Farewell, sweet spirits! not in vain ye die, Ha, my young bride !-'tis well-take thou thy seat; Here, drink-and should thy lover's conquering arms "For me I too must die-but not like these So shall they build me altars in their zeal, Where knaves shall minister, and fools shall kneel; The sail he spreads for Heaven with blasts from hell! * "Il donna du poison dans le vin à tous ses gens, et se jeta luimême ensuite dans une cuve pleine de drogues brûlantes et consumantes, afin qu'il ne restât rien de tous les membres de son corps, et que ceux qui restoient de sa secte pussent croire qu'il étoit monté au ciel, ce qui ne manqua pas d'arriver."D'Herbelot. D No trace of me shall greet them, when they come, In one bold plunge commences Deity!" He sprung and sunk, as the last words were said- Of those wide walls the only living thing; More like some bloodless ghost-such as, they tell, But morn is up, and a fresh warfare stirs The burning Azim-oh! could he but see Could match that gripe of vengeance, or keep pace Loud rings the ponderous ram against the walls; A minute's pause suspends all hearts and eyes- "They have all a great reverence for burial-grounds, which they sometimes call by the poetical name of Cities of the Silent, and which they people with the ghosts of the departed, who sit each at the head of his own grave, invisible to mortal eyes."-Elphinstone. 1 But the cool Caliph, fearful of some wile In this blank stillness, checks the troops awhile. The well-known Silver Veil!-"'Tis He, 'tis He, "I meant not, Azim," soothingly she said, As on his trembling arm she leaned her head, And, looking in his face, saw anguish there Beyond all wounds the quivering flesh can bear— "I meant not thou shouldst have the pain of this :Though death, with thee thus tasted, is a bliss Thou wouldst not rob me of, didst thou but know How oft I've prayed to God I might die so! But the Fiend's venom was too scant and slow ;To linger on were maddening-and I thought If once that Veil-nay, look not on it-caught The eyes of your fierce soldiery, I should be Struck by a thousand death-darts instantly. But this is sweeter-oh! believe me, yesI would not change this sad but dear caress, This death within thy arms I would not give, For the most smiling life the happiest live! All that stood dark and drear before the eye Of my strayed soul is passing swiftly by; A light comes o'er me from those looks of love, Like the first dawn of mercy from above; And if thy lips but tell me I'm forgiven, Angels will echo the blest words in Heaven! But live, my Azim ;-oh! to call thee mine Thus once again! my Azim-dream divine! Live, if thou ever lov'dst me, if to meet Thy Zelica hereafter would be sweet, Oh, live to pray for her-to bend the knee Morning and night before that Deity, To whom pure lips and hearts without a stain, As thine are, Azim, never breathed in vain, And pray that He may pardon her,—may take Compassion on her soul for thy dear sake, And, nought remembering but her love to thee, Make her all thine, all His, eternally! ! Go to those happy fields where first we twined Our youthful hearts together-every wind That meets thee there, fresh from the well-known flowers, Will bring the sweetness of those innocent hours Back to thy soul, and thou mayst feel again For thy poor Zelica as thou didst then. So shall thy orisons, like dew that flies In angel smiles, and told him she was blest! For this the old man breathed his thanks, and died.- The story of the Veiled Prophet of Khorassan being ended, they were now doomed to hear Fadladeen's criticisms upon it. A series of disappointments and accidents had occurred to this learned Chamberlain during the journey. In the first place, those couriers stationed, as in the reign of Shah Jehan, between Delhi and the Western coast of India, to secure a constant supply of mangoes for the Royal Table, had, by some cruel irregularity, failed in their duty; and to eat any mangoes but those of Mazagong was, of course, impossible. In the next place, the elephant, laden with his fine antique porcelain, had, in an unusual fit of liveliness, shattered the whole set to pieces:-an irreparable loss, as many of the vessels were so exquisitely old as to have been used under the Emperors Yan and Chun, who reigned many ages before the dynasty of Tang. His Koran, too, supposed to be the identical copy between the leaves of which Mahomet's favourite pigeon used to nestle, had been mislaid by his Koran-bearer three whole days; not without much spiritual alarm to Fadladeen, who, though professing to hold, with other loyal and orthodox Mussulmans, that salvation could only be found in the Koran, was strongly suspected of believing in his heart that it could only be found in his own particular copy of it. When to all these grievances is added the obstinacy of the cooks in putting the pepper of Canara into his dishes instead of the cinnamon of Serendib, we may easily suppose that he came to the task of criticism with, at least, a sufficient degree of irritability for the purpose. "In order," said he, importantly swinging about his chaplet of pearls, "to convey with clearness my opinion of the story this young man has related, it is necessary to take a review of all the stories that have ever- "-"My good Fadladeen!" exclaimed the Princess, interrupting him, "we really do not deserve that you should give yourself so much trouble. Your opinion of the poem we have just heard will, I have no doubt, be abundantly edifying, without any further waste of your valuable erudition."-"If that be all," replied the critic,-evidently mortified at not being allowed to show how much he knew about everything but the subject immediately before him-"if that be all that is required, the matter is easily despatched." He then proceeded to analyse the poem, in that strain (so well known to the unfortunate bards of Delhi) whose censures were an infliction from which few recovered, and whose very praises were like the honey extracted from the bitter flowers of the aloe. The chief personages of the story were, if he rightly understood them, an ill-favoured gentleman, with a veil over his face; a young lady, whose reason went and came, according as it suited the poet's convenience to be sensible or otherwise;—and a youth in one of those hideous Bucharian bonnets, who took the aforesaid gentleman in a veil for a Divinity. "From such materials," said he, "what can be expected ?—after rivalling each other in long speeches and absurdities, through some thousands of lines as indigestible as the filberts of Berdaa, our friend in the veil jumps into a tub of aquafortis; the young lady dies in a set speech, whose only recommendation is that it is her last; and the lover lives on to a good old age, for the laudable purpose of seeing her ghost, which he at last happily accomplishes, and expires. This, you will allow, is a fair summary of the story; and if Nasser, the Arabian merchant, told no better, our Holy Prophet (to whom be all honour and glory!) had no need to be jealous of his abilities for story-telling." With respect to the style, it was worthy of the matter;-it had not even those politic contrivances of structure which make up for the commonness of the thoughts by the peculiarity of the manner, nor that stately poetical phraseology by which sentiments mean in * "La lecture de ces Fables plaisoit si fort aux Arabes que quand Mahomet les entretenoit de l'Histoire de l'Ancien Testament ils les méprisoient, lui disant que celles que Nasser leur racontoient étoient beaucoup plus belles. Cette préférence attira à Nasser la malédiction de Mahomet et de tous ses disciples."-D'Herbelot. |