So fought he back with fierce delay,
And kept both foes and fate at bay.

But whither now? their track is lost,
Their

prey escap❜d guide, torches gone By torrent-beds and labyrinths crost, The scatter'd crowd rush blindly on "Curse on those tardy lights that wind," They panting cry, "so far behind — "Oh for a bloodhound's precious scent, "To track the way the Gheber went!" Vain wish - confusedly along

They rush, more desperate as more wrong:
Till, wilder'd by the far-off lights,

Yet glittering up those gloomy heights,
Their footing, maz'd and lost, they miss,
And down the darkling precipice
Are dash'd into the deep abyss;—
Or midway hang, impal'd on rocks,
A banquet, yet alive, for flocks

Of ravening vultures,

while the dell

Re-echoes with each horrible yell.

Those sounds the last, to vengeance dear,

That e'er shall ring in HAFED's ear,

Now reach'd him, as aloft, alone,
Upon the steep way breathless thrown,
He lay beside his reeking blade,
Resign'd, as if life's task were o'er,
Its last blood-offering amply paid,

And IRAN's self could claim no more.
One only thought, one lingering beam
Now broke across his dizzy dream
Of pain and weariness -'twas she
His heart's pure planet, shining yet
Above the waste of memory,

When all life's other lights were set.
And never to his mind before

Her image such enchantment wore.

It seem'd as if each thought that stain'd,

Each fear that chill'd their loves was past, And not one cloud of earth remain'd

Between him and her glory cast;

As if to charms, before so bright,

New grace from other worlds was given,

And his soul saw her by the light

Now breaking o'er itself from heaven!

A voice spoke near him

-'twas the tone

Of a lov'd friend, the only one

Of all his warriors, left with life

From that short night's tremendous strife."And must we then, my Chief, die here? "Foes round us, and the Shrine so near!" These words have rous'd the last remains

Of life within him "what! not yet "Beyond the reach of Moslem chains!"—

The thought could make ev'n Death forget His icy bondage — with a bound

He springs, all bleeding, from the ground, his comrade's arm, now grown

And

grasps

Ev'n feebler, heavier than his own,

And up the painful pathway leads,

Death gaining on each step he treads.

Speed them, thou God, who heard'st their vow!

They mount

they bleed oh save them now

-

The crags are red they've clamber'd o'er,

The rock-weed's dripping with their gore

Thy blade too, HAFED, false at length,

Now breaks beneath thy tottering strength

Haste, haste the voices of the Foe

Come near and nearer from below

One effort more thank Heav'n! 'tis past,

They've gain'd the topmost steep at last.

And now they touch the temple's walls,

Now HAFED sees the Fire divine

When, lo! his weak, worn comrade falls

Dead on the threshold of the Shrine.

"Alas, brave soul, too quickly fled !
"And must I leave thee withering here,

"The sport of every ruffian's tread,

"The mark for every coward's spear?
"No, by yon altar's sacred beams !"
He cries, and, with a strength that seems
Not of this world, uplifts the frame

Of the fall'n Chief, and tow'rds the flame.
Bears him along; with death-damp hand
The corpse upon the pyre he lays,
Then lights the consecrated brand,

And fires the pile, whose sudden blaze
Like lightning bursts o'er OMAN's Sea.
"Now, Freedom's God! I come to Thee,"
The youth exclaims, and with a smile
Of triumph vaulting on the pile,

In that last effort, ere the fires

Have harm'd one glorious limb, expires!

What shriek was that on OMAN's tide?

It came from yonder drifting bark, That just has caught upon her side

The death-light — and again is dark.

It is the boat -ah, why delay'd? –
That bears the wretched Moslem maid;
Confided to the watchful care

Of a small veteran band, with whom
Their generous Chieftain would not share
The secret of his final doom;

But hop'd when HINDA, safe and free,

Was render'd to her father's

eyes,

Their pardon, full and prompt, would be

The ransom of so dear a prize.
Unconscious, thus, of HAFED's fate,

And proud to guard their beauteous freight,
Scarce had they clear'd the surfy waves
That foam around those frightful caves,
When the curst war-whoops, known so well,
Came echoing from the distant dell-
Sudden each oar, upheld and still,

Hung dripping o'er the vessel's side,

And, driving at the current's will,

They rock'd along the whispering tide,