Zemzem's Spring of Holiness, had power. 
 The miraculous well at Mecca; so called, says Sale, from the 
 murmuring of its waters. 
 
 Note 51, p 42. — JVliom India serves, the monkey deity. 
 
 The god Hannaman. " Apes are in many parts of India highly 
 venerated, out of respect to the god Hannaman, a deity partaking 
 of the form of that race." — Pennant's IJindoostan. 
 
 See a curious account in Stephen's Persia, of a solemn embassy 
 from some part of the Indies to Goa, when the Portuguese were 
 there, offering vast treasures for the recovery of a monkey's tooth 
 which they held in great veneration, and which had been taken 
 away upon the conquest of the kingdom of Jafanapatan. 
 
 Note 52, p. 42. — To bend in worship, Lucifer was right. 
 This resolution of Eblis not to acknowledge the new creature, 
 man, was, according to Mahometan tradition, thus adopted : " The
 
 NOTES. 279 
 
 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 afterwards fashioned by 
 God himself into a human form, and left to dry for the space of 
 forty days, or, as others say, as many 3^ears; the angels, in the 
 mean time, often visiting it, and Eblis (then one of the angels 
 nearest to God's presence, afterwaj'ds 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 supe- 
 rior, took a secret resolution never to acknowledge him as such." — 
 Sale on the Koran. 
 
 Note 53, p. 43. — From dead meii's marrow (juidts them best at 
 niglit. 
 A kind of lantern formerly used by robbers, called the Hand 
 of Glory, the candle for which was made of the fat of a dead male- 
 factor. This, however, was rather a western than an eastern su- 
 perstition. 
 
 Note 54, p. 44. — In that best marble of which gods are made. 
 The material of which images of Gaudma (the Birman Deity) 
 are made, is held sacred. " Birmans may not purchase the marble 
 in mass, but are suffered, and indeed encouraged, to buy figures of 
 the Deity ready made." — Symes's Ava, Vol. II. p. 37G. 
 
 Note 55, p. 48. — Of Kerzrah flowers, came filled with pestilence. 
 " It is commonly said in Persia, that if a man breathe in the 
 hot south wind, which in June or July passes over that flower 
 (the Kerzereh), it will kill him." — Thevenot. 
 
 Note 56, p. 50. — Within the crocodile's stretched jaws to come. 
 
 The humming-bird is said to run this risk for the purpose of 
 picking the crocodile's teeth. The same circumstance is related of 
 the lapwing, as a fact to which he was witness, by Paul Lucas, Voij- 
 agefait en 1714. 
 
 The ancient story concerning the Trochilus, or humming-bird, 
 entering with impunity into the mouth of the crocodile, is firmly 
 believed at Java. — Barrow's Cochin- China.
 
 280 NOTES. 
 
 Note 57, p. 52. — Thai ranh and venomous food on ichkh she lives. 
 " Circum easdem ripas (Nili, viz.) ales est Ibis. Ea serpentium 
 populatur ova, gratissimamque ex his escam nidis suis refert." — 
 Solinus. 
 
 Note 58, p. 54. — Yamtcheou. — "The feast of Lanterns is cele- 
 brated at Yamtcht'ou with more magniflcence than anywhere else; 
 and the report goes, that the illuminations there are so splendid, 
 that an Emperor once, not daring openly to leave his Court to go 
 thither, committed himself with the Queen and several Princesses 
 of his family into the hands of a magician, who promised to trans- 
 port them thither in a trice. He made them in tlie night to ascend 
 magnificent thrones that were borne up by swans, which in a mo- 
 ment arrived at Yamtcheou. The Emperor saw at his leisure all 
 the .solemnity, being carried upon a cloud that hovered over the 
 city and descended by degrees; and came back again with the 
 same speed and equipage, nobody at court perceiving his absence." 
 — The Present State of China, p. 15G. 
 
 Note 59, p. 54. — Sceneries of humboo-ioorlc. — See a description 
 of the nuptials of Vizier Alee in the Asiatic Annual Register of 
 1804. 
 
 Note 60, p. 55. — Clnnese illuminations. — " The vulgar ascribe 
 it to an accident that happened in the family of a famous manda- 
 rin, whose daughter walking one evening upon the shore of a lake, 
 fell in and was drowned; this atHicted father, with his family, ran 
 thither, and, the better to find her, lie 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 da\'; they continued the ceremony every year, 
 every one lighted his lantern, and by degrees it commenced into 
 a custom." — Present Slate of China. 
 
 Note 61, p. 57. — Like Seba's Queen cotild vanquish with that 
 one. 
 
 "Thou hast ravished my iieart with one of thine eyes." — Sol, 
 Song.
 
 NOTES. 281 
 
 Note 62, p. 57. — The fingers' ends with a bright roseate hue. 
 " Thav tingeil the ends of her fingers scarlet with Henna, so 
 tliat they resembled branches of coral." — Story of Prince Futtun 
 in Bahardanush. 
 
 Note 63, p. 57. — To give that long, darh languish to the eye. 
 
 " The women blacken the inside of their eyelids with a pow- 
 der named the black Kohol." — Russel. 
 
 " None of these ladies," says Shaw, " take themselves to be com- 
 pletely dressed, till they have tinged the hair and edges of their 
 eyelids with the powder of lead ore. Now,- as this operation is per- 
 formed by dipping first into the powder a small wooden bodkin of 
 tlie thickness of a quill, and then drawing it afterwards 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 rend- 
 ing the eyes with painting. This practice is no doubt of gi;eat an- 
 tiquity ; for besides the instance already taken notice of, we find 
 that where Jezebel is said (2 Kings ix. 30) to have 2}<iinted her face, 
 the original words are, she adjusted her eyes with thejjowder of lead 
 ore.'''' — Shaw's Travels. 
 
 Note 64, p. 57. — In her full lap the Champac''s leaves of gold. 
 
 " The appearance of the blossoms of the gold-colored Campac 
 on the black hair of the Indian women has supplied the Sanscrit 
 poets with many elegant allusions." — See Asiatic Researches, 
 Vol. IV. 
 
 Note 65, p. 58. — The sweet Elcaya, and that courteous tree. 
 A tree famous for its perfume, and common on the hills of 
 Yemen. — Niebuhr. 
 
 Note 66, p. 58. — Which bows to all who seek its canopy. 
 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. 
 
 Note 07, p. 58. — The bowers of Tibet, send forth odorous light. 
 " 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.
 
 282 NOTES. 
 
 Note G8, p. 59. — With odoriferom woods of Comorin. 
 " C'est d'oii vient le bois d'alofes, que les Arabes appellent Oud 
 Comari, et celui du sandal, qui s'y trouve en grande quantity." — 
 D'Herbelot. 
 
 Note 69, p. 59. — The crimson blossoms of the coral-tree. 
 " Thousands of variegated loories visit the coral-trees." — Bar- 
 row. 
 
 Note 70, p. 59. — Mecca's blue sacred 2}igeon. 
 " In Mecca there are quantities of blue pigeons, which none 
 will affright or abuse, much less kill." — Pitt's Account of the Ma- 
 hometans. 
 
 Note 71, p. 59. — The thrush of Hindostan. 
 " 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. 
 
 Note 72, p. 59. — About the gardens, drunk with that sweet food. 
 
 Tavernier adds, that while the birds of Paradise lie in this in- 
 toxicated state, the emmets come and eat off their legs ; and that 
 hence it is they are said to have no feet. 
 
 Note 73, p. 59. — Whose scent hath lured them o'er the summer flood. 
 Birds of Paradise, which, at the nutmeg season, come in flights 
 from the southern isles to India; and "the strength of the nut- 
 meg," says Tavernier, '' so intoxicates them that they fall dead 
 drunk to the earth." 
 
 Note 74, p. 59. — Build their high nests of budding cinnamon. 
 " That bird which liveth in Arabia, and buildeth its nest with 
 cinnamon." — Brown's Vulgar Errors. 
 
 Note 75, p. GO. — Sleeping in light, like the green birds that dwell. 
 " The spirits of the martyrs will be lodged in the crops of green 
 birds." — Gibbon, Vol. IX. p. 421. 
 
 Note 70, p. 60. — More like the luxuries of thai impious King. 
 Shedad, v.ho made the delicious gardens of Irini, in imitation
 
 NOTES. 283 
 
 of Paradise, and was destroyed by lightning the first time he at- 
 tempted to enter them. 
 
 Note 77, p. 62. — In its blue blossoms hum themselves to sleep. 
 " My Pandits assure me that the plant before us (the Nilica) 
 is their Sephalica, thus named because the bees are supposed to 
 sleep on its blossoms." — Sir W. Jones. 
 
 Note 78, p. G3. — As they ivere captives to the King of Flowers. 
 " They deferred it till the King of Flowers should ascend his 
 throne of enamelled foliage." — The Bahardanush. 
 
 Note 79, p. 04. — But a light golden chain-ivork rouml her hair. 
 
 " One of the head-dresses of the Persian women is composed 
 of a light golden chain-work, set with small pearls, with a thin 
 gold plate pendent, about the bigness of a crown-piece, on which 
 is impressed an Arabian prayer, and which hangs upon the cheek 
 below the ear." — Hanway's Travels. 
 
 Note 80, p. 64. — Such as the maids of Yezd and Shiras wear. 
 
 " 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, eat the bread of Yezdecas, and drink tlie wine of Shiraz." 
 — Taveniier. 
 
 Note 81, p. 65. — Upon a musnud's edge. 
 Musnuds are cushioned seats, usually reserved for persons of 
 distinction. 
 
 Note 82, p. 05. — In the pathetic mode of Isfahan. 
 The Persians, like the ancient Greeks, call their musical modes 
 or Perdas by the names of different countries or cities, as the 
 mode of Isfahan, the mode of Irak, etc. 
 
 Note 83, p. 65. — Tlieix 's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream. 
 A river which flows near the ruins of Chilminar. 
 
 Note 84, p. 67. — The hills of crystal on the Caspian shore. 
 "To the north of us (on the coast of the Caspian, near Badku,)
 
 284 NOTES. 
 
 was a mounfain, which sparkled like diamonds, arising from the 
 sea-glass and crystals with which it abounds." — Juurney of the 
 Eiissian Ambassador to Persia, 1746. 
 
 Note 85, p. 67. — Of Eden, shahe in the eternal breeze. 
 " To which will be added the sound of the bells, hanging on 
 the trees, which will be put in motion by the wind proceeding 
 from the throne of God, as often as the blessed wish for music." — 
 Sale. 
 
 Note 86, p. 68. — And his floating eyes — oh ! they resemble. 
 " Whose wanton eyes resemble blue watei'-lilies, agitated by 
 the breeze." — Jayadeva. 
 
 J Note 87, p. 68. — Blue water-lilies. 
 
 The blue lotus, which grows in Cashmere and in Persia. 
 
 Note 88, p. 69. — To muse upon the pictures that hung round. 
 It has been generally supposed that the Mahometans prohibit 
 all pictures of animals; but Toderini shows that, though the prac- 
 tice is forbidden 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 had no objection to the intro- 
 duction of figures into painting. 
 
 Note 89, p. 70. — Wliose orb when half retired looks loveliest. 
 This is not quite astronomically true. " Dr. Hadley," sa^'S Keil, 
 "has shown that Venus is brightest when she is about forty degrees 
 removed from the sun: and that then but oidy a fourth part of her 
 lucid disk is to be seen from the earth." 
 
 Note 90, p. 70. — He read that to be blest is to be wise. 
 
 For the loves of King Solomon (who was supposed to preside 
 over the whole race of Genii) with Balkis, the Queen of Sheba, oi 
 Saba, see D'Herbelot, and the Notes on the Koran, chap. ii. 
 
 " In the palace which Solomon ordered to be built against the 
 arrival of the Queen of Saba, the tloor or pavement was of trans- 
 parent glass, laid over running water, in which fish were swim- 
 ming." This led the Queen into a very natural mistake, which
 
 NOTES. 285 
 
 the Koran lias not thought beneath its dignity to commemorate. 
 "It was said unto her, ' 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 Avith glass.' " 
 — Chap. 27. 
 
 Note 91, p. 70. — Here fond Zuleika woos ivitlt open arms. 
 
 The wife of Potiphar, thus named by the Orientals. 
 
 " The passion which this fi'ail beauty of antiquity conceived for 
 her 3'oung Hebrew slave has given rise to a much-esteemed poem 
 in the Persian language, entitled Yusef vau Zdikha, by Nourcddin 
 Janii; the manuscript copy of which, in the Bodleian Library at 
 Oxford, is supposed to be the finest in the whole world." — Note 
 upon Nott's Translation of Ilaftz. • 
 
 Note 92, p. 70. — With a new text to consecrate their love. 
 The particulai-s of Mahomet's amour with Mary, the Coptic girl, 
 in justification of which he added a new chapter to the Koran, may 
 be found in Gagnier's Notes upon Abulfeda, p. 151. 
 
 Note 93, p. 71. — But in that deep-blue, melanehohj dress. 
 " Deep blue is their mourning color." — Ilanway. 
 
 Note 94, p. 72. — Sat in her sorrow like the sweet nifjht-floiver. 
 
 The sorrowful nyctanthes, which begins to spread its rich odor 
 after sunset. 
 
 Note 95, p. 74. — As the viper weaves its icily covering. 
 " Concerning the viper.s, which Pliny says were frequent among 
 the balsam-trees, I made very particular inquiry; several were 
 brought me alive both to Yambo and Jidda." — Bruce. 
 
 Note 96, p. 80. — The sunny apples of Istlcahar. — '■ In the terri- 
 toiy of Istkahar there is a kind of apple, half of which is sweet, 
 and half sour." — Ebn Haukal. 
 
 Note 97, p. 80. — They saw a young Hindoo girl upon the hanlc. — 
 For an account of this ceremony, see Grandpre's Voyage in the 
 Indian Ocean.
 
 286 NOTES. 
 
 Note 98, p. 81. — The Okm-iala, or Sea of Stai-s. — "The place 
 where the Whangho, a river of Tibet, rises, and where there are 
 more than a hundred springs, which sparkle like stars; whence 
 it is called Hotun-nor, that is, the Sea of Stars." — Descriplion of 
 Tibet, in Pinkerton. 
 
 Note 99, p. 82. — Hath sprun;! vp here. 
 
 " 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 citj^ built 
 by enchantment. Even those who leave their houses in cities to 
 follow the prince in his progress are frequently so charmed by 
 the Lescar, when situated in a beautiful and convenient place, 
 that they cannot prevail with themselves to remove. To prevent 
 this inconvenience to the court, the Emperor, after sufficient time 
 is allowed to the tradesmen to follow, orders them to be burnt out 
 of their tents." — Dow's Hiiidostan. 
 
 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 according to the taste or means of each individual, by 
 extensive enclosures of colored calico surrounding superb suites 
 of tents; by ragged cloths or blankets stretched over sticks or 
 branches; palm leaves hastily spread over similar supports; hand- 
 some tents and splendid canopies; horses, oxen, elephants, and 
 camels; all intermixed without any exterior mark of order or 
 design, except the flags of the chiefs, which usually mark the 
 centres of a congeries of these masses; the only regular part of 
 the encampment being the streets of shops, each of which is con- 
 structed nearly in the manner of a booth at an English fair." — 
 Historical Sketches of the South of India. 
 
 Note 100, p. 82. — Built the high pillared halls of Chilminae. 
 
 The edifices of Chihninar and Balbec are supposed to have 
 been built by the Genii, acting under the orders of Jan ben Jan, 
 who governed the world long before the time of Adam.
 
 NOTES. 287 
 
 Note 101, p. 82. — And camels, tufted o'er with Yemen's shells. 
 "A superb camel, ornamented with strings and tufts of small 
 shells." — Ali Bey. 
 
 Note 102, p. 82. — But the far torrent, or the loctist-bird. 
 A native of Khorassan, and allured southward by means of 
 the water of a fountain between Shiraz and Ispahan, called the 
 Fountain of Birds, of which it is so fond that it will follow wherever 
 that water is carried. 
 
 Note 103, p. 82. — Of laden camels and their drivers' songs. 
 
 " Some of the camels have bells about their necks, and seme 
 about their legs, like those which our carriers put about their fore- 
 horses' necks, which together witli the servants (who belong to the 
 camels, and travel on foot), singing all night, make a pleasant 
 noise, and the journey passes away delightfully." — Pitt's Account 
 of the Mahometans. 
 
 " The camel-driver follows the camels, singing, and sometimes 
 playing upon his pipe; the louder he sings and pipes, the faster 
 the camels go. Nay, they will stand still when he gives over his 
 music." — Tavernicr. 
 
 Note 104, p. 8-3. — Of th' Abyssinian trumpet, swell and float. 
 " This trumpet is often called, in Abj^ssinia, nesser cano,. which 
 signifies the note of the eagle." — Note of Bruce's Editor. 
 
 Note 105, p. 83. — The Night and Shadoic, over yonder tent. 
 The two black standards borne before the Caliphs of the House 
 of Abbas were called, allegorically, The Night and The Shadow. 
 — See Gibbon. 
 
 Note 106, p. 83. — Defiance fierce at Islam. — The Mahometan 
 religion. 
 
 Note 107, p. 83. — But, having sworn upon the Holy Grave. 
 " The Persians swear by the Tomb of Shah Besade, who is 
 buried at Casbin ; and when one desires another to asseverate a 
 matter, he will ask him, if he dare swear by the Holj- Grave." — 
 Struy.
 
 288 NOTES. 
 
 Note 108, p. 84. — Were spoiled to feed the Pihjrini's luxury. 
 Mahadi, in a single pilgrimage to Mecca, expended six mil- 
 lions of dinars of gold. 
 
 Note 109, p. 84. — Of Mecca's sun, lolth urns of Persian snoio. 
 " Nivem Meccani apportavit, rem ibi aut nuniiuam aut raro 
 visam." — Abulfeda. 
 
 Note 110, p. 84. — First, in the van, the People of the Pock. 
 The inhabitants of Hejaz or Arabia Petrsea, called by au Eastern 
 •writer " The People of the Rock." — See Ebn Haukal. 
 
 Note 111, p. 84. — On their U<jht mountain steeds, of royal slock. 
 
 " Those horses, called by the Arabians Kochlani, of whom a 
 written genealogy has been kept for 2000 j'ears. They are said to 
 derive their origin from King Solomon's steeds." — Niebiihr. 
 
 Note 112, p. 84. — The flashing of their swords'' rich marqueti-y. 
 
 " Many of the figures on the blades of their swords are wrought 
 in gold or silver, or in marquetry with small gems." — Adat. 
 Misc. Vol. I. 
 
 Note 113, p. 84. — With dusJcy legions from the Land of Jlfyrrh. 
 Azab or Saba. 
 
 Note 114, p. 84. — Waving their heron crests with martial grace. 
 " The chiefs of the Uzbek Tartars wear a plume of white heron's 
 feathers in their turbans." — Account of Independent Tartary. 
 
 Note 115, p. 85. — Wild wai-riors of the turqimise hills. 
 " In the mountains of Nishapour and Tous (in Khorassan) they 
 find turquoises." — Ebn Haukal. 
 
 Note 116, p. 85. — Of Hindoo Kosh, in stormy freedom bred. 
 For a description of these stupendous ranges of mountains, see 
 Elphinstone's Caubul. 
 
 Note 117, p. 85. — Her Worshippers of Fire. 
 The Ghebers or Guebres, those original natives of Persia, who
 
 NOTES. 289 
 
 ndhered to their ancient faith, the reh'gion of Zoroaster, and who, 
 after the conquest of their country by the Arabs, were either per- 
 secuted at home, or forced to become wanderers abroad. 
 
 Note 118, p. 85. — From Yezo's eternal Mansion of the Fire. 
 
 " Yezd, the chief residence of those ancient natives, who worship 
 the Sun and the Fire, which latter they have carefully kept 
 lighted, without being once extinguished for a moment, about 
 3000 years, on a mountain near Yezd, called Ater Quedah, signify- 
 ing the House or Mansion of the Fire. He is reckoned very unfor- 
 tunate who dies off that mountain." — Stephen's Persia. 
 
 Note 119, p. 85. — That burn into the Casfiais, Jierce they came. 
 " When the weather is haz}^, the springs of Naphtha (on an 
 island near Baku) boil up the higher, and the Naphtha often takes 
 fire on the surface of the earth, and runs in a flame into the sea to a 
 distance almost incredible." — Hanway ojj the Everlasting Fire at 
 Baku. 
 
 Note 120, p. 86. — By which the j^rosirate Caravan is awed. 
 Savarj"- says of the south wind, which blows in Egypt from 
 February to May, " Sometimes it appears only in the shape of an 
 impetuous whirlwind, which passes rapidly, and is fatal to the trav- 
 eller, surprised in the middle of the deserts. Torrents of burning 
 sand roll before it, the firmament is enveloped in a thick veil, and 
 the sun appears of the color of blood. Sometimes whole caravans 
 are buried in it." 
 
 Note 121, p. 86. — The Cliamjnons of the Faith through Bedeu's 
 vale. 
 In the great victory gained by Mahomet at Beder, he was 
 assisted, say the Mussulmans, by three thousand angels, led by 
 Gabriel, mounted on his horse Hiazum. — See The Koran and its 
 Commentators. 
 
 Note 122, p. 88. — ''Alia Akbar ! " 
 The Tecbir, or cry of the Arabs. "Alia Acbar! " says Ock- 
 ley, means, " God is most mighty." 
 19
 
 290 NOTES. 
 
 Note 123, p. 88. — And lujht your shrines and chcnnii your ziraleets. 
 The ziraleet is a kind of chorus, which the women of the East 
 sing upon joyful occasions. — Russel. 
 
 Note 124, p. 88. — Or ivarm or bi-ighten, — like that Syrian Lake. 
 The Dead Sea, which contains neither animal nor vegetable life. 
 
 Note 125, p. 90. — O'er his lost throne — tlien passed the Jihon's 
 Jlood. 
 The ancient Oxus. 
 
 Note 126, p. 90. — Raised the tohite banner loitliin Neksheb's gates. 
 A city of Transoxiana. 
 
 Note 127, p. 90. — To-day'' s young flower is springing in its stead. 
 
 " You never can cast your eyes on this tree, but you meet 
 there either blossoms or fruit; and as the blossom drops under- 
 neatli on the ground (which is frequently covered with these pur- 
 ple-colored flowers), others come forth in their stead," etc., etc. — 
 Nieuhoff. 
 
 Note 128, p. 91. — With which the JDives have gifted him. 
 The Demons of the Persian mythology. 
 
 Note 120, p. 91. — TJiat spangle ItiTMA'sflelds on showery nights. 
 Carreri mentions the fire-flies in India during the rainy sea- 
 son. — See his Travels. 
 
 Note 130, p. 91. — Who brushed the thousands of tV Assyrian King. 
 
 Sennacherib, called by the Orientals King of jMoussal. — D'Her- 
 belot. 
 
 Note 131, p. 92.— Of Parviz. 
 
 Chosroes. For the description of his Throne or Palace, see Gib- 
 bon and D'Herbelot. 
 
 There were said to be under this Throne or Palace of Khosrou 
 Parviz a hundred vaults filled with " treasures so immense that 
 some Mahometan writers tell us, their Prophet, to encourage his 
 discii:)les, carried them to a rock, which at his command opened,
 
 NOTES. 291 
 
 and gave them a prospect through it of the treasures of Khosrou." 
 — Vninersal History. 
 
 Note 132, p. 92. — And the heron crest that shone. 
 "The crown of Gerashid is cloudy and tarnished before the 
 heron tuft of thy turban." — From one of the elegies or songs in 
 praise of Ali, written in characters of gold round the gallery of 
 Abbas's tomb. — See Chardin. 
 
 Note 133, p. 92. — Magnificent, o'er Ali's beauteous eyes. 
 The beautj'^ of All's eyes was so remarkable, that -whenever 
 the Persians would describe anything as very lovely, they say it is 
 Ayn Hali, or the Eyes of Ali. — Chardin. 
 
 Note 134, p. 93. — Rise from the Holy Well, and cast its light. 
 We are not told more of this trick of the Impostor, than that 
 it was " une machine, qu'il disoit etre la Lune." According to 
 Richardson, the miracle is perpetuated in Nekscheb. " Nakshab, 
 the name of a city in Transoxiana, where they-say there is a well, 
 in which the appearance of the moon is to be seen night and day." 
 
 Note 135, p. 93. — Rowiul the rich city and the plain foi- miles. 
 "II amusa pendant deux mois le peuple de la ville de Nekh- 
 scheb, en faisant sortir toutes les nuits du fond d'un puits un corps 
 lumineux semblable a la Lune, qui portoit sa lumifere jusqu'a la 
 distance de plusieurs milles." — D'Herbelot. Hence he was called 
 Sazend^hmah, or the Moon-maker. 
 
 Note 136, p. 93. — Had rested on the Arlc. 
 The Shechinah, called Sakinat in the Koran. — See Sale's Note, 
 chap. ii. 
 
 Note 137, p. 93. — Of the small drum ivit.h ichich they count the night. 
 The parts of the night are made known as well by instru- 
 ments of music, as by the rounds of the watchmen with cries and' 
 small drums. — See Burder's Oriental Customs, Vol. I. p. 119. 
 
 Note 138, p. 93. — On for the lamps that light yon lofty screen. 
 The Serrapurda, high screens of red cloth, stiffened with cane,
 
 292 NOTES. 
 
 used to enclose a considerable space round the royal tents. — Notes 
 on the Bdliardanush. 
 
 The tents of Princes were generally illuminated. Norden tells 
 us that the tent of the Bey of Girge was distinguished from the 
 other tents by forty lanterns being suspended before it. — See 
 Harmer's Observations on Job. 
 
 Note 139, p. 94. — Pour to the spot, like bees of Kauzekoon. 
 " From the groves of orange-trees at Kauzeroon the bees cull 
 a celebrated honey." — Morier's Travels. 
 
 Note 140, p. 96. — Of nuptial pomp, she sinJcs into Ms tide. 
 " A custom still subsisting at this day, seems to me to prove 
 that the Eg^'ptians formerly sacrificed a young virgin to the God 
 of the Nile ; for they now make a statue of earth in shape of a girl, 
 to which thej' give the name of the Betrothed Bride, and throw it 
 into the river." — Savary. 
 
 Note 141, p. 96. — Engines of havoc in, unknown before. 
 
 That they knew the secret of the Greek fire among the 
 ^Mussulmans early in the eleventh century, appeal's from Dow's 
 Account of Mainood I. " When he arrived at Moultan, finding 
 that the country of the Jits was defended hy great rivers, he or- 
 dered fifteen bundred boats to be built, each of which he armed 
 with six iron spikes, projecting from their prows and sides, to pre- 
 vent their being boarded by the enemy, who were very expert in 
 that kind of war. When he had launched this fleet, he ordered 
 twenty archers into each boat, and five others with fire-balls, to 
 burn the craft of the Jits, and naphtha to set the whole river on 
 fire." 
 
 The agnee aster, too, in Indian poems the Instrument of fire, 
 whose flame cannot be extinguished, is supposed to signify the 
 Greek fire. — See Wilks's South of India, Vol. I. p. 471. — And in 
 the curious Javan poem, the Brata Yudha, given by Sir Stamford 
 Raffles in his History of Java, we find, " He aimed at the heart of 
 Soeta with the sharp-pointed Weapon of Fire." 
 
 The mention of gunpowder as in use among the Arabians, long 
 before its supposed discovery in Europe, is introduced by Ebn 
 Fadhl, the Egyptian geographer, who lived in the thirteenth cen-
 
 NOTES. 293 
 
 tury. " Bodies," he says, " in the form of scorpions, bound round 
 and filled with nitrous powder, glide along, making a gentle 
 noise; then, exploding, they lighten, as it were, and burn. But 
 there are others which, cast into the air, stretch along like a cloud, 
 roaring horribly, as thunder roars, and on all sides A'omiting out 
 flames, burst, burn, and reduce to cinders whatever comes in their 
 way." The historian Ben Abdalla, in speaking of the sieges of 
 Abulualid, in the year of the Ilegira 712, says, " A fiery globe, by 
 means of combustible matter, with a mighty noise suddenly emitted, 
 strikes with the force of lightning, and shakes the citadel." — See 
 the extracts from Casiri's Biblioth. Arab. Ilispan. in the Appendix 
 to Berington's Literary History of the Middle Ages. 
 
 Note 142, p. 96. — And horrible as new ; — javelins, thai fly. 
 The Greek fire, which was occasionally lent by the emperors 
 to their allies. " It was," says Gibbon, " either launched in red- 
 hot balls of stone and iron, or darted in arrows or javelins, 
 twisted round with flax and tow, which had deepl}^ imbibed the 
 inflammable oil." 
 
 Note 143, p. 96. — Discharge, as from a kindled Naphtha fount. 
 See Hanway's Account of the Springs of Naphtha at Baku 
 (which is called by Lieutenant Pottinger Joala Mokee, or, the 
 Flaming Mouth) taking fire and running into the sea. Dr. Cooke, 
 in his Journal, mentions some wells in Circassia, strongly impreg- 
 nated with this inflammable oil, from which issues boiling water. 
 " Though the weather," he adds, " was now ver^^ cold, the warmth 
 of these wells of hot water produced near them the verdure and 
 flowers of spring." 
 
 Major Scott Waring says, that naphtha is used by the Persians, 
 as we are told it was in hell, for lamps. 
 
 " many a row 
 
 Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed 
 
 With naphtha and aspbaltus, yielding light 
 
 As from a sky." 
 
 Note 144, p. 96. — Like those luild birds that by the Magians oft. 
 " At the great festival of fire, called the Sheb Seze, they used 
 to set fire to large bunches of dry combustibles, fastened round
 
 294 NOTES. 
 
 ■wild beasts and birds, which being then let loose, the air and earth 
 appeared one great illiimiuation ; and as these terrified creatures 
 naturally fled to the woods for shelter, it is easy to conceive the 
 conflagrations they produced." — Richardson's Dissertation. 
 
 Note 145, p. 98. — Keep, sealed loith precious mush, for those they 
 love. 
 " The righteous shall be given to drink of pure wine, sealed ; the 
 seal whereof shall be musk." — Koran, chap. Ixxxiii. 
 
 Note 146, p. 101. — On its own brood ; — no Demon of the Waste. 
 " The Afghauns believe each of the numerous solitudes and 
 deserts of their country to be inhabited by a lonelj- demon, whom 
 they call the Ghoolee Beeabau, or Spirit of the Waste. Thej^ often 
 illustrate the wildness of any sequestered tribe, by saying, they are 
 wild as the Demon of the Waste." — Elphinstone's Caubul. 
 
 Note 147, p. 103. — With burning drugs, for this last hour distilled. 
 " II donna du poison dans le vin a tons ses gens, et se jetta 
 lui-meme ensuite dans mie cuve pleine de drogues brulantes et 
 consumantes, afin qu'il ne restat rien de tous les membres de son 
 corps, et que ceux qui restoient de sa secte puissent croire qu'il 
 ^toit mont^ au ciel. ce qui ne manqua pas d'arriver." — D'Herbelot. 
 
 Note 148, p. 104. — /n the Lone Cities of the Silent dwell. 
 " They have all a great reverence for burial-grounds, which 
 thej- sometimes call by the poetical name of Cities of the Silent, 
 and which they people with the ghosts of the departed, who sit 
 each at the head of his own grave, invisible to mortal eyes." — 
 Elphinstone. 
 
 Note 149, p. 109. — And to eat any mangoes but those of Mazagong 
 was, of course, impossible. — " The celebrity of Mazagong is owing 
 to its mangoes, which are certainly the best fruit I ever tasted. 
 The parent-tree, from which all those of this species have been 
 grafted, is honored during the fruit-season by a guard of sepoys; 
 and, in the reign of Shah Jehan, couriers were stationed between 
 Delhi and the Mahratta coast, to secure an abundant and fresh 
 supply of mangoes for the roval table." — Mrs. Graham's Journal 
 of a Residence in India.
 
 NOTES. 295 
 
 Note 150, p. 109. — Laden with las fine antique j^orcelain. — This 
 old porcelain is found in digging, and " if it is esteemed, it is not 
 because it has acquired any new degree of beauty in the earth, 
 but because it has retained its ancient beauty; and this alone is of 
 great importance in China, where they give large sums for the 
 smallest vessels which Avere used under the Emperors Yan and 
 Chun, who reigned many ages before the dynasty of Tang, at 
 which time porcelain began to be used by the Emperors" (about 
 the year 442). — Dunn's Collection of Curious Observations, etc.; 
 — d bad translation of some parts of the Leftres Edifiantes et 
 Curieuses of the Missionary Jesuits. 
 
 Note 151, p. 111. — And if Nasser, the Arabian merchant, told no 
 better. — " La lecture de ces Fables plaisoit si fort aux Arabes, que, 
 quand Mahomet les entretenoit de I'llistoire de I'Ancien Testa- 
 ment, ils les m^prisoient, lui disant que celles que Nasser leur 
 racontoit ^toient beaucoup plus belles. Cette preference attira a 
 Nasser la mak'diction de Mahomet et de tous ses disciples." — 
 D'Herbelot. 
 
 Note 152, p. 111. — Like the blacksmith's apron converted into a 
 banner. — The blacksmith Gao, who successfully resisted the tyrant 
 Zohak, and whose apron became the Royal Standard of Persia. 
 
 Note 153, p. 113. — That sid)lime bird, which flies always in the air, 
 and never touches the earth. — "The Huma, a bird peculiar to the 
 East. It is supposed to fly constantly in the air, and never touch 
 the gi'ound; it is looked upon as a bird of happy omen; and that 
 every head itovershades vrill in time wear a crown." — Richardson. 
 
 In the terms of alliance made by Fuzzel Oola Khan with Hyder 
 in 1760, one of the stipulations was, " that he should have the dis- 
 tinction of two honorary attendants standing behind him, holding 
 fans composed of the feathers of the Humma, according to the prac- 
 tice of his family." — Wilks's South of India. He adds in a note: 
 " The Humma is a fabulous bird. The head over which its 
 shadow once passes will assuredly be circled with a crown. The 
 splendid little bird suspended over the throne of Tippoo Sultaun, 
 found at Seringapatara in 1799, was intended to represent this 
 poetical fancy."
 
 296 NOTES. 
 
 Note 154, p. 114. — Like those on the Written Mountain, last for- 
 ever. — "To the pilgrims to Mount Sinai we must attribute the in- 
 scriptions, figures, etc., on those rocks, which have from thence 
 acquired the name of the Written Mountain." — Volney. M. 
 Gebelin and others have been at much pains to attach some mys- 
 terious and important meaning to these inscriptions; but Niebuhr, 
 as well as Volney, thinks that they must have been executed at 
 idle hours by the travellers to Mount Sinai, " who were satisfied 
 with cutting the unpolished rock with any pointed instrument; 
 adding to their names and the date of their journeys some rude 
 figures, which bespeak tlie hand of a people but little skilled in 
 the arts." — Niebuhr. 
 
 Note 15.5, p. 114. — Like the Old Man of the Sea, upon his back. 
 
 — The Story of Sindbad. 
 
 Note 15G, p. 115. — To which Hafez compares his mistress's hair. 
 
 — See Nott's Ilnfez, Ode v. 
 
 Note 157, p. 115. — To the Cdmalatd, hy whose rosy blossotns the 
 heaven of Indra is scented. — " The Camalata (called by Linnaeus, 
 Ipomaea) is the most beautiful of its order, both in the color and 
 form of its leaves and flowers ; its elegant blossoms are ' celestial 
 rosy red, Love's proper hue,' and have justly procured it the name 
 of Camalata, or Love's Creeper." — Sir W. Jones. 
 
 " Camalata may also mean a mythological plant, by which all 
 desires are granted to such as inhabit the heaven of Indra; and if 
 ever flower was worthy of paradise, it is our charming Ipomtea." — 
 Ibid. 
 
 Note 158, p. 115. — That Floioer-loving Nymph whom they wor- 
 ship in the temples of Kathay. — " According to Father Preniare, in 
 his tract on Chinese RIythology, the mother of Fo-hi was the 
 daughter of heaven, surnamed Flower-loving; and as the nymph 
 was walking alone on the bank of a river, she found herself en- 
 circled by a rainbow, after which she became pregnant, and, at 
 the end of twelve years, was delivered of a son radiant as herself." 
 
 — Asiat. Res.
 
 NOTES. 297 
 
 Note 159, p. 116. — With its jilane-tree Isle reflected clear. 
 " Numerous small islands emerge from the Lake of Cashmere. 
 One is called Char <Jheiiaur, from the plane-trees upon it." — Fos- 
 ter. 
 
 Note 160, p. 117. — And the golden floods that thitherward stray. 
 
 " The Altan Kol, or Golden River, of Tibet, which runs into 
 the Lakes of Sing-su-ha3% has abundance of gold in its sands, 
 which employs the inhabitants all the summer in gathering it." — 
 Descnjjtion of Tibet, in Plnkerton. 
 
 Note 161, p. 117. — Blooms nowhere but in Paradise. 
 " The Brahmins of this province insist that the blue campac 
 flowers only in Paradise." — Sir W. Jones. It appears, however, 
 from a curious letter of the Sultan of Menangcabow, given by 
 Marsden, that one place on earth may la}' claim to the possession 
 of it. " This is the Sultan, who keeps the flower champaka that 
 is blue, and to be found in no other country but his, being yellow 
 elsewhere." — Marsden's Sumatra. 
 
 Note 162, p. 118. — Flung at nifjhtfroin angel hands. 
 " The Mahometans suppose that falling stars are the firebrands 
 wherewith the good angels drive away the bad, when they apjHoach 
 too near the empyrean or verge of the heavens." — Fryer. 
 
 Note 163, p. 118. — Beneath the pillars of Chilminae. 
 The Forty Pillars; so the Persians call the ruins of Persep- 
 olis. It is imagined by them that this palace and the edifices at 
 Balbec were built \iv Genii, for the purpose of hiding in their sub- 
 terraneous caverns immense treasures, which still remain there. — 
 See D'Herbelot and Volney. 
 
 Note 164, p. 118. — To the south of sun-hright Arab>j. 
 
 The Isles of Panchaia. 
 
 Diodorus mentions the Isle of Panchaia, to the south of Arabia 
 Felix, where there was a temple of Jupiter. This island, or rather 
 cluster of isles, has disappeared; "sunk," says Grandpre, "in the 
 abyss made by the fire beneath their foundations." — Voyage to the 
 Indian Ocean.
 
 298 NOTES. 
 
 Note 1G5, p. 118. — The jewelled cup of their King Jamshid. 
 " The cup of Jamshid, discovered, they Bay, when digging for 
 the foundations of Persepolis." — Kichardson. 
 
 Note 16G, p. 118. — O'ev coral rocks, and amber beds. 
 " It is not like the Sea of India, whose bottom is rich with 
 pearls and ambergris, whose mountains of the coast are stored with 
 gold and precious stones, whose gulfs breed creatures that yield 
 ivory, and among the plants of whose shores are ebony, red -wood, 
 and the wood of Hairzan, aloes, camphor, cloves, sandal-wood, and 
 all other spices and aromatics; where parrots and peacocks are 
 birds of the forest, and musk and civet are collected upon the 
 lands." — Travels of Two Mohammedans. 
 
 Note 1G7, p. 119. — Thy Pagods and thy pillared shades. 
 
 ' ' in the ground 
 
 The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow 
 
 About the mother-tree, a pillared shade, 
 
 High over-arched, and echoing walks between." 
 
 JIjlton. 
 
 For a particular description and plate of the Banyan-tree, see 
 Cordiner's Ceylon. 
 
 Note 168, p. 119. — Thy Monarchs and their thousand Thrones. 
 
 " With this immense treasure Mahmood returned to Ghizni, and 
 in the year 400 prepared a magnificent festival, where he dis- 
 plaj'ed to the people his wealth in golden thrones and in other 
 ornaments, in a great plain without the city of Ghizni." — Fe- 
 rishia. 
 
 Note 1G9, p. 119. — ^ T is He of Gazna — fierce in loratli. 
 "Mahmood of Gazna, or Ghizni, who conquered India in the 
 beginning of the 11th century." — See his History in Dow and Sir 
 J. Malcolm. 
 
 Note 170, p. 119. — Of many a young and loved Sultana. 
 "It is reported that the hunting equipnge of the Sultan Mah- 
 mood was so magnificent, that he kept 400 greyhounds and blood-
 
 NOTES. 299 
 
 hounds, each of which wore a collar set with jewels, and a cov- 
 ering edged with gold and pearls." — Universal Hislorij^ Vol. III. 
 
 Note 171, p. 120. — For Liberty shed, so holy is. 
 Objections may be made to my use of the word Liberty in 
 this, and more especially in the story that follows it, as totally 
 inapplicable to any state of things that has ever existed in the 
 East; but though I cannot, of course, mean to employ it in that 
 enlarged and noble sense which is so well understood at the pres- 
 ent day, and, I grieve to say, so little acted upon, yet it is no dis- 
 paragement to the word to apply it to that national independence, 
 that freedom from' the interference and dictation of foreigners, 
 without which, indeed, no liberty of any kind can exist; and fbr 
 which both Hindoos and Persians fought against their Mussulman 
 invaders with, in manj' cases, a bravery that deserved much better 
 success. 
 
 Note 172, p. 121. — Now among Afric's lunar Mountains. 
 
 " The Mountains of the Moon, or the Montes Lunae of antiq- 
 uitj', at the foot of which the Nile is supposed to rise." — Bruce. 
 
 "Sometimes called," saj's Jackson, " Jibbel Kunirie, or the 
 white or lunar-colored mountains; so a white horse is called by the 
 Arabians a moon-colored horse." 
 
 Note 173, p. 121. — And hail the nnc-born Giant's smile. 
 " The Nile, which the Abyssinians know by the names of Abey 
 and Alawy, or the Giant." — Asiat. Research. Vol. I. p. -387. 
 
 Note 174, p. 121. — Her grots, and sejmlchrcs of Kings. 
 See Perry's View of the Levant for an account of the sepul- 
 chres in Upper Thebes, and the numberless grots, covered all over 
 with hieroglyphics, in the mountains of Upper Egj'pt. 
 
 Note 175, p. 121. — In warm Rosetta's vale — now loves. 
 " The orchards of Eosetta are filled with turtle-doves." — Sou- 
 nini. 
 
 Note 176, p. 122. — The azure calm of Mceris' Lake. 
 Savary mentions the pelicans upon Lake Moeris.
 
 800 NOTES. 
 
 Note 177, p. 122. — Warns them to their silken beds. 
 " The superb date-tree, whose head languidly reclines, like that 
 of a handsome woman overcome with sleep." — Dafard el Hadad. 
 
 Note 178, p. 122. — Some puriAe-winged Sultana sitting. 
 " That beautiful bird, with plumage of the finest shining blue, 
 with purple beak and legs, the natural and living ornament of the 
 temples and palaces of the Greeks and Romans, which, from the 
 stateliness of its port, as well as the brilliancy of its colors, has 
 obtained the title of Sultana." — Sonnini. 
 
 Note 179, p. 123. — Only the fierce hyena stalks. 
 Jackson, speaking of the plague that occurred in West Barbary 
 when he was there, says, " The birds of the air fled away from the 
 abodes of men. The hyenas, on the contrary, visited the ceme- 
 teries," etc. 
 
 Note 180, p. 123. — Throughout the city's desolate walks. 
 " Gondar was full of hyenas from the time it turned dark till the 
 dawn of daj', seeking the different pieces of slaughtered carcasses, 
 which this cruel and unclean people expose in the streets without 
 burial, and who firmly believe that these animals are Falashta from 
 the neighboring mountains, transformed by magic, and come down 
 to eat human flesh in the dark in safety." — Bruce. 
 
 Note 181, p. 123. — The glaring of those large blue eyes. — Bruce. 
 
 Note 182, p. 125. — But see — who yonder comes by stealth. 
 This circumstance has been often introduced into poetry ; — by 
 Vincentius Fabric! us, by Darwin, and lately, with very powerful 
 effect, by Mr. Wilson. 
 
 Note 183, p. 127. — Who sings at the last his own death-lay. 
 " In the East, they suppose the Phoenix to have fifty orifices in 
 his bill, which are continued to his tail; and that, after living one 
 thousand years, he builds himself a funeral pile, sings a melodious 
 air of difterent harmonies through his fifty organ pipes, flaps his 
 wings with a velocity which sets fire to the Avood, and consumes 
 himself." — Richardson.
 
 NOTES. 301 
 
 Note 184, p. 128. - Their frst sweet drauf/M of glory take. 
 " On the shores of a quadrangular lake stand a thousand goblets, 
 made of stars, out of which souls predestined to enjoj' felicity drink 
 the crystal wave." — From Chateaubriand's Description of the 
 Mahometan Paradise, in his Beauties of Christianity. 
 
 Note 185, p. 128. — Now, upon Syria's land of roses. 
 Richardson thinks that Sj'ria had its name from Suri, a beautiful 
 and delicate species of rose, forwiiich that country has been always 
 famous; — hence, Suristan, the Land of Eoses. 
 
 Note 186, p. 129. — Gay lizards, glittering on the loalls. 
 " The number of lizards I saw one day in the great court of the 
 Temple of the Sun at Balbec amounted to many thousands; the 
 ground, the walls, and stones of the ruined buildings, were covered 
 with them." — Bruce. 
 
 Note 187, p. 129. — Of shepherd^s ancient reed. 
 "The Syrinx, or Pan's pipe, is still a pastoral instrument iu 
 Syria." — Russel. 
 
 Note 188, p. 129. — Of the wild bees of Palestine. 
 " Wild bees, frequent in Palestine, in hollow trunks or branches 
 of trees, and the clefts of rocks. Thus it is said (Psalm Ixxxi.) 
 ^ honey out of the stony roch.' " — Burder's Oriental Customs. 
 
 Note 189, p. 129. — And woods, so full of nightingales. 
 " The river Jordan is on both sides beset with little, thick, and 
 pleasant woods, among which thousands of nightingales warble all 
 together." — Thevenot. 
 
 Note 190, p. 129. — On that great Temple, once his own. 
 The Temple of the Sun at Balbec. 
 
 Note 191, p. 130. — The beautiful blue damsel-flies. 
 "You behold there a considerable number of a remarkable spe- 
 cies of beautiful insects, the elegance of whose appearance and 
 their attire procured for them the name of Damsels." — Sonnini.
 
 302 NOTES. 
 
 Note 192, p. 130. — Of a small imareVs rvsiic fount. 
 Imaret, " hospice oil on loge et nourrit, gratis, les pt^lerins pen- 
 dant trois jours." — Toderini, translated by the Abb^ de Cournand. 
 See also Castellan's Maurs des Olhomaiis, Tom. V. p. 145. 
 
 Note 193, p. 132. — Kneels, with his forehead to the south. 
 " Such Turks as at the common hours of praj-er are on the road, 
 or so employed as not to find convenience to attend the mosques, 
 are still obliged to execute that duty; nor are they ever known to 
 fail, whatever business they are then about, but pray immediately 
 when the hour alarms them, whatever they are about, in that very 
 place they chance to stand on; insomuch that when a janissary, 
 whom you have to guard you up and down the city, hears the 
 notice which is given him from the steeples, he will turn about, 
 stand still, and beckon with his hand, to tell his charge he must 
 have patience for a while; when, taking out his handkerchief, he 
 spreads it on the ground, sits cross-legged thereupon, and says his 
 prayers, though in the open Market, which, having ended, he leaps 
 briskly up, salutes the person whom he undertook to convey, and 
 renews his journey with the mild expression of Ghell gohnnum ghell, 
 or. Come, dear, follow me." — Aaron Hill's Travels. 
 
 Note 194, p. 133. — Ujwn Egypt's land, of so healing a power. 
 
 The Nucta, or Miraculous Drop, which falls in Egypt precisely 
 on St. John's Daj^, in June, and is supposed to have the effect of 
 stopping the plague. 
 
 Note 195, p. 134. — Are the diamond turrets of Shadukiam. 
 The Country of Delight — the name of a province in the king- 
 dom of Jinnistan, or Fairy Land, the capital of which is called the 
 City of Jewels. Amberabad is another of the cities of Jinnistan. 
 
 Note 196, p. 134. — My feast is now of the Tooha Tree. 
 The tree Tooba, that stands in Paradise, in the palace of Ma- 
 homet. See Sale's Prelim. Disc. — Tooba, says D'Herbelot, signi- 
 fies beatitude, or eternal happiness. 
 
 Note 197, p. 134. — To the hte-iree, springing by Alla's throne. 
 Mahomet is described, in the 53d chapter of the Koran, as hav-
 
 NOTES. 303 
 
 ing seen the Angel Gabriel " by the lote-tree, beyond which there 
 is no passing: near it is the Garden of Eternal Abode." This tree, 
 say the commentators, stands in the seventh Heaven, on the right 
 hand of the Throne of God. 
 
 Note 198, p. 135. — As ihelmmlred and twenty thousand Streams of 
 Basra. — " It is said that the rivers or streams of Basra were reck- 
 oned in the time of Pelal ben Abi Bordeh, and amounted to the num- 
 ber of one hundred and twenty thousand streams." — Ebn Haukal. 
 
 Note 199, p. 1-3G. — Tf7jo, like them, flung the jereed carelessly. — 
 The name of the javelin with which the Easterns exercise. See 
 Castellan, Maurs des Othomans, Tom. III. p. 161. 
 
 Note 200, p. 130. — The Banyan Hospital. — " This account ex- 
 cited a desire of visiting the Banyan Hospital, as I had heard much 
 of their benevolence to all kinds of animals that were either siclv, 
 lame, or infirm, through age or accident. On mj' arrival, there 
 were presented to my view many horses, cows, and oxen, in one 
 apartment; in another, dogs, sheep, goats, and monkeys, with clean 
 straw for them to repose on. Above stairs were depositories for 
 seeds of many sorts, and flat, broad dishes for water, for the use of 
 birds and insects." — Parson's Travels. 
 
 It is said that all animals know the Banyans, that tho most timid 
 approach them, and that birds will fly nearer to Ihem tlian to other 
 people. — See Grandpr(J. 
 
 Note 201, p. 137. — Like that of the fragrant grass near the 
 Ganges. — "A very fragrant grass from the banks of the Ganges, 
 near Heridwar, which in some places covers whole acres, and dif- 
 fuses, when crushed, a strong odor." — Sir W. Jones, on the Spike- 
 nard of the Ancients. 
 
 Note 202, p. 137. — No one had ever yet reached its summit. — 
 " Near this is a curious hill, called Koh Talism, the ^Mountain of the 
 Talisman, because, according to the traditions of the country, no 
 person ever succeeded in gaining its summit." — Kinncir. 
 
 Note 203, p. 138. — Is icarmed into life by the eyes alone. — " The
 
 304 NOTES. 
 
 Arabians believe that the ostriches hatcli their young by only look- 
 ing at them." — P. A^anslebe, Relat. cVEyyi^te. 
 
 Note 204, p. 139. — And then lost them again forever. — See Sale's 
 Koran, note, Vol. II. p. 484. 
 
 Note 205, p. 139. — While the artisans in chariots. — Oriental 
 Tales. 
 
 Note 206, p. 140. — Who hcpt ivaving over their heads plates of 
 gold and silver flowers. — Ferishia. " Or rather," says Scott, upon 
 the passage of Ferishta from which this is taken, " small coins, 
 stamped with the figure of a flower. They are still used in India 
 to distribute in charity, and, on occasion, thrown by the purse- 
 bearers of the great among the populace." 
 
 Note 207, p. 140. — Alley of trees. — The fine road made hj the 
 Emperor Jehan-Guire from Agra to Lahore, planted with trees on 
 each side. This road is 250 leagues in length. It has " little pyra- 
 mids, or turrets," says Fernier, " erected every half league, to mark 
 the ways, and frequent wells to afford di'ink to passengers, and to 
 water the young trees." 
 
 Note 208, p. 142. — That favorite tree of the luxurious bird that 
 lights up the channels of its nest with fireflies. — The Baya, or In- 
 dian Gross-beak. — Sir \V. Jones. 
 
 Note 209, p. 142. — On the clear cold waters of which floated mid- 
 titudes of the beautiful red lotus. — " Here is a large pagoda by a 
 tank, on the water of which float multitudes of the beautiful red 
 lotus; the flower is larger than that of the white water-lily, and is 
 the most lovely of the nymphteas I have seen." — Mrs. Graham's 
 Journal of a Residence in India. 
 
 Note 210, p. 143. — Had fled hither from their Arab conquerors. 
 — " On les voit pers(f'cut(5s par les Khalifes se retirer dans les mon- 
 tagnes du Kerman : plusieurs choisirent pour retraite la Tartaric et 
 la Chine; d'autres s'arreterent sur les bords du Gange, a Test do 
 Delhi." — M. Anquetil, Mcmoires de V Academie, Tom. XXXI. p. 
 346.
 
 NOTES. 305 
 
 Note 211, p. 143. — Like their own Fire in the Burning Field at 
 Bahou. — The "Ager ardens " described by Ksempfer, ^mtewiiai. 
 Exot. 
 
 Note 212, p. 143. — The prey of strangers. — "Cashmere," say 
 its historians, " had its own princes 4000 years before its conquest 
 by Akbar in 1585. Akbar would have found some difficulty to re- 
 duce this paradise of the Indies, situated as it is within such a for- 
 tress of mountains, but its monarch, Yusef-Khan, was basely be- 
 trayed by his Omrahs." — Pennant. 
 
 Note 213, p. 144. — Fire-worshippers. — Voltaire tells us that in 
 his Traged}', " Les Guebres," he was generally supposed to have 
 alluded to the Jansenists. I should not be surprised if this story 
 of the Fire-worshippers were found capable of a similar doubleness 
 of application. 
 
 Note 214, p. 145. — ^Tis moonlight over Oman's sea. 
 
 The Persian Gulf, sometimes so called, which separates the shores 
 of Persia and Arabia. 
 
 Note 215, p. 145. — ' T'l's moonlight in Harmozia's walls. 
 The present Gombaroon, a town on the Persian side of the Gulf. 
 
 Note 216, p. 145. — Of trumpet and the clash ofzel. 
 A Moorish instrument of music. 
 
 Note 217, p. 145. — The wind-totver on the Emir's dome. 
 " At Gombaroon and other places in Persia, they have towers for 
 the purpose of catching the wind, and cooling the houses." — Le 
 Bruyn. 
 
 Note 218, p. 146. — His race hath brought on Iran's name. 
 " Iran is the true general name for the empire of Persia." — 
 Asiat. Ees. Disc. 5. 
 
 Note 219, p. 146. — Engraven on his reeJcing sword. 
 " On the blades of their scimitars some verse from the Koran is 
 usually inscribed." — Russel. 
 20
 
 306 ' NOTES. 
 
 Note 220, p. 146. — Draw venom forth that drives men mad. 
 " There is a kind of Rhododendros about Trebizond, whose flow- 
 ers the bee feeds upon, and the honey thence drives people mad." 
 — Tournefort. 
 
 Note 221, p. 147. — Z7/w« the turian of a king. 
 " Their kings wear plumes of black herons' feathers upon the 
 right side, as a badge of sovereignty." — Hanway. 
 
 Note 222, p. 148. — Springing in a desolate mountain. 
 " The Fountain of Youth, by a Mahometan tradition, is situated 
 m some dark region of the East." — Eichardson. 
 
 Note 223, p. 149. — On summer-eves, through Yemen's dales. 
 Arabia Felix. 
 
 Note 224, p. 149. — Wlio, lulled in cool kiosk or bower. 
 " In the mid.st of the garden is the chiosk, that is, a large room, 
 commonly beautified with a fine fountain in the midst of it. It is 
 raised nine or ten steps, and enclosed with gilded lattices, round 
 which vines, jessamines, and honeysuckles, make a sort of green 
 wall; large trees are planted round this place, which is the scene 
 of their greatest pleasures." — Lady M. W. Montague. 
 
 Note 225, p. 145. — Before their mirrors count the time. 
 The women of the East are never without their looking-glasses. 
 "In Barbary," says Shaw, "they are so fond of their looking- 
 glasses, which they hang upon their breasts, that they will not lay 
 them aside, even when after the drudgery of the day they are 
 obliged to go two or three miles with a pitcher or a goat's skin to 
 fetch water." — Travels. 
 
 In other parts of Asia they wear little looking-glasses on their 
 thumbs. "Hence (and from the lotus being considered the emblem 
 of beauty) is the meaning of the following mute intercom-se of two 
 lovers before their parents : — 
 
 " ' He, with salute of deference due, 
 A lotus to his forehead prest ; 
 She raised her mirror to his view, 
 
 Then turned it inward to her breast.' " 
 
 Asiatic Miscellany , Vol. H.
 
 NOTES. 307 
 
 Note 226, p. 149. — Uijon the emeralcVs virgin blaze. 
 " They say that if a snake or serpent fix his eyes on the lustre 
 of those stones (emeralds), he immediately becomes blind." — 
 Ahmed ben Abdalaziz, Treatise on Jewels. , 
 
 Note 227, p. 150. — After the day-heam's withering fire. 
 " At Gombaroon and the Isle of Ormus it is sometimes so hot 
 that the people are obliged to lie all day in the water." — Marco 
 Polo. 
 
 Note 228, p. 151. — Of Araeat's tremendous peah. 
 This mountain is generally supposed to be inaccessible. Struy 
 says, " I can well assure the reader that their opinion is not true, 
 who suppose this mount to be inaccessible." He adds, that " the 
 lower part of the mountain is cloudy, misty, and dark; the middle- 
 most part very cold, and like clouds of snow, but the upper regions 
 perfectly calm." It was on this mountain that the Ark was sup- 
 posed to have rested after the Deluge, and part of it, they say, ex- 
 ists there still, which Struy thus gravely accounts for: "Whereas 
 none can remember that the air on the top of the hill did ever 
 change or was subject either to wind or rain, which is presumed to 
 be the reason that the Ark has endured so long without being rot- 
 ten." — See Carreri's Travels, where the Doctor laughs at this 
 ■whole account of Mount Ararat. 
 
 Note 229, p. 151. — The hridegroom, with his locks of light. 
 In one of the books of the Shah Nameh, when Zal (a celebrated 
 hero of Persia, remarkable for his white hair), comes to the terrace 
 of his misti'ess Rodahver at night, she lets down her long tresses to 
 assist him in his ascent ; — he, however, manages it in a less ro- 
 mantic? way, hj fixing his crook in a projecting beam. — See Cham- 
 pion's Ferdosi. 
 
 Note 230, p. 152. — The rock-goats o/" Arabia clamher. 
 " On the lofty hills of Arabia Petrsea are rock-goats." — Niebuhr. 
 
 Note 231, p. 152. — Some ditty to her soft Kanoon. 
 "Canun, espfece de psaltdrion, avec des cordes de boyaux; les 
 dames en touchent dans le s^rail, avec des ^cailles armies de pointes 
 de cooc." — Toderini, translated by De Cournand.
 
 808 NOTES. 
 
 Note 232, p. 157. — The Gheber belt that round him clung. 
 "They (the Ghebers) lay so much stress on their cushee or gir- 
 dle, as not to dare to be an instant Avithout it." — Grose's Voyage, 
 
 — " Le jeune honime nia d'abord la chose ; mais, ayant et(5 df'pouill^ 
 de sa robe, et la large ceinture qu'il portoit conime Ghebr," etc., etc. 
 
 — D'Herbelot, art. Agduani. "Pour se distinguer des Idolatres de 
 I'Inde, les Gufebres se ceignent tons d'un cordon de laiue, ou de 
 poil de chameau." — Enci/clopedie Frangohe. 
 
 D'Herbelot says this belt was generally of leather. 
 
 Note 2.3-3, p. 1.57. — Among the living lights of heaven. 
 " They suppose the Throne of the Almighty is seated in the sun, 
 and hence their worship of that luminarj^" — Hanwaj'. "As to 
 fire, the Ghebers place the spring-head of it in that globe of fire 
 the Sun, by them called Mj'thras, or Mihir, to which they pay the 
 highest reverence, in gratitude for the manifold benefits flowing 
 from its ministerial omniscience. But they are so far from con- 
 founding the subordination of the Servant with the majesty of its 
 Creator, that they not only attribute no sort of sense or reasoning 
 to the sun or fire, in any of its operations, but consider it as a 
 purely passive blind instrument, directed and governed by the im- 
 mediate impression on it of the will of God ; but they do not even 
 give that luminary, all-glorious as it is, more than the second rank 
 amongst his works, reserving the first for that stupendous produc- 
 tion of divine power, the mind of man." — Grose. The false 
 charges brought against the religion of these people by their Mus- 
 sulman tyrants is but one proof among many of the truth of this 
 writer's remark, that " calumny is often added to oppression, if but 
 for the sake of justifying it." 
 
 Note 234, p. 159. — Andjiery darts, at intervals. 
 " The Mameluks that were in the other boat, wheu it was dark, 
 used to shoot up a sort of fiery arrows into the air, which in some 
 measure resembled lightning or falling stars." — Baumgarten. 
 
 Note 235, p. 161. — Which groros over the tomb of the musician, 
 Tan-Sein. — "Within the enclosure which surrounds this monu- 
 ment (at Gualior) is a small tomb to the memory of Tan-Sein, a 
 musician of incomparable skill, who flourished at the court of Ak-
 
 NOTES. 809 
 
 bar. The tomb is overshadowed by a tree, concerning which a 
 superstitious notion prevails, that the chewing of its leaves will 
 give an extraordinary melody to the voice." — Narrative of a 
 Journey from Af/ra to Ouzein, by W. Hunter, Esq. 
 
 Note 2.36, p. 161. — The auful sifjnal of the bamboo staff. — " It is 
 usual to place a small white triangular tiag, tixed to a bamboo statF 
 of ten or twelve feet long, at the place where a tiger has destroyed 
 a man. It is common for the passengers also to throw each a stone 
 or brick near the spot, so that in the course of a little time a pile 
 equal to a good wagon-load is collected. The sight of these flags 
 and piles of stones imparts a certain melancholy, not perhaps 
 altogether void of apprehension." — Oriental Field SpoiHs, Vol. II. 
 
 Note 237, p. 161. — Ornamented with the most beautiful porcelain. 
 — " The Ficus Indiea is called the Pagod Tree and Tree of Coun- 
 cils; the first, from the idols placed under its shade; the second, 
 because meetings were held under its cool branches. In some 
 places it is believed to be the haunt of spectres, as the ancient 
 spreading oaks of Wales have been of fairies; in others are erected 
 beneath the shade pillars of stone, or posts, elegantly carved, and 
 ornamented with the most beautiful porcelain to supply the use of 
 mirrors." — Pennant. 
 
 Note 238, p. 163. — And o'er the Green Sea palely shines. 
 The Persian Gulf. — " To dive for pearls in the Green Sea, or 
 Persian Gulf." — Sir W. Jones. 
 
 Note 239, p. 163. — Revealing Bahrein's groves of palm, 
 And lighting Kishma's amber vines. 
 Islands in the Gulf. 
 
 Note 240, p. 163. — Blow round Selama's sainted cape. 
 Or Selemeh, the genuine name of the headland at the entrance 
 of the Gulf, commonly called Cape Musseldom. " The Indians, 
 when they pass the promontory, throw cocoa-nuts, fruits, or flowers, 
 into the sea, to secure a propitious voyage." — Morier.
 
 310 NOTES. 
 
 Note 241, p. 163. — The nightingale now bends her flight. 
 "The nightingale sings from the pomegranate groves in the day- 
 time, and from the loftiest trees at night." — Russel's Aleppo. 
 
 Note 242, p. 163. — The best and brightest scimitar. 
 In speaking of the climate of Shiraz, Francklin says, " The dew 
 is of such a pure nature, that if the brightest scimitar should be 
 exposed to it all night, it would not receive the least rust." 
 
 Note 243, p. 164. — Who, on Cadessia's bloody i^ains. 
 The place where the Persians were finally defeated by the Arabs, 
 and their ancient monarchy destroyed. 
 
 Note 244, p. 164. — Beyond the Caspian's Iron Gates. 
 Derbend. — " Les Turcs appellent cette ville Demir Capi, Porte 
 de Fer ; ce sont les CaspiiB Portce des anciens." — D'Herbelot. 
 
 Note 245, p. 165. — They burst, like Zeilan's giant palm. 
 The Talpot or Talipot tree. " This beautiful palm-tree, which 
 grows in the heart of tlie forests, maj' be classed among the loftiest 
 trees, and becomes still higher when on the point of bursting forth 
 from its leafy summit. The sheath which then envelops the flower 
 is very large, and, when it bursts, makes an explosion like the 
 report of a cannon." — Thunberg. 
 
 Note 246, p. 166. — Before whose sabre's dazzling light. 
 " When the bright scimitars make the eyes of our heroes wink." 
 — The Moallahat, Poem of Amru. 
 
 Note 247, p. 167. — Sprung from those old, enchanted kings. 
 Tahmuras, and other ancient kings of Persia ; whose adventures 
 in Fairy-land among the Peris and Dives may be found in Richard- 
 son's curious Dissertation. The griffin Simoorgh, they say, took 
 some feathers from her breast for Tahmuras, with which he adorned 
 his helmet, and transmitted them afterwards to his descendants. 
 
 Note 248, p. 168. — Of sainted cedars on its banks. 
 This rivulet, saj's Dandini, is called the Holy River from the 
 "cedar-saints" among which it rises.
 
 NOTES. 311 
 
 In the Lettres Edifiantes, there is a different cause assigned for 
 its name of Holy. " In these are deep caverns, which formerly 
 served as so many cells for a great number of recluses, who had 
 chosen these retreats as the only witnesses upon earth of the sever- 
 ity of their penance. The tears of these pious penitents gave the 
 river of which we have just treated the name of the Holy River." 
 See Chateaubriand's Beauties of Christianity. 
 
 Note 249, p. 169. — Of Oman beetling awfully. 
 This mountain is my own creation, as the " stupendous chain," 
 of which I suppose it a link, does not extend quite so far as the 
 shores of the Persian Gulf. " This long and lofty range of moun- 
 tains formerly divided Media from Assyria, and now forms the 
 boundary of tlie Persian and Turkish empires. It runs parallel 
 with the river Tigris and Persian Gulf, and almost disappearing in 
 the vicinity of Gomberoon (Harmozia), seems once more to rise in 
 the southern districts of Kerman, and following an easterly course 
 through the centre of Meckrauu and Balouchistan, is entirely lost 
 in the deserts of Sinde." — Kinneir's Persian Emjnre. 
 
 Note 250, p. 170. — That oft the sleeinng albatross. 
 These birds sleep in the air. They are most common about the 
 Cape of Good Hope. 
 
 Note 251, p. 170. — Beneath the Gheber's lonely cliff. 
 " There is an extraordinary hill in this neighborhood, called Koh6 
 Gubr, or the Guebre's Mountain. It rises in the form of a lofty 
 cupola, and on the summit of it, they say, are the remains of an 
 Atush Kudu, or Fire-Temple. It is supcrstitiously held to be the 
 residence of Deeves or Sprites, and many marvellous stories are 
 recounted of the injury and witchcraft sufiered by those who es- 
 sayed in former days to ascend or explore it." — Pottinger's Beloo- 
 chistan. 
 
 Note 252, p. 171. — Of that vast mountain stood on fire. 
 The Ghebers generally bmlt their temples over subterraneous 
 fires. 
 
 Note 253, p. 171. — Still did the mighty fiame burn on. 
 "At the city of Yezd, in Persia, which is distinguished by the
 
 312 NOTES. 
 
 appellation of the Dariib Abadut, or Seat of Religion, the Guebres 
 are permitted to have an Atush Kudu, or Fire-Temple (which, they 
 assert, has had the sacred tire in it since the days of Zoroaster), in 
 their own compartment of the city; but for tliis indulgence they 
 are indebted to the avarice, not the tolerance of the Persian gov- 
 ernment, which taxes them at twenty-tive rupees each man." — 
 Pottinger's Beloochislan. 
 
 Note 254, p. 172. — The blood of Zal and Rustam rolls. 
 Ancient heroes of Persia. " Among the Guebres there are some 
 who boast their descent from Rustam." — Stephen's Persia. 
 
 Note 255, p. 173. — Ao'oss the durh-sea robber^s way. 
 See Russel's account of the panther's attacking travellers in the 
 night on the sea-shore about the roots of Lebanon. 
 
 Note 256, p. 173. — The wandering Spirits of their Dead. 
 " Among other ceremonies the Magi used to place upon the tops 
 of high towers various kinds of rich viands, upon which it was 
 supposed the Peris and the spirits of their departed heroes regaled 
 themselves." — Richardson. 
 
 Note 257, p. 173. — Nor charmed leaf of pure piomegranate. 
 In the ceremonies of the Ghebers round their Fire, as described 
 by Lord, "the Daroo," he says, "givetli them water to drink, and 
 a pomegranate leaf to chew in the mouth, to cleanse them firom 
 inward uncleanness." 
 
 Note 258, p. 173. — Nor symbol of their worshipped planet. 
 "Earl}' in the morning, they (the Parsees or Ghebers at Oulam) 
 go in crowds to pay their devotions to the Sun, to whom upon all 
 the altars there are spheres consecrated, made by magic, resembling 
 the circles of the sim, and when the sun rises, these orbs seem to 
 be inflamed, and to turn round with a great noise. They have 
 every one a censer in their hands, and offer incense to the sun." — 
 Rabbi Benjamin. 
 
 Note 259, p. 174. — They swore the latest, holiest deed. 
 " Nul d'entre eux oseroit se parjurer, quand il a pris a t^moin 
 cet Element terrible et vengeur." — Encyclopedic Frangoise.
 
 NOTES. 313 
 
 Note 260, p. 174. — Tlie Persian lily shines and toicers. 
 "A vivid verdure succeeds the autumnal rains, and the ploughed 
 fields are covered with the Persian lily, of a resplendent yellow 
 color." — Russel's Aleppo. 
 
 Note 261, p. 177. — When tossed at midniyht furioushj. 
 " It is observed, with respect to the Sea of Herkend, that when 
 it is tossed by tempestuous winds it sparkles like fire." — Travels 
 of Two Mohammedans. 
 
 Note 262, p. 177. — Up, daughter, up — the Kerna's breath. 
 A kind of trumpet ; — it " was that used by Tamerlane, the sound 
 of which is described as uncommonly dreadful, and so loud as to 
 be heard at the distance of several miles." — Kichardson. 
 
 Note 2G3, p. 178. — Thou wor'si on Ohod's feld of death. 
 " Mohammed had two helmets, an interior and exterior one; the 
 latter of which, called AI Mawashah, the fillet, wreath, or wreathed 
 garland, he wore at the battle of Ohod." — Universal History. 
 
 Note 264, p. 179. — But turn to ashes on (he lips. 
 
 " They say that there are apple-trees upon the sides of this sea, 
 •which bear very lovely fruit, but within are all full of ashes." — 
 Thevenot. The same is asserted of the oranges there ; vide Wit- 
 man's Travels in Asiatic Turkey. 
 
 " The Asphalt Lake, known by the name of the Dead Sea, is 
 verj' remarkable on account of the considerable proportion of salt 
 which it contains. In this respect it surpasses every other known 
 water on the surface of the earth. This great proportion of bitter- 
 tasted salts is the reason why neither animal nor plant can live in 
 this water." — Klaproth's Chemical Analysis of the Water of the 
 Dead Sea, Atmals of Philosophy, January, 1813. Hasselquist, how- 
 ever, doubts the truth of this last assertion, as there are shell-fish 
 to be found in the lake. 
 
 Lord Byron has a similar allusion to the fruits of the Dead Sea, 
 in that wonderful display of genius, his third Canto of Childe 
 Harold, — magnificent beyond anything, perhaps, that even he 
 has ever written.
 
 314 NOTES. 
 
 Note 265, p. 180. — While lalces, that shone in mockery nigh. 
 
 " The Suhrab, or Water of the Desert, is said to be caused by 
 the rarefaction of the atmosphere from extreme heat; and, which 
 augments the delusion, it is most frequent in hollows, where water 
 might be expected to lodge. I have seen bushes and trees reflected 
 in it with as much accuracy as though it had been the face of a 
 clear and still lake." — Pottinger. 
 
 " As to the unbelievers, their works are like a vapor in a plain, 
 which the thirsty traveller thinketh to be water, until when he 
 Cometh thereto he findeth it to be nothing." — Koran, chap. xxiv. 
 
 Note 266, p. 181. — The Bid-musk had just passed over. — "A 
 wind which prevails in February, called Bid-musk, from a small 
 and odoriferous flower of that name." — " The wind which blows 
 these flowers commonly lasts till the end of the month." — Le 
 Bruyn. 
 
 Note 267, p. 181. — The sea-gypsies, who live forever on the water. 
 — " The Biajiis are of two races: the one is settled on Borneo, and 
 are a rude but warlike and industrious nation, who reckon them- 
 selves the original possessors of the island of Borneo. The other 
 is a species of sea-gypsies or itinerant fishermen, who live in small 
 covered boats, and enjoy a perpetual summer on the eastern ocean, 
 shifting to leeward from island to island, with the variations of the 
 monsoon. In some of their customs this singular race resemble the 
 natives of the Maldivia Islands. The Maldivians annually launch 
 a small bark, loaded with perfumes, gums, flowers, and odoriferous 
 wood, and turn it adrift at the mercy of winds and waves, as an 
 offering to the Spirit of the Winds ; and sometimes similar offerings 
 are made to the spirit whom they term the King of the Sea. In 
 like manner the Biajus perform their oflering to the God of Evil, 
 launching a small bark, loaded with all the sins and misfortunes 
 of the nation, which are imagined to fall on the unhappy crew that 
 maj^ be so unlucky as first to meet with it." — Dr. Leyden on the 
 Languages and Literature of the Indo-Chinese Nations. 
 
 Note 268, p. 181. — The violet sherbets. — ''The sweet-scented 
 violet is one of the plants most esteemed, particularly for its great 
 use in Sorbet, which they make of violet sugar." — Hasselquist.
 
 NOTES. 315 
 
 " The sherbet they most esteem, and which is drunk by the 
 Grand Signor himself, is made of violets and sugar." — Tavernier. 
 
 Note 269, p. 182. — The pathetic measure of Nava. — " Last of all 
 she took a guitar, and sung a pathetic air in the measure called 
 Nava, which is always used to express the lamentations of absent 
 lovers." — Persian Tales. 
 
 Note 270, p. 18i. — No music timed her parting oar. 
 " The Easterns used to set out on their longer voyages with 
 music." — Harnier. 
 
 Note 271, p. 184. — In silence through the Gate of Tears. 
 " The Gate of Tears, the straits or passage into the Eed Sea, 
 commonly called Babelmandel. It received this name from the 
 old Arabians, on account of the danger of the navigation, and the 
 number of shipwrecks by which it was distinguished; which in- 
 duced them to consider as dead, and to wear mourning for all who 
 had the boldness to hazard the passage through it into the Ethiopic 
 Ocean." — Richardson. 
 
 Note 272, p. 184. — In the still war-m and living breath. 
 " I have been told that whensoever an animal falls down dead, 
 one or more vultures, unseeii before, instantly appear." — Pen- 
 nant. 
 
 Note 273, p. 184. — As a young bird of Babylon. 
 "They fasten some writing to the wings of a Bagdat or Baby 
 Ionian pigeon." — Travels of certain Englishmen. 
 
 Note 274, p. 185. — Shooting around their jasper fount. 
 " The Empress of Jehan-Guire used to divert herself with feed- 
 ing tame fish in her canals, some of which were many years after- 
 wards known by tillets of gold, which she caused to be put round 
 them." — Harris. 
 
 Note 275, p. 185. — To tell her ruby rosary. 
 " Le Tespih, qui est un chapelet compost de 99 petites boules 
 d'agate, de jaspe, d'ambre, de corail, ou d'autre matiere pr^cieuse.
 
 316 NOTES. 
 
 J'en ai vu un superbe au Seigneur Jeipos; il ^toit de belles et 
 grosses perles parfaites et ^gales, estimd trente mille piastres." — 
 Toderini. 
 
 Note 27G, p. 188. — Like meteor brands as if throughout. 
 The meteors that Pliny calls " faces." 
 
 Note 277, p. 188. — The Star o/" Egypt, whose proud light. 
 " The brilliant Canopus, unseen in European climates." — Brown. 
 
 Note 278, p. 189. — In the White Islands of the West. 
 See Wilford's learned Essays on the Sacred Isles in the West. 
 
 Note 279, p. 189. — Sparkles, as H were that lightning gem. 
 A precious stone of the Indies, called by the ancients Ceraunium, 
 because it was supposed to be found in places where thmider had 
 fallen. Tertullian says it has a glittering appearance, as if there 
 had been fire in it ; and the author of the Dissertation in Harris's 
 Voyages, supposes it to be the opal. 
 
 Note 280, p. 191. — Tlieir garb — the leathern belt that wraps. 
 D'Herbelot, art. Agduani. 
 
 Note 281, p. 191. — Each yellow vest — that rebel hue. 
 " The Guebres are known by a dark yeUow color, which the men 
 affect in their clothes." — Thevenot. 
 
 Note 282, p. 191. — TJie Tartar fleece upon their caps. 
 " The Kolah, or cap, worn by the Persians, is made of the skm 
 of the sheep of Tartary." — Waring. 
 
 Note 283, p. 196. — Open her bosom's glowing veil. 
 A frequent image among the Oriental poets. " The nightingales 
 warbled their enchanting notes, and rent the thin veils of the rose- 
 bud and the rose." — Jami. 
 
 Note 284, p. 199. — The sorrowful tree, Nilica. — " Blossoms of 
 the sorrowful Nyctanthes give a durable color to silk." — Remarks 
 on the Husbandry of Bengal, p. 200. Nilica is one of the Indian
 
 NOTES. 817 
 
 names of this flower. — Sir W. Jones. The Persians call it GuI. — 
 Carreri. 
 
 Note 285, p. 200. — That cooling feast the traveller loves. 
 " In parts of Kerman, whatever dates are shaken from the trees 
 by the wind they do not touch, but leave them for those who have 
 not any, or for travellers." — Ebn Haukal. 
 
 Note 286, p. 201. — Tlie Searchers of the Grave appear. 
 The two terrible angels Monkir and Nakir, who are called " the 
 Searchers of the Grave " in the " Creed of the orthodox Mahome- 
 tans " given by Ockley, Vol. II. 
 
 Note 287, p. 202. — The mandrake's charnel leaves at night. 
 " The Arabians call the mandrake ' the Devil's candle,' on ac- 
 count of its shining appearance in the night." — Richardson. 
 
 Note 288, p. 207.— Of the still Halls of Ishmonie. 
 For an account of Ishmonie, the petrified city in Upper Egypt, 
 where it is said there are many statues of men, women, etc., to be 
 seen to tliis day, see Perry's View of the Levant. 
 
 Note 289, p. 209. — And ne'er did saint of Issa gaze. — Jesus. 
 
 Note 290, p. 209. — The death-flames that beneath him burned. 
 
 The Ghebers say that when Abraham, their great Prophet, was 
 thrown into the tire by order of Nimrod, the flame turned instantly 
 into "a bed of roses, where the child sweetly reposed." — Taver- 
 nier. 
 
 Of their other Prophet, Zoroaster, thei-e is a story told in Di<m 
 Prusaius, Orat. 36, that the love of wisdom and virtue leading him 
 to a solitary life upon a mountain, he found it one daj' all in a 
 flame, shining with celestial fire, out of which he came without any 
 harm, and instituted certain sacrifices to God, who, he declared, 
 then appeared to him. — See Patrick on Exodus iii. 2. 
 
 Note 291, p. 212. — A ponderous sea-horn hung, and blew. 
 "The shell called Siiankos, common to India, Africa, and the
 
 318 NOTES. 
 
 Mediterranean, and still used in many parts as a trumpet for blow- 
 ing alarms or giving signals: it sends forth a deep and hollow 
 sound." — Pennant. 
 
 Note 292, p. 213. — And the ichite ox-tails streamed behind. 
 " The finest ornament for the horses is made of six large flj'ing 
 tassels of long white hair, taken out of the tails of wild oxen, that 
 are to be found in some places of the Indies." — Thevenot. 
 
 Note 293, p. 214. — Sweet as the angel Israfil's. 
 " The angel Israfil, who has the most melodious voice of all God's 
 creatures." — Sale. 
 
 Note 294, p. 217. — Wound slow, as through Golconda's vale. 
 See Hoole upon the Story of Sindbad. 
 
 Note 295, p. 220. — From the ivild covert where he lay. 
 " In this thicket upon the banks of the Jordan several sorts of 
 wild beasts are wont to harbor themselves, whose being washed out 
 of the covert by tlie overflowings of the river gave occasion to that 
 allusion of Jeremiah. He shall come up like a lion from the swelling of 
 Jordan.'''' — Maundrell's Alejipo. 
 
 Note 296, p. 227. — Like the wind of the south o'er a summer lute 
 blowing. 
 
 "This wind (the Samoor) so softens the strings of lutes, that 
 they can never be tuned while it lasts." — Stephen's Persia. 
 
 Note 297, p. 228. — With naught but the sea-star to light up her tomb. 
 " One of the greatest curiosities found in the Persian Gulf is a 
 fish which the English call Star-fish. It is circular, and at night 
 very luminous, resembling the full moon surrounded by rays." — 
 Mirza Abu Taleb. 
 
 Note 298, p. 228. — And still, lohen the merry date-season is burning. 
 For a description of the merriment of the date-time, of their 
 work, their dances, and their return home from the palm-groves at 
 the end of autumn with the fruits, see Kismpfer, Amcenitat. Exot.
 
 NOTES. 319 
 
 Note 299, p. 228. — That ever the sm-n-owing sea-bird has wept. 
 Some naturalists have imagined that amber is a concretion of 
 the tears of birds. — See Trevoux, Chambers. 
 
 Note 300, p. 229. — We'll seek where the sands of the Caspian are 
 sparkling. 
 " The bay Kieselarke, which is otherwise called the Golden Baj'', 
 the sand whereof sliiues as fire." — Stray. 
 
 Note 301, p. 230. — The summary crilicism of the Oliabuk. — " The 
 application of whips or rods." — Dubois. 
 
 Note 302, p. 231. — Chief Holder of the Girdle of Beautiful 
 Forms. — Krempfer mentions such an otficer among the attendants 
 of the King of Persia, and calls him " formoe corporis estimator." 
 His business M'as, at stated periods, to measure the ladies of the 
 Harem by a sort of regulation-girdle, whose limits it was not 
 thought graceful to exceed. If any of them outgrew this standard 
 of shape, they were reduced by abstinence till they came within 
 proper bounds. 
 
 Note 303, p. 231. — Forbidden River. — The Attock. 
 
 " Akbar on his way ordered a fort to be built upon the Nilab, 
 which he called Attock, which means in the Indian language 
 Forbidden; for, by the superstition of the Hindoos, it was held 
 unlawful to cross that river." — Dow's Hindostan. 
 
 Note 304, p. 232. — One genial star that rises nightly over their 
 heads. — "The inhabitants of this country (Zinge) are never af- 
 flicted with sadness or melancholy; on this subject the Sheikh Abu- 
 Al-Kheir-Azhari has the following distich : — 
 
 " ' Who is the man M'ithout care or sorrow (tell), that I may rub 
 my hand to him. 
 
 " ' (Behold) the Zingians, without care or sorrow, frolicsome with 
 tipsiness and mirth.' 
 
 " The philosophers have discovered that the cause of this cheer- 
 fulness proceeds from the influence of the star Soheil or Canopus, 
 which rises over them ever}' night." — Extract from a Geographic 
 cal Persian Manuscript called Heft Aklim ; or, the Seven Climates, 
 translated by W. Ouseley, Esq.
 
 320 NOTES. 
 
 Note 305, p. 233. — Lizards. — " The lizard Stellio. The Arabs 
 call it Harclun. The Turks kill it, for they imagine that by declin- 
 ing the head it mimics them when they say their prayers." — Has- 
 
 selquist. 
 
 Note 306, p. 233. — Royal Gardens. — For these particulars re- 
 specting Hussun Abdaul, I am indebted to the very interesting In- 
 troduction of Mr. Elphinstoue's work upon Caubul. 
 
 Note 307, p. 233. — It was too delicious. — " As you enter at that 
 Bazaar, without the gate of Damascus, you see the Green Mosque, 
 so called because it hath a steeple faced with green glazed bricks, 
 which render it very resplendent ; it is covered at top with a pavil- 
 ion of the same stuff. The Turks say this mosque was made in 
 that place, because Mahomet being come so far, would not enter 
 the town, saying it was too delicious." — Thevenot. This re- 
 minds one of the following pretty passage in Izaak Walton : — 
 " When I sat last on this primrose bank, and looked down these 
 meadows, I thought of them as Charles the Emperor did of the 
 city of Florence, ' that they were too pleasant to be looked on, but 
 only on holidays.' " 
 
 Note 308, p. 234. — The Sultana Nourmahal, the Light of the 
 Harem. — Nourmahal signifies Light of the Harem. She was 
 afterwards called Nourjehan, or, the Light of the World. 
 
 Note 309, p. 23-1. — The small shining fishes of which she was so 
 fond. — See Note 274. 
 
 Note 310, p. 234. — Haroun Al-Raschid and his fair mistress 
 Marida. — " Haroun Al-Raschid, cinquieme Khalife des Abassides, 
 s'^tant un jour brouille avec une de ses maitresses nommee Mari- 
 dah, qu'il aimoit cependant jusqu'a I'exc^s, etcette mesintelligence 
 ayant d^ja durc^e quelque tems commen^a a s'ennuyer. Giafar Bar- 
 maki, son favori, qui s'en apper^fit, commandaaAbbas ben Ahnaf, 
 excellent poete de ce tems-la, de composer quelques vers sur le 
 sujet de cette brouillerie. Ce poete executa I'ordre de Giafar, qui 
 fit chanter ces vers par Moussali en presence du Khalife, et ce 
 Prince fut tellement touch6 de la tendresse des vers du poete et de
 
 NOTES. 321 
 
 lu douceur de la voix du musicien, qu'il alia aussitOt trouver Mari- 
 dah, et fit sa paix avec elle." — D'Herbelot. 
 
 Note 311, p. 235. — With its roses the brightest that earth ever gave. 
 "The rose of Kashmire for its brilliancy and delicacy of odor, 
 has long been proverbial in the East." — Forster. 
 
 Note 312, p. 235. — Round the waist of some fair Indian dancer is 
 ringing. 
 
 " Tied round her waist the zone of bells, that sounded with rav- 
 ishing melody." — Song of Jatjadeva. 
 
 Note 313, p. 23G. — The young aspen-trees. 
 " The little isles in the Lake of Cacheniire are set with arbors 
 and large-leaved aspen-trees, slender and tall." — Bernier. 
 
 Note 314, p. 236. — Shines in through the mountainous portal that 
 opes. 
 " The Tuckt Suliman, the name bestowed by the Mahometans 
 on this hill, forms one side of a grand portal to the Lake." — 
 Forster. 
 
 Note 315, p. 23G. — The VaUey holds its Feast of Roses. 
 " The Feast of Roses continues the whole time of their remain- 
 ing in bloom." — See Pietro de la Valle. 
 
 Note 316, p. 237. — The Floweret of a hundred leaves. 
 " Gul sad berk, the Rose of a hundred leaves. I believe a par- 
 ticular species." — Ouseley. 
 
 Note 317, p. 237. — Behind the jmbns of Bakamoule. — Bernier. 
 
 Note 318, p. 237. —C/J Bela's hills is less alive. 
 A place mentioned in the Toozek Jehangeery, or Memoirs of 
 Jehanguire, where there is an account of the beds of safl'rou flow- 
 ers about Cashmere. 
 
 Note 319, p. 238. — Sung from his lighted gallery. 
 " It is the custom among the women to employ the Maazeen to 
 21
 
 322 NOTES. 
 
 chant from the gallery of the nearest minaret, which on that oc- 
 casion is ilhmiinated, and the women assembled at the house re- 
 spond at intervals with a ziraleet or joyous chorus." — Russel. 
 
 Note 320, p. 238. — From gardens, where the silken swing. 
 
 " The swing is a favorite pastime in the East, as promoting a 
 circulation of air, extremely refreshing in those sultry climates." — 
 Richardson. 
 
 " The swings are adorned with festoons. This pastime is accom- 
 panied with the music of voices and of instruments, hired by the 
 masters of the swings." — Thevenot. 
 
 Note 321, p. 238. — Among the tents that line the way. 
 " At the keeping of the Feast of Roses we beheld an infinite 
 number of tents pitched, with such a crowd of men, women, boys, 
 and girls, with music, dances," etc., etc. — Herbert. 
 
 Note 322, p. 239. — An answer in song to the Mss of each wave. 
 
 " An old commentator of the Chou-King says, the ancients hav- 
 ing remarked that a current of water made some of the stones near 
 its banks send forth a sound, they detached some of them, and 
 being charmed with the delightful sound they emitted, constructed 
 King or musical instruments of them." — Grosier. 
 
 This miraculous quality has been attributed also to the shore of 
 Attica. " Hujus littus, ait Capella, concentum musicum illisis 
 terras undis reddere, quod propter tantam eruditionis vim puto dic- 
 tum." — Liulov. Vives in Auguslin. cle Civilat. Dei, Lib. xviii. c. 8. 
 
 Note 323, p. 239. — So felt the magnifcent Son of Acbar. 
 Jehanguire was the son of the Great Acbar. 
 
 Note 324, p. 241. — Yet playful as Peris just loosed from their cagos. 
 In the wars of the Dives with the Peris, whenever the former took 
 the latter prisoners, " thej' shut them up in iron cages, and hung 
 them on the highest trees. Here they were visited by their com- 
 panions, who brought them the choicest odors." — Richardson.
 
 NOTES. 323 
 
 Note 325, p. 241. — Of the flowers of tliis planet — though treasures 
 icere there. 
 In the Malay language the same word signifies women and 
 flowers. 
 
 Note 326, p. 242. — He saw that City of Dellyht. 
 The capital of Shadukiam. See note 195. 
 
 Note 327, p. 243. — lie sits, loith flow' rets fettered rmmd. 
 See the representation of the Eastern Cupid, pinioned closely 
 round with wreaths of flowers in Picart's Ceremonies Religieuses. 
 
 Note 328, p. 243. — Lose all their glory when he flies. 
 " Among the birds of Tonquin is a species of goldfinch, which 
 sings so melodiously that it is called the Celestial bird. Its wings, 
 when it is perched, appear variegated with beautiful colors, but 
 when it flies they lose all their splendor." — Grosier. 
 
 Note 329, p. 244. — Whose pinion knows no resting-place. 
 " As these birds on the Bosphorus are never known to rest, they 
 are called by the French ' les ames damn^es.' " — Dalloway. 
 
 Note 330, p. 244. — If there his darling rose is not. 
 " You maj' place a hundred handfuls of fragrant herbs and flow- 
 ers before the nightingale, yet he wishes not, in his constant heart, 
 for more than the sweet breath of his beloved rose." — Jami. 
 
 Note 331, p. 245. — From the great Mantra, xohich around. 
 " He is said to have found the great Mantra, spell or talisman, 
 through which he ruled over the elements and spirits of all denom- 
 inations." — Wilford. 
 
 Note 332, p. 245. — To the gold gems of Afric. 
 
 " The gold jewels of Jinnie, which are called by the Arabs El 
 Hei'rez, from the supposed charm they contain." — Jackson. 
 
 Note 333, p. 245. — To keep himfrovi the Siltim's harm. 
 " A demon, supposed to haunt woods, etc., in a human shape." — 
 Richardson.
 
 324 NOTES. 
 
 Note 334, p. 246. — Her Sdlin's smile to Noukmahal. 
 The name of Jehanguire before his accession to the throne. 
 
 Note 335, p. 247. — Anemones and Seas of Gold. 
 " Hemasagara, or the Sea of Gold, with flowers of the brightest 
 gold color." — Sir W. Jones. 
 
 Note 336, p. 247. — Their buds on Camadeva's quiver. 
 " This tree (the Nagacesara) is one of the most delightful on 
 earth, and the delicious odor of its blossoms justly gives them a 
 place in the quiver of Camadeva, or the God of Love." — Ibid. 
 
 Note 337, p. 247. — Is called the Mistress of the Night. 
 " The Malayans style the tube-rose (Polianthes tuberosa) Sandal 
 Malam, or the Mistress of the Night." — Pennant. 
 
 Note 338, p. 247. — That wander through Zamaka's shades. 
 The people of the Batta countrj' in Sumatra (of which Zamara 
 is one of the ancient names), "when not engaged in war, lead an 
 idle, inactive life, passing the day in playing on a kind of tlute, 
 crowned with garlands of flowers, among which the globe-ama- 
 ranthus, a native of the country, mostly prevails." — Marsden. 
 
 Note 339, p. 247. — From the divine Amrita-tree. 
 " The largest and richest sort (of the Jambu, or rose-apple) is 
 called Amrita, or immortal, and the mythologists of Tibet apply 
 the same word to a celestial tree, bearing ambrosial fruit." — Sir 
 W. Jones. 
 
 Note 340, p. 247. — Down to the basil tuft, that tcaves. 
 
 Sweet basil, called Rayhan in Persia, and generally found in 
 churchyards. 
 
 " The women in Egypt go, at least two days in the week, to pray 
 and weep at the sepulchres of the dead; and the custom then is to 
 throw upon the tombs a sort of herb, which the Arabs call rihan, 
 and which is our sweet basil." — Maillet, Lett. 10. 
 
 Note 341, p. 248. — To scent the desert and the dead. 
 " In the Great Desert are found many stalks of lavender and 
 rosemary." — Asiat. Res.
 
 NOTES. 325 
 
 Note 342, p. 249. — Thai bbums mi a leafless bough. 
 " The almond-tree, with white flowers, blossoms on the bare 
 branches." — Hasselquist. 
 
 Note 343, p. 249. — Inhabit the mountain-herb, that dyes. 
 
 An herb on Mount Libanus, which is said to communicate a yel- 
 low golden hue to the teeth of the goats and other animals that 
 graze upon it. 
 
 Niebuhr thinks this may be the herb which the Eastern alche- 
 mists look to as a means of making gold. " Most of those alchem- 
 ical enthusiasts think themselves sure of success, if they could 
 but find out the herb, which gilds the teeth and gives a yellow 
 color to the flesh of the sheep that eat it. Even the oil of this 
 plant must be of a golden color. It is called Haschischat ed dab.^' 
 
 Father Jerom Dandiui, however, asserts that the teeth of the 
 goats at Mount Libanus are of a silvei- color; and adds, " This con- 
 firms to me that which I observed in Candia : to wit, that the animals 
 that live on Mount Ida eat a certain herb, which renders their teeth 
 of a golden color; which, according to my judgment, cannot other- 
 wise proceed than from the mines which are under ground." — 
 Dandini, Voyage to Mount Libanus. 
 
 Note 344, p. 250. — 0/ Azab blew, was full of scents. 
 The myrrh country. 
 
 Note 345, p. 250. — Where Love himself, of old, lay sleeping. 
 " This idea (of deities living in shells) was not unknown to the 
 Greeks, who represent the young Nerites, one of the Cupids, as 
 living in shells on the shores of the Red Sea." — Wilford. 
 
 Note 346, p. 250. — From Chindaka's warbling fount I come. 
 '• A fabulous fountain, where instruments are said to be constantly 
 playing." — Kichardson. 
 
 Note 347, p. 251. — The cinnamon-seed from grove to grove. 
 " The Pompadour pigeon is the species, which, by carrying the 
 fruit of the cinnamon to different places, is a great disseminator of 
 this valuable tree." — See Brown's Jlluslr. Tub. 19.
 
 326 NOTES. 
 
 Note 348, p. 252. — Jliepast, Hie present, and future of pleasure. 
 
 " Whenever our pleasure arises from a succession of sounds, it is 
 a perception of a complicated nature, made up of a sensation of the 
 present sound or note, and an idea or remembrance of the foregoing, 
 while their mixture and concurrence produce such a mysterious 
 delight, as neither could have produced alone. And it is often 
 heightened by an anticipation of the succeeding notes. Thus 
 Sense, jNIemory, and Imagination, are conjunctively employed." — 
 Gerrard on Taste. 
 
 This is exactly the Epicurean theory of Pleasure, as explained 
 by Cicero : — " Quocirca corpus gaudere tamdiu, dum prsesentem 
 sentiret voluptatem : animum et prajsentem percipere pariter cum 
 corpore et prospicere venientem, nee prMteritam prasterfluere 
 sinere." 
 
 Madame de Staiil accounts upon the same principle for the grati- 
 fication we derive from rhyme : — " Elle est I'image de I'esp^rance 
 et du souvenir. Un sou nous fait d(5sirer celui qui doit lui repon- 
 dre, et quand le second retentit il nous rappelle celui qui vient de 
 nous ^chapper." 
 
 Note 349, p. 252. — Whose glimpses are again withdraion. 
 " The Persians have two mornings, the Soobhi Kazim and the 
 Soobhi Sadig, the false and the real daybreak. They account for 
 this phenomenon in a most whimsical manner. They say that as 
 the sun rises from behind the Kohi Qaf {Mount Caucasus), it passes 
 a hole perforated through that mountain, and that darting its rays 
 through it, it is the cause of the Soobhi Kazim, or this temporary 
 appearance of daybreak. As it ascends, the earth is again veiled 
 in darkness, until the sun rises above the mountain, and brings 
 with it the Soobhi Sadig, or real morning." — Scott Waring. He 
 thinks Milton may allude to this, when he saj's, — 
 " Ere the blabbing Eastern scout. 
 The nice morn on the Indian steep 
 i'rom her cabined loop-hole peep." 
 
 Note 350, p. 253. — In his mngnijicent Shalimar. 
 " In the centre of the plain, as it approaches the Lake, one of the 
 Delhi Emperors, I believe Shah Jehan, constructed a .spacious gar- 
 den called the Shalimar, which is abundantly stored with fruit-
 
 NOTES. 327 
 
 trees and flowering shrubs. Some of the rivulets which intersect 
 the plain are led into a canal at the back of the garden, and flow- 
 ing through its centre, or occasionally thrown into a variety of 
 water-works, compose the chief beautj' of the Shalimar. To deco- 
 rate this spot, the Mogul Princes of India have displayed an equal 
 magnificence and taste; especially Jehan Gheer, who, with the en- 
 chanting Noor Mahl, made Kashmire his usual residence dui'lng 
 the summer months. On arches thrown over the canal are erected, 
 at equal distances, four or five suites of apartments, each consisting 
 of a saloon, with four rooms at the angles, where the followers of 
 the court attend, and the servants prepare sherbets, coffee, and the 
 hookah. The frame of the doors of the principal saloon is com- 
 posed of pieces of a stone of a black color, streaked with yellow 
 lines, and of a closer grain and higher polish than porphyry. They 
 were taken, it is said, from a Hindoo temple, by one of the Mogul 
 princes, and are esteemed of great value." — Forster. 
 
 Note 351, p. 254. — Of beauty from its founts and streams. 
 " The waters of Cachemir are the more renowned from its being 
 supposed that the Cachemirians are indebted for their beauty to 
 them." — Ali Yezdi. 
 
 Note 352, p. 254. — Singing in gardens of the South. 
 
 " From him I received the following little Gazzel, or Love Song, 
 the notes of which he committed to paper from the voice of one of 
 those singing girls of Cashmere, who wander from that delightful 
 valley over the various parts of India." — Persian Miscellanies. 
 
 Note 353, p. 254. — Delicate as the roses there. 
 "The roses of the Jinan Nile, or Garden of the Nile (attached to 
 the Emperor of Marocco's palace), are unequalled, and mattresses 
 are made of their leaves for the men of rank to recline upon." — 
 Jackson. 
 
 Note 354, p. 254. — With Paphian diamonds in their locks. 
 " On the side of a mountain near Paphos there is a cavern which 
 produces the most beautiful rock-cr\-stal. On account of its brill- 
 iancy it has been called the Paphian diamond." — Mariti.
 
 328 NOTES. 
 
 Note 355, p. 254. — On the gold meads of Candahar. 
 " There is a part of Candahar, called Peria, or Fairy Land." — 
 Thevenot. In some of those countries to the north of India, vege- 
 table gold is supposed to be produced. 
 
 Note 356, p. 254 — Had been by magic all setfying. 
 " These are the butterflies which are called in the Chinese lan- 
 guage Flying Leaves. Some of them have such shining colors, 
 and are so variegated, that they may be called flying flowers; and 
 indeed they are always produced in the finest flower-gardens." — 
 Dunn. 
 
 Note 357, p. 255. — The features of young Arab maids. 
 " The Arabian women wear black masks with little clasps pret- 
 tily ordered." — Carreri. Niebuhr mentions their showing but one 
 ej'e in conversation. 
 
 Note 358, p. 2.55. — On Casbih's hills. 
 " The golden grapes of Casbin." — Bescriptiun of Persia. 
 
 Note 359, p. 255. — And sunniest apples that Caubul. 
 " The fruits exported from Caubul are apples, pears, pomegran- 
 ates," etc. — Elphinstone. 
 
 Note 360, p. 255. — In all its thousand gardctis bears. 
 " We sat down under a tree, listened to the birds, and talked 
 with the son of our Mehmaundar about our country and Caubul, 
 of which he gave an enchanting account: that city and its 100,000 
 gardens," etc. — Ibid. 
 
 Note 361, p. 255. — Malaya's nectared mangusteen. 
 " The mangusteen, the most delicate fruit in the world; the pride 
 of the Malay Islands." — Marsden. 
 
 Note 362, p. 255. — Seed of the Sun, from Iran's latid. 
 " A delicious kind of apricot, called by the Persians tokra-ek- 
 shems, signifying sun's seed." — Description of Persia.
 
 NOTES. 329 
 
 Note 363, p. 255. — With rich conserve of Visna cherries. 
 " Sweetmeats, in a crystal cup, consisting of rose-leaves in con- 
 serve, with lemon of Visna cherry orange flowers," etc. — Russel. 
 
 Note 364, p. 256. — Feed on in Eeac's rocky dells. 
 " Antelopes, cropping the fresh berries of Erac." — 77(6 ifoallahat, 
 Poem of Tarafa. 
 
 Note 365, p. 256. — And urns of porcelain frotn thai isle. 
 " Mam-i-ga-Sima, an island near Formosa, supposed to have 
 been sunk in the sea for the crimes of its inhabitants. The vessels 
 which the tishermen and divers bring up from it are sold at an 
 immense price in China and .Japan." — See Kajmpfer. 
 
 Note 366, p. 256. — Amber Rosolli. — Persian Tales. 
 
 Note 367, p. 256. — From vineyards of the Green Sea gushing. 
 The white wine of Kishma. 
 
 Note 368, p. 256. ~ Offered a city's wealth. 
 " The King of Zeilan is said to have the very finest ruby that 
 was ever seen. Kublai-Khan sent and offered the value of a city 
 for it, but the King answered he would not give it for the treasure 
 of the world." — Marco Polo. 
 
 Note 369, p. 257. — Upon a 7vsy lotus-icreath. 
 The Indians feign that Cupid was first seen floating down the 
 Ganges on the N}Miipha;a Nelumbo. — See Pennant. 
 
 Note 370, p. 257. — When warm they rise from Teflts' brooks. 
 Teflis is celebrated for its natural warm baths. — See Ebn Hau- 
 kal. 
 
 Note 371, p. 257.-0/ a Syrinda. 
 " The Indian Syrinda, or guitar." — Symez. 
 
 • Note 372, p. 257. — It is this, it is this. 
 " Around the exterior of the Dewan Khafs (a building of Shah 
 AUum's) in the cornice are the followhig lines in letters of gold
 
 330 NOTES. 
 
 upon a ground of white marble: — '■ If there be a paradise upon 
 earth, it is this, it is this.' " — Franklin. 
 
 Note 373, p. 257. — As the flower of the Anira just oped by a bee. 
 
 " Delightful are the flowers of the Amra-trees on the mountain 
 tops, while the murmui-ing bees pursue their voluptuous toil." — 
 Song of Jayadeva. 
 
 Note 374, p. 257. — Aiid jyrecious their tears as that rain from the sky. 
 " The Nisan or drops of spring rain, which they believe to pro- 
 duce pearls if they fall into shells." — Richardson. 
 
 Note 375, p. 258. — Who for wine of this earth left the fountains 
 above. 
 For an account of the share which wine had in the fall of the 
 angels, see Mariti. 
 
 Note 376, p. 258. — Of Israfil, the Angel, there. 
 The Angel of Music. See note 293. 
 
 Note 377, p. 261. — When first His by the lapwing found. 
 The Hudhud, or Lapwing, is supposed to have the power of dis- 
 covering water under ground. 
 
 Note 378, p. 263.-0/ her dream. — See p. 181. 
 
 Note 379, p. 264. — Like thtt painted jMrcelain. — " The Chinese 
 had formerly the art of painting on the sides of porcelain vessels 
 fish and other animals, which were only perceptible when the ves- 
 sel was full of some liquor. They call this species Kia tsin, that is, 
 azure is put in press, on account of the manner in which the azure 
 is laid on." — " They are every now and then trying to recover the 
 art of this magical painting, but to no purpose." — Dunn. 
 
 Note 380, p. 205. — House of Azor. — An eminent carver of idols, 
 said in the Koran to be father to Abraham. " I have such a lovely 
 idol as is not to be met with in the house of Azor." — Hafiz. 
 
 Note 381, p. 265. — The Unequalled. — Kachmire be Nazeer. — 
 Forster.
 
 NOTES. 331 
 
 Note 382, p. 2G5. — Miraculous fountains. — "The pardonable 
 superstition of the sequestered inhabitants has multiplied the places 
 of worship of Mahadeo, of Beschan, and of Brama. All Cashmere 
 is holy land, and miraculous fountains abound." — Major Kennel's 
 Memoirs of a Map of Hindustan. 
 
 Jehanguire mentions "a fountain in Cashmere called Tirnagh, 
 which signifies a snake; probably because some large snake had 
 formerly been seen there." — " During the lifetime of my father, 
 I went twice to this fountain, which is about twenty coss from the 
 city of Cashmere. The vestiges of places of worship and sanctity 
 are to be traced without number amongst the ruins and the caves, 
 which are interspersed in its neighborhood." — Toozek Jehangeery. 
 — See Asidt. Misc. Vol. II. 
 
 There is another account of Cashmere by Abul-Fazil, the author 
 of the Ayin-Acbaree, " who," says Major Kennel, " appears to have 
 caught some of the enthusiasm of the valley, by his description of 
 the holy places in it." 
 
 Note 383, p. 265. — Roofed with flowers. — " On a standing roof 
 of wood is laid a covering of fine earth, which shelters the building 
 fi-om the great quantity of snow that falls in the winter season. 
 This fence communicates an equal warmth in winter, as a refresh- 
 ing coolness in the summer season, when the tops of the houses, 
 which are planted with a varietN' of flowers, exhibit at a distance 
 the spacious view of a beautifully checkered parterre." — Forster. 
 
 Note 384, p. 2G6. — The triple-colored tortoise-shell of Pegu. — 
 " Two hundred slaves there are, who have no other office than to 
 hunt the woods and marshes for triple-colored tortoises for the 
 King's Vivary. Of the shells of these also lanterns are made." — 
 Vincent le Blanc's Travels. 
 
 Note 385, p. 266. — Like the meteors of the north, as they are seen 
 by those hunters. — For a description of the Aurora Borealis as it 
 appears to these hunters, see Encychpeedia. 
 
 Note 386, p. 267. — Odoriferous uind. — This wind, which is to 
 blow from Syria Damasrena, is, according to the Mahometans, one 
 of the signs of the Last Day's approach.
 
 332 NOTES. 
 
 Another of the signs is, " Great distress in the world, so that a 
 ' man when he passes by another's grave shall say, ' AYould to God 
 I were in his pfcce ! ' " — Sale's Preliminary Discourse. 
 
 Note 387, p. 269. — As jirecious as the Cerulean Throne of Cool- 
 burfja." — "On Mahommed Shaw's return to Koolburga (the capital 
 of Dekkan),he made a great festival, and mounted this throne with 
 much pomp and magniiicence, calling it Firozeh, or Cerulean. I 
 have heard sOmG old persons, w^ho saw the throne Firozeh in the 
 riSgn of Sultan Mamood Bhamenee, describe it. They say that it 
 was in length' nine feet, and three in breadth; made of ebony, cov- 
 ered with plates of pure gold, and set with precious stones of im- 
 mense value, livery priqce of the house of Bhamenee, who pos- 
 sessed this throrie,'made a poTnt of adding to it some rich stones; 
 so that when in the reign of Sultan Mamood it was taken to pieces, 
 to remove some of the jewels to be set in vases and cups, the jew- 
 ellers valued it at one corore of oons (nearly four millions sterling). 
 I learned also that it -was called Firozeh from being partly enam- 
 elled of a sky-blue color, which was in time totally concealed by 
 the number of jewels." — Feriskia. 
 
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