Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey

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Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey Page 108

by Robert Southey


  Turns round with quick affright

  And clings to his nurse’s neck.

  Hark! hark! the hunter’s cry

  Mohareb gone to the chase!

  The dogs with eager yell

  Are struggling to be free;

  The hawks in frequent stoop

  Token their haste for flight;

  And couchant on the saddle-bow,

  With tranquil eyes and talons sheathed

  The ounce expects his liberty.

  Propt on the staff that shakes

  Beneath her trembling weight,

  The Old Woman sees them pass.

  Halloa! halloa!

  The game is up!

  The dogs are loosed

  The deer bounds over the plain,

  The lagging dogs behind

  Follow from afar!

  But lo! the Falcon o’er his head.

  Hovers with hostile wings,

  And buffets him with blinding strokes!

  Dizzy with the deafening strokes

  In blind and interrupted course,

  Poor beast be struggles on;

  And now the dogs are nigh!

  How his heart pants! you see

  The panting of his heart;

  And tears like human tears

  Roll down, along the big veins, fever-swoln;

  And now the death-sweat darkens his dun hide!

  His fear, his groans, his agony, his death,

  Are the sport and the joy and the triumph!

  Halloa! another prey,

  The nimble Antelope!

  The Ounce is freed; one spring

  And his talons are sheathed in her shoulders,

  And his teeth are red in her gore.

  There came a sound from the wood,

  Like the howl of the winter wind at night

  Around a lonely dwelling,

  The Ounce whose gums were warm in his prey

  He hears the summoning sound.

  In vain his master’s voice

  No longer dreaded now,

  Calls and recalls with threatful tone.

  Away to the forest he goes,

  For that Old Woman had laid

  Her shrivelled finger on her shrivelled lips,

  And whistled with a long, long breath,

  And that long breath was the sound

  Like the howl of the winter wind at night

  Around a lonely dwelling.

  Mohareb knew her not,

  As to the chase he went,

  The glance of his proud eye

  Passing in scorn o’er age and wretchedness.

  She stands in the depth of the wood,

  And panting to her feet

  Fawning and fearful creeps the charmed ounce.

  Well mayst thou fear, and vainly dost thou fawn!

  Her form is changed, her visage new,

  Her power, her heart the same!

  It is Khawla that stands in the wood.

  She knew the place where the mandrake grew,

  And round the neck of the ounce,

  And round the mandrake’s head

  She tightens the ends of her cord.

  Her ears are closed with wax,

  And her prest finger fastens them,

  Deaf as the Adder, when with grounded head

  And circled form, her avenues of sound

  Barred safely, one slant eye

  Watches the charmer’s lips

  Waste on the wind his baffled witchery.

  The spotted ounce so beautiful

  Springs forceful from the scourge:

  The dying plant all agony,

  Feeling its life-strings crack,

  Uttered the unimaginable groan

  That none can hear and live.

  Then from her victim servant Khawla loosed

  The precious poison, next with naked hand

  She plucked the boughs of the manchineel.

  Then of the wormy wax she took,

  That from the perforated tree forced out,

  Bewrayed its insect-parent’s work within.

  In a cavern of the wood she sits

  And moulds the wax to human form,

  And as her fingers kneaded it,

  By magic accents, to the mystic shape

  Imparted with the life of Thalaba,

  In all its passive powers

  Mysterious sympathy.

  With the Mandrake and the Manchineel

  She builds her pile accurst.

  She lays her finger to the pile,

  And blue and green, the flesh

  Glows with emitted fire,

  A fire to kindle that strange fuel meet.

  Before the fire she placed the imaged wax,

  “There waste away!” the Enchantress cried,

  “And with thee waste Hodeirah’s Son!”

  Fool! fool! go thaw the everlasting ice,

  Whose polar mountains bound the human reign.

  Blindly the wicked work

  The righteous will of Heaven!

  The doomed Destroyer wears Abdaldar’s ring!

  Against the danger of his horoscope

  Yourselves have shielded him!

  And on the sympathizing wax

  The unadmitted flames play powerlessly,

  As the cold moon-beam on a plain of snow.

  “Curse thee! curse thee!” cried the fiendly woman,

  “Hast thou yet a spell of safety?”

  And in the raging flames

  She cast the imaged wax.

  It lay amid the flames,

  Like Polycarp of old,

  When by the glories of the burning stake

  O’er vaulted, his grey hairs

  Curled, life-like, to the fire

  That haloed round his saintly brow.

  “Wherefore is this!” cried Khawla, and she stamped

  Thrice on the cavern floor,

  “Maimuna! Maimuna!”

  Thrice on the floor she stamped,

  Then to the rocky gateway glanced

  Her eager eyes, and Maimuna was there.

  “Nay Sister, nay!” quoth she, “Mohareb’s life

  “Is linked with Thalaba’s!

  “Nay Sister, nay! the plighted oath!

  “The common Sacrament!”

  “Idiot!” said Khawla, “one must die, or all!

  “Faith kept with him were treason to the rest.

  “Why lies the wax, like marble, in the fire?

  “What powerful amulet

  “Protects Hodeirah’s son?”

  Cold, marble-cold, the wax

  Lay on the raging pile,

  Cold in that white intensity of fire.

  The Bat that with her hooked and leathery wings

  Clung to the cave-roof, loosed her hold,

  Death-sickening with the heat;

  The Toad who to the darkest nook had crawled

  Panted fast with fever pain;

  The Viper from her nest came forth

  Leading her quickened brood,

  Who sportive with the warm delight, rolled out

  Their thin curls, tender as the tendril rings,

  Ere the green beauty of their brittle youth

  Grows brown, and toughens in the summer sun.

  Cold, marble-cold, the wax

  Lay on the raging pile,

  The silver quivering of the element

  O’er its pale surface shedding a dim gloss.

  Amid the red and fiery smoke,

  Watching the strange portent,

  The blue-eyed Sorceress and her Sister stood,

  Seeming a ruined Angel by the side

  Of Spirit born in Hell.

  At length raised Maimuna her thoughtful eyes,

  “Whence Sister was the wax

  “The work of the worm, or the bee?

  “Nay then I marvel not!

  “It were as wise to bring from Ararat

  “The fore-world’s wood to build the magic pile,

  “And feed it from
the balm bower, thro’ whose veins

  “The Martyr’s blood sends such a virtue out,

  “That the fond Mother from beneath its shade

  “Wreathes the Cerastes round her playful child.

  “This the eternal, universal strife!

  “There is a grave-wax,... I have seen the Gouls

  “Fight for the dainty at their banquetting.”...

  “Excellent witch!” quoth Khawla; and she went

  To the cave arch of entrance, and scowled up,

  Mocking the blessed Sun,

  “Shine thou in Heaven, but I will shadow Earth!

  “Thou wilt not shorten day,

  “But I will hasten darkness!” Then the Witch

  Began a magic song,

  One long low tone thro’ teeth half-closed,

  Thro’ lips slow-moving muttered slow,

  One long-continued breath,

  Till to her eyes a darker yellowness

  Was driven, and fuller swoln the prominent veins

  On her loose throat grew black.

  Then looking upward thrice she breathed

  Into the face of Heaven,

  The baneful breath infected Heaven;

  A mildewing mist it spread

  Darker and darker; so the evening sun

  Poured his unentering glory on the mist,

  And it was night below.

  “Bring now the wax,” quoth Khawla, “for thou knowest

  “The mine that yields it!” forth went Maimuna,

  In mist and darkness went the Sorceress forth.

  And she has reached the place of Tombs,

  And in their sepulchres the dead

  Feel feet unholy trampling over them.

  Thou startest Maimuna,

  Because the breeze is in thy lilted locks!

  Is Khawla’s spell so weak?

  Sudden came the breeze and strong;

  The mist that in the labouring lungs was felt

  So heavy late, flies now before the gale,

  Thin as an Infant’s breath

  Seen in the sunshine of an autumn frost.

  Sudden it came and soon its work was done,

  And suddenly it ceased;

  Cloudless and calm it left the firmament,

  And beautiful in the blue sky

  Arose the summer Moon.

  She heard the quickened action of her blood,

  She felt the fever in her cheeks.

  Daunted, yet desperate, in a tomb

  Entering, with impious hand she traced

  Circles, and squares, and trines,

  And magic characters,

  Till riven by her charms the grave

  Yawned and disclosed its dead,

  Maimuna’s eyes were opened, and she saw

  The secrets of the grave.

  There sate a Spirit in the vault,

  In shape, in hue, in lineaments like life,

  And by him couched, as if intranced,

  The hundred-headed Worm that never dies.

  “Nay Sorceress! not to-night!” the Spirit cried,

  “The flesh in which I sinned may rest to-night

  “From suffering; all things, even I to-night,

  “Even the Damned repose!”

  The flesh of Maimuna

  Crept on her bones with terror, and her knees

  Trembled with their trembling weight.

  “Only this sabbath! and at dawn the Worm

  “Will wake, and this poor flesh must grow to meet

  “The gnawing of his hundred poison-mouths!

  “God! God! Is there no mercy after death?”

  Soul-struck she rushed away,

  She fled the place of Tombs,

  She cast herself upon the earth,

  All agony and tumult and despair.

  And in that wild and desperate agony

  Sure Maimuna had died the utter death,

  If aught of evil had been possible

  On this mysterious night;

  For this was that most holy night

  When all created things know and adore

  The Power that made them; insects, beasts, and birds,

  The water-dwellers, herbs and trees and stones,

  Yea Earth and Ocean and the infinite Heaven

  With all its worlds. Man only does not know

  The universal sabbath, does not join

  With Nature in her homage. Yet the prayer

  Flows from the righteous with intenser love,

  A holier calm succeeds, and sweeter dreams

  Visit the slumbers of the penitent.

  Therefore on Maimuna the elements,

  Shed healing; every breath she breathed was balm.

  Was not a flower but sent in incense up

  Its richest odours, and the song of birds

  Now, like the music of the Seraphim,

  Entered her soul, and now

  Made silence aweful by their sudden pause.

  It seemed as if the quiet moon

  Poured quietness, its lovely light

  Was like the smile of reconciling Heaven.

  Is it the dew of night

  That down her glowing cheek

  Shines in the moon-beam? oh! she weeps... she weeps

  And the Good Angel that abandoned her

  At her hell-baptism, by her tears drawn down

  Resumes his charge, then Maimuna

  Recalled to mind the double oracle;

  Quick as the lightening flash

  Its import glanced upon her, and the hope

  Of pardon and salvation rose,

  As now she understood

  The lying prophecy of truth.

  She pauses not, she ponders not,

  The driven air before her fanned the face

  Of Thalaba, and he awoke and saw

  The Sorceress of the silver locks.

  One more permitted spell!

  She takes the magic chain.

  With the wide eye of wonder, Thalaba

  Watches her snowy fingers round and round

  Wind the loosening chain.

  Again he hears the low sweet voice,

  The low sweet voice so musical,

  That sure it was not strange,

  If in those unintelligible tones

  Was more than human potency,

  That with such deep and undefined delight,

  Filled the surrendered soul.

  The work is done, the song is ceased;

  He wakes as from a dream of Paradise

  And feels his fetters gone, and with the burst

  Of wondering adoration praises God.

  Her charm has loosed the chain it bound,

  But massy walls and iron gates

  Confine Hodeirah’s son.

  Heard ye not, Genii of the Air, her spell,

  That o’er her face there flits

  The sudden flush of fear?

  Again her louder lips repeat the charm,

  Her eye is anxious, her cheek pale,

  Her pulse plays fast and feeble.

  Nay Maimuna! thy power has ceased,

  And the wind scatters now

  The voice that ruled it late.

  “Pray for me, Thalaba,” she cried,

  “For death and judgement are at hand!”

  All night in agony,

  She feared the instant blow of Hell’s revenge.

  At dawn the sound of gathering multitudes

  Led to the prison bars her dreading eye.

  What spectacle invites

  The growing multitude,

  That torrent-like they roll along?

  Boys and grey-headed age; the Mother comes

  Leading her child, who at arm’s length

  Outstripping her, looks back

  And bids her hasten more.

  Why does the City pour her thousands forth?

  What glorious pageantry

  Makes her streets desolate, and silences

  Her empty dwellings? comes the bridal pomp,
>
  And have the purveyors of imperial lust

  Torn from their parents arms again

  The virgin beauties of the land?

  Will elephants in gilded cages bear

  The imprisoned victims? or may yet their eyes

  With a last look of liberty, behold

  Banners and guards and silk-arched palanquins.

  The long procession, and the gorgeous pomp

  Of their own sacrifice?

  On the house tops and in the windows ranged

  Face above face, they wait

  The coming spectacle;

  The trees are clustered, and below the dust

  Thro’ the thronged populace

  Can find no way to rise.

  He comes! the Sultan! hark the swelling horn,

  The trumpet’s spreading blair,

  The timbrel tinkling as its silver bells

  Twinkle aloft, and the shrill cymbal’s sound,

  Whose broad brass flashes in the morning sun

  Accordant light and music! closing all

  The heavy Gong is heard,

  That falls like thunder on the dizzy ear.

  On either hand the thick-wedged crowd

  Fall from the royal path.

  Recumbent in the palanquin he casts

  On the wide tumult of the waving throng

  A proud and idle eye.

  Now in his tent alighted, he receives

  Homage and worship. The slave multitude

  With shouts of blasphemy adore

  Him, father of his people! him their Lord!

  Great King, all-wise, all-mighty, and all-good!

  Whose smile was happiness, whose frown was death,

  Their present Deity!

  With silken cords his slaves

  Wave the silk fan, that waving o’er his head

  Freshens the languid air.

  Others the while shower o’er his robes

  The rose’s treasured sweets,

  Rich odours burn before him, ambergrese,

  Sandal and aloe wood,

  And thus inhaling the voluptuous air

  He sits to watch the agony,

  To hear the groan of death.

  At once all sounds are hushed,

  All eyes take one direction, for he comes,

  The object he of this day’s festival,

  Of all this expectation and this joy,

  The Christian captive. Hark! so silently

  They stand, the clanking of his chain is heard.

  And he has reached the place of suffering now.

  And as the death’s-men round his ancles bind

  The cords and to the gibbet swing him up,

 

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