Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey
Page 98
“And o’er the marble courts,
“And o’er the gorgeous rooms
“Glittering with gems and gold,
“He led the Man of God.
“Is not this a stately pile?”
“Cried the Monarch in his joy.
“Hath ever eye beheld,
“Hath ever thought conceived,
“Place more magnificent?
“Houd, they saw that Heaven imparted
“To thy lips the words of wisdom!
“Look at the riches round
“And value them aright,
“If so thy wisdom can.”
“The Prophet heard his vaunt
“And answered with an aweful smile,
“Costly thy palace King!
“But only in the hour of death
“Man learns to value things like these aright.
“Hast thou a fault to find
“In all thine eyes have seen?
“Again the King exclaimed.
“Yes!” said the man of God;
“The walls are weak, the building ill secured.
“Azrael can enter in!
“The Sarsar can pierce thro’,
“The Icy Wind of Death.
“I was beside the Monarch when he spake....
“Gentle the Prophet spake,
“But in his eye there dwelt
“A sorrow that disturbed me while I gazed,
“The countenance of Shedad fell,
“And anger sate upon his paler lips.
“He to the high tower top the Prophet led,
“And pointed to the multitude,
“And as again they shouted out
“Great is the King! a God upon the Earth!”
“Turned with a threatful smile to Houd,
“Say they aright, O Prophet? is the King
“Great upon earth, a God among mankind?”
“The Prophet answered not,
“His eye rolled round the infinite multitude,
“And into tears he burst.
“Sudden an uproar rose,
“A cry of joy below,
“The Messenger is come!
“Kail from Mecca comes,
“He brings the boon obtained!”
“Forth as we went we saw where overhead
“There hung a deep black cloud,
“On which the multitude
“With joyful eyes looked up
“And blest the coming rain.
“The Messenger addrest the King
“And told his tale of joy.
“To Mecca I repaired,
“By the Red Hillock knelt
“And called on God for rain.
“My prayer ascended and was heard;
“Three clouds appeared in heaven.
“One white, and like the flying cloud of noon,
“One red as it had drunk the evening beams,
“One black and heavy with its load of rain.
“A voice went forth from heaven
“Chuse Kail of the three!”
“I thanked the gracious Power,
“And chose the black cloud, heavy with its wealth.”
“Right! right! a thousand tongues exclaimed,
“And all was merriment and joy.
“Then stood the Prophet up and cried aloud,
“Woe, woe, to Irem! woe to Ad!
“DEATH is gone up into her palaces!
“Woe! woe! a day of guilt and punishment,
“A day of desolation!”
“As he spake
“His large eye rolled in horror, and so deep
“His tone, it seemed some Spirit from within
“Breathed thro’ his moveless lips the unearthly voice.
“All looks were turned to him. “O Ad!” he cried,
“Dear native land, by all rememberances
“Of childhood, by all joys of manhood dear;
“O Vale of many Waters! morn and night
“My age must groan for you, and to the grave
“Go down in sorrow. Thou wilt give thy fruits,
“But who shall gather them? thy grapes will ripen,
“But who shall tread the wine-press? Fly the wrath,
“Ye who would live and save your souls alive!
“For strong is his right hand that bends the Bow,
“The Arrows that he shoots are sharp,
“And err not from their aim!”
“With that, a faithful few
“Prest thro’ the throng to join him. Then arose
“Mockery and mirth; “go bald head!” and they mixed
“Curses with laughter. He set forth, yet once
“Looked back, — his eye fell on me, and he called
“Aswad!”... it startled me,... it terrified,...
“Aswad!” again he called,... and I almost
“Had followed him. O moment fled too soon!
“O moment irrecoverably lost!
“The shouts of mockery made a coward of me;
“He went, and I remained, in fear of MAN!”
“He went, and darker grew
“The deepening cloud above.
“At length it opened, and.... O God! O God!
“There were no waters there!
“There fell no kindly rain!
“The Sarsar from its womb went forth,
“The Icy Wind of Death.”
“They fell around me, thousands fell around,
“The King and all his People fell.
“All! all! they perished all!
“I... only I... was left.
“There came a Voice to me and said,
“In the Day of Visitation,
“In the fearful Hour of Judgement,
“God hath remembered thee.”
“When from an agony of prayer I rose
“And from the scene of death
“Attempted to go forth,
“The way was open, I beheld
“No barrier to my steps.
“But round these bowers the Arm of God
“Had drawn a mighty chain,
“A barrier that no human force might break.
“Twice I essayed to pass.
“With that the voice was heard,
“O Aswad be content, and bless the Lord!
“One righteous deed hath saved
“Thy soul from utter death.
“O Aswad, sinful man!
“When by long penitence
“Thou feelest thy soul prepared,
“Breathe up the wish to die,
“And Azrael comes, obedient to the prayer.”
“A miserable man
“From Earth and Heaven shut out,
“I heard the dreadful voice.
“I looked around my prison place,
“The bodies of the dead were there,
“Where’er I looked they lay.
“They mouldered, mouldered here,...
“Their very bones have crumbled into dust,
“So many years have past!
“So many weary ages have gone by!
“And still I linger here!
“Still groaning with the burthen of my sins
“Have never dared to breathe
“The prayer to be released.”
“Oh! who can tell the unspeakable misery
“Of solitude like this!
“No sound hath ever reached my ear
“Save of the passing wind....
“The fountain’s everlasting flow;
“The forest in the gale,
“The pattering of the shower,
“Sounds dead and mournful all.
“No bird hath ever closed her wing
“Upon these solitary bowers,
“No insect sweetly buzzed amid these groves,
“From all things that have life,
“Save only me, concealed.
“This Tree alone that o’er my head
“Hangs, down its hosp
itable boughs,
“And bends its whispering leaves
“As tho’ to welcome me,
“Seems to partake of life;
“I love it as my friend, my only friend!
“I know not for what ages I have dragged
“This miserable life,
“How often I have seen
“These antient trees renewed,
“What countless generations of mankind
“Have risen and fallen asleep,
“And I remain the same!
“My garment hath not waxed old,
“Nor the sole of my shoe hath worn.
“I dare not breathe the prayer to die,
“O merciful Lord God!...
“But when it is thy will,
“But when I have atoned
“For mine iniquities,
“And sufferings have made pure
“My soul with sin defiled,
“Release me in thine own good time,...
“I will not cease to praise thee, O my God!”
Silence ensued awhile,
Then Zeinab answered him.
“Blessed art thou, O Aswad! for the Lord
“Who saved thy soul from Hell,
“Will call thee to him in his own good time.
“And would that when my heart
“Breathed up the wish to die,
“Azrael might visit me!
“Then would I follow where my babes are gone,
“And join Hodeirah now!”
She ceased, and the rushing of wings
Was heard in the stillness of night,
And Azrael, the Death-Angel stood before them.
His countenance was dark,
Solemn, but not severe,
It awed but struck no terror to the heart.
“Zeinab, thy wish is heard!
“Aswad, thy hour is come!”
They fell upon the ground and blest the voice,
And Azrael from his sword
Let drop the drops of bitterness and death.
“Me too! me too!” young Thalaba exclaimed:
As wild with grief he kissed
His Mother’s livid hand,
His Mother’s quivering lips,
“O Angel! take me too!
“Son of Hodeirah!” the Death-Angel cried,
“It is not yet the hour.
“Son of Hodeirah, thou art chosen forth
“To do the will of Heaven;
“To avenge thy Father’s death,
“The murder of thy race,
“To work the mightiest enterprise
“That mortal man hath wrought.
“Live! and remember Destiny
“Hath marked thee from mankind!”
He ceased, and he was gone.
Young Thalaba looked round,...
The Palace and the groves were seen no more,
He stood amid the Wilderness, alone.
THALABA THE DESTROYER. BOOK II.
Not in the desert
Son of Hodeirah
Wert thou abandoned!
The coexistent fire,
That in the Dens of Darkness burnt for thee,
Burns yet, and yet shall burn.
In the Domdaniel caverns
Under the Roots of the Ocean,
Met the Masters of the Spell.
Before them in the vault,
Blazing unfuelled from the floor of rock,
Ten magic flames arose.
“Burn mystic fires!” Abdaldar cried,
“Burn whilst Hodeirah’s dreaded race exist.
“This is the appointed hour,
“The hour that shall secure these dens of night.”
“Dim they burn,” exclaimed Lobaba,
“Dim they burn, and now they waver!
“Okba lifts the arm of death,
“They waver,... they go out!
“Curse on his hasty hand!”
Khawla exclaimed in wrath,
The woman-fiend exclaimed,
“Curse on his hasty hand, the fool hath failed!
“Eight only are gone out.”
A Teraph stood against the cavern side,
A new-born infant’s head,
That Khawla at his hour of birth had seized
And from the shoulders wrung.
It stood upon a plate of gold,
An unclean Spirit’s name inscribed beneath.
The cheeks were deathy dark,
Dark the dead skin upon the hairless skull;
The lips were bluey pale;
Only the eyes had life,
They gleamed with demon light.
“Tell me!” quoth Khawla, “is the Fire gone out
“That threats the Masters of the Spell?”
The dead lips moved and spake,
“The Fire still burns that threats
“The Masters of the Spell.”
“Curse on thee, Okba!” Khawla cried,
As to the den the Sorcerer came,
He bore the dagger in his hand
Hot from the murder of Hodeirah’s race.
“Behold those unextinguished flames!
“The fire still burns that threats
“The Masters of the Spell!
“Okba, wert thou weak of heart?
“Okba, wert thou blind of eye?
“Thy fate and ours were on the lot,
“And we believed the lying stars
“That said thy hand might seize the auspicious hour!
“Thou hast let slip the reins of Destiny,...
“Curse thee, curse thee, Okba!”
The Murderer answering said,
“O versed in all enchanted lore,
“Thou better knowest Okba’s soul.
“Eight blows I struck, eight home-driven blows,
“Needed no second stroke
“From this envenomed blade.
“Ye frown at me as if the will had failed,
“As if ye did not know
“My double danger from Hodeirah’s race,
“The deeper hate I feel,
“The stronger motive that inspired my arm!
“Ye frown as if my hasty fault,
“My ill-directed blow
“Had spared the enemy,
“And not the stars that would not give,
“And not your feeble spells
“That could not force, the sign
“Which of the whole was he!
“Did ye not bid me strike them all?
“Said ye not root and branch should be destroyed?
“I heard Hodeirah’s dying groan,
“I heard his Children’s shriek of death,
“And sought to consummate the work,
“But o’er the two remaining lives
“A cloud unpierceable had risen,
“A cloud that mocked my searching eyes.
“I would have probed it with the dagger-point,
“The dagger was repelled,
“A Voice came forth and cried
“Son of Perdition, cease! thou canst not change
“What in the Book of Destiny is written.”
Khawla to the Teraph turned,
“Tell me where the Prophet’s hand
“Hides our destined enemy?”
The dead lips spake again,
“I view the seas, I view the land,
“I search the ocean and the earth!
“Not on Ocean is the Boy,
“Not on Earth his steps are seen.”
“A mightier power than we,” Lobaba cried,
“Protects our destined foe!
“Look! look! one fire burns dim!
“It quivers! it goes out!”
It quivered, it was quenched.
One flame alone was left,
A pale blue flame that trembled on the earth,
A hovering light upon whose shrinking edge
The darkness seemed to press.
Stronger it grew, and spread
Its lucid swell around,
Extending now where all the ten had stood,
With lustre more than all.
At that protentous sight,
The children of Evil trembled
And Terror smote their souls.
Over the den the fire
Its fearful splendour cast,
The broad base rolling up in wavy streams,
Bright as the summer lightning when it spreads
Its glory o’er the midnight heaven.
The Teraphs eyes were dimmed,
That like two twinkling stars
Shone in the darkness late.
The Sorcerers on each other gazed,
And every face all pale with fear,
And ghastly in that light was seen
Like a dead man’s by the sepulchral lamp.
Even Khawla fiercest of the enchanter brood
Not without effort drew
Her fear suspended breath.
Anon a deeper rage
Inflamed her reddening eye.
“Mighty is thy power, Mohammed!”
Loud in blasphemy she cried,
“But Eblis would not stoop to man
“When Man fair statured as the stately palm,
“From his Creator’s hand
“Was undefiled and pure.
“Thou art mighty, O Son of Abdallah!
“But who is he of woman born
“That shall vie with the might of Eblis?
“That shall rival the Prince of the Morning?”
She said, and raised her skinny hand
As in defiance to high Heaven,
And stretched her long lean finger forth
And spake aloud the words of power.
The Spirits heard her call,
And lo! before her stands
Her Demon Minister.
“Spirit!” the Enchantress cried,
“Where lives the Boy coeval with whose life
“Yon magic fire must burn?”
DEMON.
Mistress of the mighty Spell,
Not on Ocean, not on Earth.
Only eyes that view
Allah’s glory throne,
See his hiding-place.
From some believing Spirit, ask and learn.
“Bring the dead Hodeirah here,”
Khawla cried, “and he shall tell.”
The Demon heard her bidding, and was gone.
A moment passed, and at her feet
Hodeirah’s corpse was laid.
His hand still held the sword he grasped in death,
The blood not yet had clotted on his wound.