"When ALLA from our ranks hath thinn'd away
"Those grosser branches, that kept out his ray
"Of favour from us, and we stand at length
"Heirs of his light and children of his strength,
"The chosen few, who shall survive the fall
“Of Kings and Thrones, triumphant over all!
"Have you then lost, weak murmurers as you are,
“All faith in him, who was your Light, your Star?
"Have you forgot the eye of glory, hid
"Beneath this Veil, the flashing of whose lid

"Could, like a sun-stroke of the desert, wither

"Millions of such as yonder Chief brings hither? "Long have its lightnings slept-too long but now "All earth shall feel th' unveiling of this brow!

66

To-night—yes, sainted men! this very night,

"I bid you all to a fair festal rite,

"Where, having deep refresh'd each

weary

limb

}

"With viands, such as feast Heav'n's cherubim, "And kindled up your souls, now sunk and dim, "With that pure wine the Dark-ey'd Maids above "Keep, seal'd with precious musk, for those they love,'—

"The righteous shall be given to drink of pure wine, sealed; the seal whereof shall be musk.". Koran, chap. lxxxiii.

"I will myself uncurtain in your sight
"The wonders of this brow's incffable light;
"Then lead you forth, and with a wink disperse
"Yon myriads, howling through the universe!"

Eager they listen - while each accent darts
New life into their chill'd and hope-sick hearts;·
Such treacherous life as the cool draught supplies
To him upon the stake, who drinks and dies!
Wildly they point their lances to the light
Of the fast sinking sun, and shout "to-night!"-
"To-night," their Chief re-echoes, in a voice
Of fiend-like mockery that bids hell rejoice!
Deluded victims never hath this earth

Seen mourning half so mournful as their mirth!
Here, to the few, whose iron frames had stood
This racking waste of famine and of blood,
Faint, dying wretches clung, from whom the shout
Of triumph like a maniac's laugh broke out;
There, others, lighted by the smouldering fire,
Danc'd, like wan ghosts about a funeral pyre,
Among the dead and dying, strew'd around; -

While some pale wretch look'd on, and from his wound

Plucking the fiery dart by which he bled,
In ghastly transport wav'd it o'er his head!

pause

'Twas more than midnight now a fearful
Had follow'd the long shouts, the wild applause,
That lately from those Royal Gardens burst,
Where the Veil'd demon held his feast accurst,
When ZELICA-alas, poor ruin'd heart,

In every horror doom'd to bear its part! -
Was bidden to the banquet by a slave,

Who, while his quivering lip the summons gave,
Grew black, as though the shadows of the grave
Compass'd him round, and, ere he could repeat
His message through, fell lifeless at her feet!

Shuddering she went — a soul-felt pang of fear, that her own dark doom was near,

A presage,

Rous'd every feeling, and brought Reason back
Once more, to writhe her last upon the rack.

}

All round seem'd tranquil—ev'n the foe had ceas'd, As if aware of that demoniac feast,

His fiery bolts; and though the heavens look'd red, 'Twas but some distant conflagration's spread.

But hark!-she stops - she listens dreadful tone!

'Tis her Tormentor's laugh- and now, a groan

A long death-groan comes with it can this be
The place of mirth, the bower of revelry?

She enters - Holy ALLA, what a sight

Was there before her! By the glimmering light
Of the pale dawn, mix'd with the flare of brands
That round lay burning, dropp'd from lifeless hands,
She saw the board, in splendid mockery spread,
Rich censers breathing -- garlands overhead, —

The urns, the cups, from which they late had quaff'd,
All gold and gems, but what had been the draught?
Oh! who need ask, that saw those livid guests,

With their swoll'n heads sunk blackening on their breasts,

Or looking pale to heav'n with glassy glare,

As if they sought but saw no mercy there;

As if they felt, though poison rack'd them through,
Remorse the deadlier torment of the two!
While some, the bravest, hardiest in the train
Of their false Chief, who on the battle-plain
Would have met death with transport by his side,
Here mute and helpless gasp'd; - but as they died,
Look'd horrible vengeance with their eyes' last strain,
And clench'd the slackening hand at him in vain.

I

Dreadful it was to see the ghastly stare,
The stony look of horror and despair,
Which some of these expiring victims cast
Upon their souls' tormentor to the last; —

Upon that mocking Fiend, whose Veil, now rais'd,
Show'd them, as in death's agony they gaz'd,

Not the long promis'd light, the brow, whose beaming
Was to come forth, all conquering, all redeeming,
But features horribler than Hell e'er trac'd

On its own brood; no Demon of the Waste,

2

No church-yard Ghole, caught lingering in the light
Of the bless'd sun, e'er blasted human sight
With lineaments so foul, so fierce as those

Th' Impostor now, in grinning mockery, shows "There, ye wise Saints, behold your Light, your Star,"Ye would be dupes and victims, and ye are.

"Is it enough? or must I, while a thrill

"Lives in your sapient bosoms, cheat you still?

2

"The Afghauns believe each of the numerous solitudes and deserts of their country, to be inhabited by a lonely demon, whom they call the Ghoolee Beeabau, or Spirit of the Waste. They often illustrate the wildness of any sequestered tribe, by saying, they are wild as the Demon of the Waste." - Elphinstone's Caubul.