The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Part 162
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Now lulled to languor scarcely curl The Green Sea wave whose waters gleam Limpid as if her mines of pearl Were melted all to form the stream: And her fair islets small and bright With their green sh.o.r.es reflected there Look like those PERI isles of light That hang by spell-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[257] appear.-- She shuddering turned to read her fate In the fierce eyes that flasht around; And saw those towers all desolate, That o'er her head terrific frowned, As if defying even 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 'tis fled.
And oh, the shoots, the pangs of dread That thro' 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, Such rank and deadly l.u.s.tre dwells As in those h.e.l.lish fires that light The mandrake's charnel leaves at night.[258]
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 flas.h.i.+ng o'er her fiercely now: And shuddering as she hears the tread Of his retiring warrior band.-- Never was pause 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 'twas enough--the shriek that broke From her full bosom told the rest.-- Panting with terror, joy, surprise, The maid but lifts her wandering eyes, To hide them on her Gheber's breast!
'Tis he, 'tis 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 first he smiled 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, s.n.a.t.c.hed 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!
Even he, this youth--tho' dimmed and gone Each Star of Hope that cheered him on-- His glories lost--his cause betrayed-- IRAN, his dear-loved country, made A land of carca.s.ses 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-- Even 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, Beaming that blest a.s.surance 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 quaft, Tho' 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, Where lightly o'er the illumined surge Many a fair bark that, all the day, Had lurkt 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, tho' daylight's Star Had sunk behind the hills of LAR, Were still with lingering glories bright.-- 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 glows above And their pure hearts, to transport given, Swell like the wave and glow like heaven.
But ah! too soon that dream is past-- 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, 'tis near-- "Fly, fly--if yet thou lovest me, fly-- "Soon will his murderous band be here.
"And I shall see thee bleed and die.-- "Hus.h.!.+ heardest thou not the tramp of men "Sounding from yonder fearful glen?-- "Perhaps, even now they climb the wood-- "Fly, fly--tho' still the West is bright, "He'll come--oh! yes--he wants thy blood-- "I know him--he'll not wait for night!"
In terrors even to agony She clings around the wondering Chief;-- "Alas, poor wildered maid! to me "Thou owest this raving trance of grief.
"Lost as I am, naught ever grew "Beneath my shade but perisht 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?
"Why 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 (tho' watching viewless o'er "Thy safety thro' that hour's alarms) "To meet the unmanning sight no more-- "Why have I broke that heart-wrung vow?
"Why weakly, madly met thee now?
"Start not--that noise is but the shock "Of torrents thro' 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 even earth and h.e.l.l unite "In league to storm this Sacred Height, "Fear nothing thou--myself, tonight, "And each o'erlooking star that dwells "Near G.o.d will be thy sentinels;-- "And ere to-morrow's dawn shall glow, "Back to thy sire"-- "To-morrow!--no"-- The maiden screamed--"Thou'lt never see "To-morrow's sun--death, death will be "The night-cry thro' 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, 'tis true-- "Hath sold thee to my vengeful sire; "This morning, with that smile so dire "He wears in joy he told me all "And stampt in triumph thro' our hall, "As tho' 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 'tis truth!"
Oh! colder than the wind that freezes Founts that but now in suns.h.i.+ne 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![259]
But soon the painful chill was o'er, And his great soul herself once more Lookt from his brow in all the rays Of her best, happiest, grandest days.
Never in moment most elate Did that high spirit loftier rise:-- While bright, serene, determinate, His looks are lifted to the skies, As if the signal lights of Fate Were s.h.i.+ning in those awful eyes!
'Tis come--his hour of martyrdom In IRAN'S sacred cause is come; And tho' his life hath past 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 thro' the hours of slavery's night For vengeance on the oppressor's crimes.
This rock, his monument aloft, Shall speak 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 wondering 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 Within them--never to forgive The 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 [260] gaze On the red wreath for martyrs twined.
More proudly than the youth surveys That pile which thro' 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-G.o.d'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, When pitying Heaven to roses turned The death-flames that beneath him burned![261]
With watchfulness the maid attends His rapid glance where'er it bends-- Why shoot his eyes such awful beams?
What plans he now? what thinks or dreams?
Alas! why stands he musing here, When every moment teems with fear?
"HAFED, my own beloved Lord,"
She kneeling cries--"first, last adored!
"If in that soul thou'st ever felt "Half what thy lips impa.s.sioned swore, "Here on my knees that never knelt "To any but their G.o.d before, "I pray thee, as thou lovest 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, "Thro' good and ill, thro' storm and s.h.i.+ne, "The world's a world of love for us!
"On some calm, blessed sh.o.r.e we'll dwell, "Where 'tis no crime to love too well; "Where thus to wors.h.i.+p tenderly "An erring child of light like thee "Will not be sin--or if it be "Where we may weep our faults away, "Together kneeling, night and day, "Thou, for _my_ sake, at ALLA'S shrine, "And I--at _any_ G.o.d's, for thine!"
Wildly these pa.s.sionate words she spoke-- Then hung her head and wept for shame; 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 pa.s.sing o'er his soul.
Starting he brusht 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 tho' subdued the 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, And smiled and blest him while he said,-- "Yes--if there be some happier sphere "Where fadeless truth like ours 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'll 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[262] hung, and blew A signal deep and dread as those The storm-fiend at his rising blows.-- Full well his Chieftains, sworn and true Thro' life and death, that signal knew; For 'twas the appointed warning-blast, The 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 When gayly prancing to the clash Of Moorish zel and tymbalon 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,[263]
Looking as if the steeds they rode Were winged and every Chief a G.o.d!
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 past!
'Twas 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 speed--night gems the skies-- And oh, how soon, ye blessed eyes That look from heaven ye may behold Sights that will turn your star-fires 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 with gentle care, Hath placed her in the sheltered seat And prest her hand--that lingering press Of hands that for the last time sever; Of hearts whose pulse of happiness When that hold breaks is dead for ever.
And yet to _her_ this sad caress Gives hope--so fondly hope can err!
'Twas joy, she thought, joy's mute excess-- Their happy flight's dear harbinger; 'Twas warmth--a.s.surance--tenderness-- 'Twas any thing but leaving her.
"Haste, haste!" she cried, "the clouds grow dark, "But still, ere night, we'll reach the bark; "And by to-morrow's dawn--oh bliss!
"With thee upon the sun-bright deep, "Far off, I'll but remember this, "As some dark vanisht 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,[264]
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 "But near each other while 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-- "HAFED! 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 lookt your last:-- Your hearts should both have broken then:-- The dream is o'er--your doom is cast-- You'll never meet on earth again!
Alas for him who hears her cries!
Still half-way down the steep he stands, Watching with fixt and feverish eyes The glimmer 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.
But see--he starts--what heard he then?
That dreadful shout!--across the glen From the land-side it comes and loud Rings thro' the chasm, as if the crowd Of fearful things that haunt that dell Its Ghouls and Divs and shapes of h.e.l.l, And all in one dread howl broke out, So loud, so terrible that shout!
"They come--the Moslems come!"--he cries, His proud soul mounting to his eyes,-- "Now, Spirits of the Brave, who roam "Enfranchised thro' 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, reclined 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 thro' the chasm--oh! who that then Had seen those listening warrior-men, With their swords graspt, their eyes of flame Turned on their Chief--could doubt the shame, The indignant shame with which they thrill To hear those shouts and yet stand still?
He read their thoughts--they were his own-- "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?
The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Part 162
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The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Part 162 summary
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