On go the Dogs with rapid step,
The Sledge slides after rapidly,
And now the Sun went down.
They stopt and looked at Thalaba,
The Youth performed his prayer;
They knelt beside him as he prayed
They turned their heads to Mecca
And tears ran down their cheeks.
Then down they laid them in the snow
As close as they could lie,
They laid them down and slept.
And backward in the sledge
The Adventurer laid him down,
There peacefully slept Thalaba,
And the Green Bird of Paradise
Lay in his bosom warm.
The Dogs awoke him at the dawn,
They knelt and wept again;
Then rapidly they journeyed on,
And still the plain was desolate,
Nor tree, nor bush, nor herb!
And ever at the hour of prayer
They stopt, and knelt, and wept;
And still that green and graceful Bird
Was as a friend to him by day,
And ever when at night he slept
Lay in his bosom warm.
In that most utter solitude
It cheered his heart to hear
Her soft and soothing voice;
Her voice was soft and sweet,
It swelled not with the blackbird’s thrill,
Nor warbled rich like the dear bird, that holds
The solitary man
A loiterer in his thoughtful walk at eve;
But if no overflowing joy
Spake in its tones of tenderness
They soothed the softened soul.
Her bill was not the beak of blood;
There was a human meaning in her eye,
Its mild affection fixed on Thalaba
Woke wonder while he gazed
And made her dearer for the mystery.
Oh joy! the signs of life appear,
The first and single Fir
That on the limits of the living world
Strikes in the ice its roots.
Another, and another now;
And now the Larch that flings its arms
Down arching like the falling wave;
And now the Aspin’s scattered leaves
Grey glitter on the moveless twig;
The Poplar’s varying verdure now,
And now the Birch so beautiful,
Light as a Lady’s plumes.
Oh joy! the signs of life! the Deer
Hath left his slot beside the way;
The little Ermine now is seen
White wanderer of the snow;
And now from yonder pines they hear
The clatter of the Grouse’s wings:
And now the snowy Owl pursues
The Traveller’s sledge in hope of food;
And hark! the rosy-breasted bird
The Throstle of sweet song!
Joy! joy! the winter-wilds are left!
Green bushes now and greener grass,
Red thickets here all berry-bright,
And here the lovely flowers!
When the last morning of their way arrived,
After the early prayer,
The Green Bird fixed on Thalaba
A sad and supplicating eye,
And with a human voice she spake,
“Servant of God, I leave thee now.
“If rightly I have guided thee,
“Give me the boon I beg!”
“O gentle Bird,” quoth Thalaba,
“Guide and companion of my dangerous way,
“Friend and sole solace of my solitude,
“How can I pay thee benefits like these!
“Ask what thou wilt that I can give,
“O gentle Bird, the poor return
“Will leave me debtor still!”
“Son of Hodeirah!” she replied,
“When thou shalt see an Old Man crushed beneath
“The burthen of his earthly punishment,
“Forgive him, Thalaba!
“Yea, send a prayer to God on his behalf!”
A flush o’erspread the young Destroyer’s cheek,
He turned his eye towards the Bird
As if in half repentance; for he thought
Of Okba; and his Father’s dying groan
Came on his memory. The celestial Bird
Saw and renewed her speech.
“O Thalaba, if she who in thine arms
“Received the dagger-blow and died for thee,
“Deserve one kind remembrance... save, O save
“The Father that she loved from endless death!”
“Laila! and is it thou?” the youth replied:
“What is there that I durst refuse to thee?
“This is no time to harbour in my heart
“One evil thought... here I put off revenge,
“The last rebellious feeling... be it so!
“God grant to me the pardon that I need
“As I do pardon him!
“But who am I that I should save
“The sinful soul alive?”
“Enough!” said Laila. “When the hour shall come
“Remember me! my task is done.
“We meet again in Paradise!”
She said and shook her wings, and up she soared
With arrow-swiftness thro’ the heights of Heaven.
His aching eye pursued her path,
When starting onward went the Dogs,
More rapidly they hurried on
In hope of near repose.
It was the early morning yet
When by the well-head of a brook
They stopt, their journey done.
The spring was clear, the water deep,
A venturous man were he and rash
That should have probed its depths,
For all its loosened bed below
Heaved strangely up and down,
And to and fro, from side to side
It heaved, and waved, and tossed,
And yet the depths were clear,
And yet no ripple wrinkled o’er
The face of that fair Well.
And on that Well so strange and fair
A little boat there lay,
Without on oar, without a sail,
One only seat it had, one seat
As if for only Thalaba.
And at the helm a Damsel stood
A Damsel bright and bold of eye,
Yet did a maiden modesty
Adorn her fearless brow.
She seemed sorrowful, but sure
More beautiful for sorrow.
To her the Dogs looked wistful up,
And then their tongues were loosed,
“Have we done well, O Mistress dear!
“And shall our sufferings end?”
The gentle Damsel made reply,
“Poor Servants of the God I serve,
“When all this witchery is destroyed
“Your woes will end with mine.
“A hope, alas! how long unknown!
“This new adventurer gives:
“Now God forbid that he, like you,
“Should perish for his fears!
“Poor Servants of the God I serve
“Wait ye the event in peace.”
A deep and total slumber as she spake
Seized them. Sleep on, poor sufferers! be at rest!
Ye wake no more to anguish. Ye have borne
The Chosen, the Destroyer! soon his hand
Shall strike the efficient blow,
Soon shaking off your penal forms shall ye
With songs of joy amid the Eden groves
Hymn the Deliverer’s praise!
Then did the Damsel say to Thalaba,
“The morn is young, the Sun is fair
“And pleasantly thro’ pleasant banks
“The quiet brook flows on....
“Wilt thou embark with me
?
“Thou knowest not the water’s way,
“Think Stranger well! and night must come,...
“Wilt thou embark with me?
“Thro’ fearful perils thou must pass,...
“Stranger, the oppressed ask thine aid!
“Thou wilt embark with me!”
She smiled in tears upon the youth,...
What heart were his who could gainsay
That melancholy smile?
“Sail on, sail on,” quoth Thalaba,
“Sail on, in Allah’s name!”
He sate him on the single seat,
The little boat moved on.
Thro’ pleasant banks the quiet brook
Went winding pleasantly;
By fragrant fir groves now it past,
And now thro’ alder-shores,
Thro’ green and fertile meadows now
It silently ran by.
The flag-flower blossomed on its side,
The willow tresses waved,
The flowing current furrowed round
The water-lilly’s floating leaf,
The fly of green and gauzy wing
Fell sporting down its course.
And grateful to the voyager
The freshness of the running stream,
The murmur round the prow.
The little boat falls rapidly
Adown the rapid brook.
But many a silent spring meantime,
And many a rivulet
Had swoln the growing brook,
And when the southern Sun began
To wind the downward way of heaven,
It ran a river deep and wide
Thro’ banks that widened still.
Then once again the Damsel spake,
“The stream is strong, the river broad,
“Wilt thou go on with me?
“The day is fair but night must come....
“Wilt thou go on with me?
“Far far away the mourner’s eye
“Is watching; for our little boat....
“Thou wilt go on with me!”
“Sail on, sail on,” quoth Thalaba,
“Sail on, in Allah’s name!”
The little boat falls rapidly
Adown the river-stream.
A broader and a broader stream.
That rocked the little boat!
The Cormorant stands upon its shoals,
His black and dripping wings
Half opened to the wind.
The Sun goes down, the crescent Moon
Is brightening in the firmament;
And what is yonder roar
That sinking now and swelling now,
But roaring, roaring still,
Still louder, louder, grows?
The little boat falls rapidly
Adown the rapid tide,
The Moon is bright above,
And the wide Ocean opens on their way!
Then did the Damsel speak again
“Wilt thou go on with me?
“The Moon is bright, the sea is calm
“And I know well the ocean-paths;...
“Wilt thou go on with me?
“Deliverer! yes! thou dost not fear!
“Thou wilt go on with me!”
“Sail on, sail on!” quoth Thalaba
“Sail on, in Allah’s name!”
The Moon is bright, the sea is calm,
The little boat rides rapidly
Across the ocean waves;
The line of moonlight on the deep
Still follows as they voyage on;
The winds are motionless;
The gentle waters gently part
In murmurs round the prow.
He looks above, he looks around,
The boundless heaven, the boundless sea,
The crescent moon, the little boat,
Nought else above, below.
The Moon is sunk, a dusky grey
Spreads o’er the Eastern sky,
The Stars grow pale and paler;
Oh beautiful! the godlike Sun
Is rising o’er the sea!
Without an oar, without a sail
The little boat rides rapidly;...
Is that a cloud that skirts the sea?
There is no cloud in heaven!
And nearer now, and darker now....
It is... it is... the Land!
For yonder are the rocks that rise
Dark in the reddening morn,
For loud around their hollow base
The surges rage and roar.
The little boat rides rapidly,
And now with shorter toss it heaves
Upon the heavier swell;
And now so near they see
The shelves and shadows of the cliff,
And the low-lurking rocks
O’er whose black summits hidden-half
The shivering billows burst.
And nearer now they feel the breaker’s spray.
Then spake the Damsel, “yonder is our path
“Beneath the cavern arch.
“Now is the ebb, and till the ocean-flow
“We cannot over-ride the rocks.
“Go thou and on the shore
“Perform thy last ablutions, and with prayer
“Strengthen thy heart.... I too have need to pray.”
She held the helm with steady hand
Amid the stronger waves,
Thro’ surge and surf she drove,
The adventurer leapt to land.
THALABA THE DESTROYER. BOOK XII.
Then Thalaba drew off Abdaldar’s ring,
And cast it in the sea, and cried aloud,
“Thou art my shield, my trust, my hope, O God!
“Behold and guard me now,
“Thou who alone canst save.
“If from my childhood up, I have looked on
“With exultation to my destiny,
“If, in the hour of anguish, I have felt
“The justice of the hand that chastened me,
“If, of all selfish passions purified,
“I go to work thy will, and from the world
“Root up the ill-doing race,
“Lord! let not thou the weakness of my arm
“Make vain the enterprize!”
The Sun was rising all magnificent,
Ocean and Heaven rejoicing in his beams.
And now had Thalaba
Performed his last ablutions, and he stood
And gazed upon the little boat
Riding the billows near,
Where, like a sea-bird breasting the broad waves,
It rose and fell upon the surge;
Till from the glitterance of the sunny main
He turned his aching eyes,
And then upon the beach he laid him down
And watched the rising tide.
He did not pray, he was not calm for prayer;
His spirit troubled with tumultuous hope
Toiled with futurity.
His brain, with busier workings, felt
The roar and raving of the restless sea,
The boundless waves that rose and rolled and rocked;
The everlasting sound
Opprest him, and the heaving infinite,
He closed his lids for rest.
Meantime with fuller reach and stronger swell
Wave after wave advanced;
Each following billow lifted the last foam
That trembled on the sand with rainbow hues;
The living flower, that, rooted to the rock,
Late from the thinner element
Shrunk down within its purple stem to sleep,
Now feels the water, and again
Awakening blossoms out
All its green anther-necks.
Was there a Spirit in the gale
That fluttered o’er his cheek?
For it came on him like the gentle sun
That plays and dallies o’er the night-
closed flower,
And woos it to unfold anew to joy;
For it came on him as the dews of eve
Descend with healing and with life
Upon the summer mead;
Or liker the first sound of seraph song
And Angel hail, to him
Whose latest sense had shuddered at the groan
Of anguish, kneeling by his death bed-side.
He starts and gazes round to seek
The certain presence. “Thalaba!” exclaimed
The Voice of the Unseen;...
“Father of my Oneiza!” he replied,
“And have thy years been numbered? art thou too
“Among the Angels?” “Thalaba!”
A second and a dearer voice repeats,
“Go in the favour of the Lord
“My Thalaba go on!
“My husband. I have drest our bower of bliss.
“Go and perform the work,
“Let me not longer suffer hope in heaven!”
He turned an eager glance towards the sea,
“Come!” quoth the Damsel, and she drove
Her little boat to land.
Impatient thro’ the rising wave
He rushed to meet its way,
His eye was bright, his cheek was flushed with joy.
“Hast thou had comfort in thy prayers?” she cried,
“Yea,” answered Thalaba,
“A heavenly visitation.” “God be praised!”
She uttered, “then I do not hope in vain!”
And her voice trembled, and her lips
Quivered, and tears ran down.
“Stranger,” quoth she, “in years long past
“Was one who vowed himself
“The Champion of the Lord like thee
“Against the race of Hell.
“Young was he, as thyself,
“Gentle, and yet so brave!
“A lion-hearted man.
“Shame on me, Stranger! in the arms of love
“I held him from his calling, till the hour
“Was past, and then the Angel who should else
“Have crowned him with his glory-wreath,
“Smote him in anger... years and years are gone....
“And in his place of penance he awaits
“Thee the Deliverer, surely thou art he!
“It was my righteous punishment
“In the same youth unchanged and changeless love,
“And fresh affliction and keen penitence
“To abide the written hour when I should waft
“The doomed Destroyer and Deliverer here.
“Remember thou that thy success involves
“No single fate, no common misery.”
Complete Poetical Works of Robert Southey Page 111