"Now, Spirits of the Brave, who roam "Enfranchis'd through yon starry dome, 66 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, reclimb'd the steep And gain'd 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 through the chasm-oh! who that then With their swords grasp'd, their eyes of flame 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, Life, swords, and vengeance still are left. "We'll make yon valley's reeking caves "Live in the awe-struck minds of men, ""Till tyrants shudder, when their slaves "Tell of the Ghebers' bloody glen. "Follow, brave hearts! this pile remains "Our refuge still from life and chains; "But his the best, the holiest bed, "Who sinks entomb'd in Moslem dead!" Down the precipitous rocks they sprung, While vigour, more than human, strung Each arm and heart. Th' exulting foe Wound slow, as through GOLCONDA's vale1 1 V. Hoole upon the Story of Sinbad. The mighty serpent, in his ire, Glides on with glittering, deadly trail. No torch the Ghebers need so well They know each mystery of the dell, So oft have, in their wanderings, Cross'd the wild race that round them dwell, The very tigers from their delves Look out, and let them pass, as things Untam'd and fearless like themselves! There was a deep ravine, that lay The many fall'n before the few. The torrents from that morning's sky Had fill'd the narrow chasm breast-high, And, on each side, aloft and wild, Huge cliffs and toppling crags were pil❜d, Here, at this pass, the scanty band. Of IRAN's last avengers stand Here wait, in silence like the dead, And listen for the Moslem's tread Above them flaps his wing unheard! They come that plunge into the water Had point or prowess, prove them now Woe to the file that foremost wades! They come a falchion greets each brow, And, as they tumble, trunk on trunk, Beneath the gory waters sunk, Still o'er their drowning bodies press So fierce their toil, hath power to stir, The sword hangs, clogg'd with massacre. Never was horde of tyrants met With bloodier welcome never yet -- To patriot vengeance hath the sword T All up the dreary, long ravine, By the red, murky glimmer seen Of half-quench'd brands, that o'er the flood From the toss'd brands that round them fly, "Twixt flood and flame in shrieks expire; And some who, grasp'd by those that die, Sink woundless with them, smother'd o'er In their dead brethren's gushing gore! But vainly hundreds, thousands bleed, To this terrific spot they pour Till, bridg'd with Moslem bodies o'er, And o'er the dying and the dead, |