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A last and solitary link
Too deep for eye or ear to know Of those stupendous chains that reach If 'twere the sea's imprison d flow, From the broad Caspian's reedy brink
Or floods of ever-restless flame. Down winding to the Green Sea beach. For each ravine, each rocky spire, Arouud its base the bare rocks stood, Of that vast mountain stood on fire;' Like naked giants, in the flood, And, though for ever past the days.
As if to guard the gulf across ; When God was worshipp'd in the blaze While, on its peak, that braved the sky, That from its lofty altar shone, A ruin'd temple tower'd, so bigh Though fled the priests, the votaries That oft the sleeping albatross?
gone, Struck the wild ruins with her wing, Still did the mighty flame burn on And from her cloud-rock'd slumbering Through chance and change, through Started—to find man's dwelling there good and ill, In her own silent fields of air !
Like its own God's eternal will, Beneath, terrific caverns gave Deep, constant, bright, unquenchable ! Dark welcome to each stormy wave That dash'd, like midnight revellers, Thither the vanquished Hafed led
His little army's last remains ;And such the strange, mysterious din
Welcome, terrific glen !' he said, At times throughout those caverns " Thy, gloom, that Eblis' self might roll’d,
dreal, And such the fearful wonders told Is heaven to him who flies from Of restless sprites imprison’d there,
chains ! That bold were Moslem, who would O'er a dark, narrow bridgeway, known dare,
To him and to his chiefs alone, At twilight hour, to steer bis skiff They cross'd the chasm and gain'd the Beneath the Gheber's lonely cliff.
* This home,' he cried, 'at least is Ou the land side, those towers sublime, That seem'd above the grasp of Time, Here we may bleed, unmock'd by Were severd from the haunts of men hymns By a wide, deep, and wizard glen, Of Moslem triumph o'er our head ; So fathonless, so full of gloom, Here we may fall, nor leave our limbs No eye could pierce the void be. To quiver to the Moslem's tread. tween;
Stretch'd on this rock, while vultures' It seem'd a place where Gholes might beaks come,
Are whetted on our yet warm cheeks, With their foul banquets from the Here, --- happy that no tyrant's eye tomb,
Gloats on our torments-we may die ! And in its caverns feed unseen. 'Twas night when to those towers they Like distant thunder, from below,
came, The sound of many torrents came; And gloomily the fitful flame,
These birds sleep in the air. They are most those who essayed in former days to ascend or common about the Cape of Good Hope. explore it.'--Pottinger's Beloochistan.
That bold were Moslem, who would dare, The Ghebers generally built their temples
over subterraneous fires.
• Still did the mighty flame burn on.-' At the * There is an extraordinary hill in this neigh- city of Yezd, in Persia, which is distinguished by bourhood, called Kohé Gubr, or the Guebre's the appellation of the Darüb Abadut, or Seat of Mountain. It rises in the form of a lofty cupola, Religion, the Guebres are permitted to have an and on the summit of it, they say, are the re- Atush Kudu, or Fire Temple (which, they assert, mains of an Atush Kudu, or f'ire Temple. It is has had the sacred fire in it since the days of superstitiously held to be the residence of Deeves, Zoroaster), in their own compartment of the or Sprites, and many marvellous stories are re- city; but for this indulgence they are indebted to counted of the injury and witchcraft suffered by the avarice, not the tolerance, of td. Persias sate;
That from the ruin'd altar broke, When hope's expiring throb is o'er, Glared on his features, as he spoke :- And e'en despair can prompt no more, • 'Tis o'er-what men could do, we've This spot shall be the sacred grave done
Of the last few who, vainly brave, If Iran will look tamely on,
Die for the land they cannot save ! And see her priests, her warriors, driven His chiefs stood round-each shining Before a sensual bigot's nod,
blade A wretch, who takes his lusts to heaven, Upon the broken altar laid
And makes a pander of his God ! And though so wild and desolate
Men, in whose veins-O last disgrace!
If they will court this upstart race, Was seen the feast of fruits and Howers,
Why, let them—till the land's despair there, Cries out to heaven, and bondage grows
Nor cbarmed leaf of pure pomegra* Too vile for e'en the vile to bear !
nate ;' Till shame at last, long hidden, burns Nor hymn, nor censer's fragrant air, Their inmost core, and
conscience turns Nor symbol of their worshipp'd each coward tear the slave lets fall
planet ;5 Back on his heart in drops of gall! Yet the same God that heard their sires But here, at least, are arms unchain'd, Heard them, while on that altar's fires And souls that thraldom never They swore the latest holiest deed stain'd:
Of the few hearts, still left to bleed, This spot, at least, no foot of slave Should be, in Iran's injured name, Or satrap ever yet profaned ;
To die upon that Mount of FlameAnd, though but few-though fast The last of all her patriot line, the wave
Before her last untrampled shrine ! Of life is ebbing from our veins, Brave, suffering souls ! they little knew Enough for vengeance still remains. How many a tear their injuries drew As panthers, after set of sun,
From one meek maid, one gentle foe, Rush from the roots of Lebanon, Whom Love first toucb'd with others' Across the dark sea-robber's way, We'll bound upon our startled prey; Whose life, as free from thought as sin, And when some hearts that proudest Slept like a lake, till Love threw in swell
His talisman, and woke the tide, Have felt our falchion's last farewell ; And spread its trembling circles wide.
government, which_taxes them at twenty-five leaf to chew in the mouth, to cleanse them from rupees each man.'--Pottinger's Beloochistan. inward uncleanness.'
Ancient heroes of ersia, Among the S'Early in the morning they (the Parsees or Guebres there are some who boast their descent Ghebers at Oulam) go in crowds to pay their defron Rustam.'-Stephen's Persia.
votions to the Sun, to whom upon all the altars 2 Vide Russel's account of the panthers at there are spheres consecrated, made by magic, tacking travellers in the night on the sea-shore resembling the circles of the sun, and when the about the roots of Lebanon.
sun rises, these orbs seem to be inflamed, and to 3 ‘Among other ceremonies the Magi used to turn round with a great noise. They have every place upon the tops of' high towers various kinds one a censer in their hands, and offer incense to of rich viands, upon which it was supposed the the sun.'—Rabbi Benjamin Peris and the spirits of their departed heroes re
* while on that altar's fires galed therr selves.'-Richardson.
They swore,' * In the ceremonies of the Ghebers round their Nul d'entre eux oseroit se perjurer, quand il a fire, as described by Lord, the Daroo,' he says, pris à témoin cet élément terrible et vengeur.' "giveth them water to drink, and a pomegranate Encyclopédie Françoise.
Once, Emir, thy unheeding child, He would have mark'd all this, and 'Mid all this havoc, bloom'd and known smiled,
Such change is wrought by love alone ! Tranquil as on some battle-plain The Persian lily shines and towers, 2 Ah! not the love that should have
bless'd Before the combat's reddening stain Hath fall’n upon her golden flowers.
So young, so innocent a breast; Light-hearted maid, unawed, unmoved, Not the pure, open, prosperous love, While heaven but spared the sire she That, pledged on earth, and seal'a
Grows in the world's approving eyes, Once at thy evening tales of blood Unlistening and aloof she stood-
In friendship’s smile and home's
caress, And oft, when thou hast paced along
Collecting all the heart's sweet ties Thy haram halls with furious heat, Hast thou not cursed her cheerful song; No, Hinda, no—thy fatal flame
Into one knot of happiness! That came across thee, calm and
Is nursed in silence, sorrow, shame,sweet,
A passion, without hope or pleasure, Like lutes of angels, touch'd so near
In thy soul's darkness buried deep, Hell's confines, that the damn'd can
It lies, like some ill-gotten treasure, — hear? Far other feelings love hath brought- Some idol, without shrine or name, Her soul all flame, her brow all sad- o'er which its pale-eyed votaries keep
Unholy watch, while others sleep! ness, She now has but the one dear thought, Seven uights have darken’d Oman's Sea,
Since last, beneath the moonlight ray, And thinks that o'er, almost to mad
She saw his light oar rapidly ness!
Hurry her Ğheber's bark away,
And still she goes, at midnight hour, for all;'
weep And bitterly, as day on day
To weep alone in that high bower,
And watch, and look along the deep Of rebel carnage fast succeeds,
For him whose smiles first made her She weeps a lover snatch'l
away In every Gheber wretch that bleeds. weep, There's not a sabre meets her eye,
But watching, weeping, all was vain, But with his life-blood seems to
She never saw his bark again.
The owlet's solitary cry, swim ; There's not an arrow wings the sky,
The night-hawk, flitting darkly by,
And oft the hateful carrion bird,
Heavily Happing his clogg'd wing,
ingHad not the inists, that ever rise
Was all she saw, was all she heard. From a foul spirit, dimm'd his eyes, - 'Tis the eighth morn-Al Hassan's brow He would have mark'd her shuddering Is brightened with unusual joyframe,
What mighty mischief glads him now, When from the field of blood he came, Who never smiles but to destroy ? The faltering speech the look The sparkle upon Herkend's Sea, estranged
When toss'd at midnight furiously, a Voice, step, and life, and beauty Tells not of wreck and ruin nigh, changed
More surely than that smiling eye : 1 The Persian lily shines and towers. -'A virid ? It is observed, with respect to the Sea of verdure sucereds the autumnal rains, and the Herkend, that when it is tossed by tempestuous ploughed fields are covered with the Persian lily, winds, it sparkles like fire.'-Travels of Twee of a resplendent vellow colour.'-Russel's Aleppo. Mohammedanz,
•Up, daughter, up—the kerna's breath But cheer thee, maid, -the wind that Has blown a blast would waken death, And yet thou sleep'st-up, child, and is blowing o'er thy feverish brow,
To-day shall waft thee from the shore ; This blessed day for heaven and me, And, ere a drop of this night's gore A day more rich in Pagan blood Have time to chill in yonder towers, Than ever flashd o'er Oman's flood. Thou'lt see thy own sweet Arab Before another dawn shall shine,
bowers !' His head-heart-limbs—will all be mine;
His bloody boast was all too trueThis very night his blood shall steep There lurk'd one wretch among the few These bands all over ere I sleep!' Whom Hafed's eagle eye could count • His blood !' she faintly scream'd-her Around him on that Fiery Mount,mind
One miscreant, who for gold betray'd Still singling one from all mankind. The pathway through the valley's shado
Yes--spite of his ravines and towers, To those bigh towers where Freedom Hafed, my child, this night is ours.
stood Thanks to all-conquering treachery,
In her last hold of flame and blood. Without whose aid the links accursed, Left on the field last dreadful night, That bind these impious slaves, would be When, sallying from their sacred height.
Too strong for Alla's self to burst ! The Ghebers fought hope's farewell That rebel fiend, whose blade has spread fight, My path with piles of Moslem dead, He lay—but died not with the brave; Whose baffling spells had almost driven That sun, which should have gilt his Back from their course the Swords of grave, Heaven,
Saw him a traitor and a slave ;This night, with all his band, shall And, while the few, who thence reknow
turn'd How deep an Arab's steel can go, To their high rocky fortress mourn'd When God and vengeance speed the For him among the matchless dead blow.
They left behind on glory's bed, Ard-Prophet !-by that holy wreath He lived, and, in the face of morn, Thou worst on Ohod's field of death, , Laugh'd them and Faith and Heaven I swear, for every sob that parts
to scorn! In anguish from these heathen hearts, Oh, for a tongue to curse the slave, A gem from Persia's plunder'd mines Whose treason, like a deadly blight, Shall glitter on thy shrine of shrines. Comes o'er the councils of the brave, But ha !-she sinks—that look so wild- And blasts them in their hour of Those livid lips-my child, my child, might! This life of blood befits not thee, May life's unblessed cup for him And thou must back to Araby. Be drugg'd with treacheries to the Ne'er had I risk'd thy timid sex
brim,Inscenes that man himself might dread, With hopes, that but allure to fly, Had I not hoped our every tread With joys, that vanish while he sips, Would be on prostrate Persian Like Dead-Sea fruits, that tempt the
necks, Cursed race, they offer swords instead ! But turn to ashes on the lips !
1 A kind of trumpet :-it 'was that used by Mawashah, the Allet, wreath, or wreathed gar Jamerlane, the sound of which is described as land, he wore at the battle of Ohod. -- Univeraut incommonly dreadful, and so loud as to be heard History. at the distance of several miles.'-- Richardson. 3.They say that there are apple-trees upon the
* Dlohammed had two helmets, an interior and sides of this sea, which bear very lovely fruit, exterior one, the latter of which, called Al but which are all full of ashes.'-Thevenot. The
His country's curse, his children's Are fading off, untouched, untasted, 1 shame,
Like the once glorious hopes he blasted ! Outcast of virtue, peace, and fame, And, when from earth his spirit flies, May he, at last, with lips of flame Just Prophet, let the damn'd-one On the parch'd desert thirsting die,– dwell While lakes that shone in mockery Full in the sight of Paradise, nigh
Beholding heaven, and feeling hell !
LALLA Rooku had had a dream the night before, which, in spite of the im. pending 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 Bidmusk had just passed over. She fancied that she was sailing on that Eastern ocean, where the sea-gipsies, who live for ever on the water, 3 enjoy 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 Maldivian islanders annually send adrift, at the mercy of winds and waves, loaded with perfumes, flowers, and odoriferous 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, every: thing else was forgotten, and the continuance of the story was instantly re. quested by all. Fresh wood of aloes was set to burn in the cassolets ;—the violet sherbets were hastily handed round, and, after a short prelude on his samo is asserted of the oranges there: Vide flower of that dame.' "The wind which blows Witman's Travels in Asiatic Turkey.
these flowers commonly lasts till the end of the The Asphalt Lake, known by the name of the month.-- Le Bruyn. Dead Sea, is very remarkable on account of the 3 Where the sea-gipsies, who live for ever on the considerable proportion of salt which it contains. water.—'The Biajús are of two races; the one is In this respect it surpasses every other known settled on Borneo, and are a rude but warlike water on the surface of the carth. The great and industrious nation, who reckon themselves proportion of bitter-tasted salts is the reason the original possessors of the island of Borneo. why neither animal nor plant can live in this The other is a species of sea-gipsies or itinerant water.' – Klaproth's Chemical Analysis of the fishermen, who live in small covered boats, and Water of the Dead Sea, Annals of Philosophy, enjoy a perpetual summer on the eastern ocean, January, 1813.
shifting leeward from island to island, with the There are, however, shellfish found in its variations of the monsoon. In some of their waters.
customs this singular race resemble the natives Lord Byron has a similar allusion to the fruits of the Maldivia islands. The Maldivians anof the Dead Sea, in that wonderful display of nually launch a small bark, loaded with perfumes, genius, his third Canto of Childe Harold, - gums, flowers, and odoriferous wood, and turn it magnificent beyond anything, perhaps, that even adrift at the mercy of winds and waves, as an he has ever written,
offering to the Spirit of the Winds; and some1. The Suhrab or Water of the Desert is said to times similar offerings are made to the spirit be caused by the rarefaction of the atmosphere whom they term "the King of the Sea." In like from extreme heat: and, which augments the manner the Biajûs perform their offering to ths delusion, it is most frequent in hollows, where god of evil, launching a small bark,loaded with all water might be expected to lodge. I have seen the sins and misfortunes of the nation, which are bushes and trees reflected in it, with as much imagined to fall on the unhappy crew that may accuracy as though it had been the face of a clear be so unlucky as first to meet with it.'-Dr. and still lake.'-Pottinger.
Leyden on the Languages and Literature of the *As to the unbelievers, their works are like a Indo-Chinese Nations. vapour in a plain, which the thirsty traveller * The violet sherbetr.—'The sweet-scented vio. thinketh to be water, until when he cometh let is one of the plants most esteemed, particularly thereto he findeth it to be nothing.-Koran, for its great use in Sorbet, which they make of chap. xxiv.
violet sugar.' --Hasselquist. * A flower that the Bidmusi kad just pass'd *The sherbet they most esteem, and which is over.-- A wind which prevails in February, drunk by the Grand Signor himself, is made of called Bidmusk, from a small and odoriferous violets and sugar.'— Tavernier.