Thalaba the Destroyer - Part 27
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Part 27

And at the helm a Damsel stood A Damsel bright and bold of eye, Yet did a maiden modesty Adorn her fearless brow.

She seemed sorrowful, but sure More beautiful for sorrow.

To her the Dogs looked wistful up, And then their tongues were loosed, "Have we done well, O Mistress dear!

"And shall our sufferings end?"

The gentle Damsel made reply, "Poor Servants of the G.o.d I serve, "When all this witchery is destroyed "Your woes will end with mine.

"A hope, alas! how long unknown!

"This new adventurer gives: "Now G.o.d forbid that he, like you, "Should perish for his fears!

"Poor Servants of the G.o.d I serve "Wait ye the event in peace."

A deep and total slumber as she spake Seized them. Sleep on, poor sufferers! be at rest!

Ye wake no more to anguish. Ye have borne The Chosen, the Destroyer! soon his hand Shall strike the efficient blow, Soon shaking off your penal forms shall ye With songs of joy amid the Eden groves Hymn the Deliverer's praise!

Then did the Damsel say to Thalaba, "The morn is young, the Sun is fair "And pleasantly thro' pleasant banks "The quiet brook flows on....

"Wilt thou embark with me?

"Thou knowest not the water's way, "Think Stranger well! and night must come,...

"Wilt thou embark with me?

"Thro' fearful perils thou must pa.s.s,...

"Stranger, the oppressed ask thine aid!

"Thou wilt embark with me!"

She smiled in tears upon the youth,...

What heart were his who could gainsay That melancholy smile?

"Sail on, sail on," quoth Thalaba, "Sail on, in Allah's name!"

He sate him on the single seat, The little boat moved on.

Thro' pleasant banks the quiet brook Went winding pleasantly; By fragrant fir groves now it past, And now thro' alder-sh.o.r.es, Thro' green and fertile meadows now It silently ran by.

The flag-flower blossomed on its side, The willow tresses waved, The flowing current furrowed round The water-lilly's floating leaf, The fly of green and gauzy wing Fell sporting down its course.

And grateful to the voyager The freshness of the running stream, The murmur round the prow.

The little boat falls rapidly Adown the rapid brook.

But many a silent spring meantime, And many a rivulet Had swoln the growing brook, And when the southern Sun began To wind the downward way of heaven, It ran a river deep and wide Thro' banks that widened still.

Then once again the Damsel spake, "The stream is strong, the river broad, "Wilt thou go on with me?

"The day is fair but night must come....

"Wilt thou go on with me?

"Far far away the mourner's eye "Is watching; for our little boat....

"Thou wilt go on with me!"

"Sail on, sail on," quoth Thalaba, "Sail on, in Allah's name!"

The little boat falls rapidly Adown the river-stream.

A broader and a broader stream.

That rocked the little boat!

The Cormorant stands upon its shoals, His black and dripping wings Half opened to the wind.

The Sun goes down, the crescent Moon Is brightening in the firmament; And what is yonder roar That sinking now and swelling now, But roaring, roaring still, Still louder, louder, grows?

The little boat falls rapidly Adown the rapid tide, The Moon is bright above, And the wide Ocean opens on their way!

Then did the Damsel speak again "Wilt thou go on with me?

"The Moon is bright, the sea is calm "And I know well the ocean-paths;...

"Wilt thou go on with me?

"Deliverer! yes! thou dost not fear!

"Thou wilt go on with me!"

"Sail on, sail on!" quoth Thalaba "Sail on, in Allah's name!"

The Moon is bright, the sea is calm, The little boat rides rapidly Across the ocean waves; The line of moonlight on the deep Still follows as they voyage on; The winds are motionless; The gentle waters gently part In murmurs round the prow.

He looks above, he looks around, The boundless heaven, the boundless sea, The crescent moon, the little boat, Nought else above, below.

The Moon is sunk, a dusky grey Spreads o'er the Eastern sky, The Stars grow pale and paler; Oh beautiful! the G.o.dlike Sun Is rising o'er the sea!

Without an oar, without a sail The little boat rides rapidly;...

Is that a cloud that skirts the sea?

There is no cloud in heaven!

And nearer now, and darker now....

It is ... it is ... the Land!

For yonder are the rocks that rise Dark in the reddening morn, For loud around their hollow base The surges rage and roar.

The little boat rides rapidly, And now with shorter toss it heaves Upon the heavier swell; And now so near they see The shelves and shadows of the cliff, And the low-lurking rocks O'er whose black summits hidden-half The shivering billows burst.

And nearer now they feel the breaker's spray.

Then spake the Damsel, "yonder is our path "Beneath the cavern arch.

"Now is the ebb, and till the ocean-flow "We cannot over-ride the rocks.

"Go thou and on the sh.o.r.e "Perform thy last ablutions, and with prayer "Strengthen thy heart.... I too have need to pray."

She held the helm with steady hand Amid the stronger waves, Thro' surge and surf she drove, The adventurer leapt to land.

The Twelfth Book.

THE TWELFTH BOOK.

Then Thalaba drew off Abdaldar's ring, And cast it in the sea, and cried aloud, "Thou art my shield, my trust, my hope, O G.o.d!

"Behold and guard me now, "Thou who alone canst save.

"If from my childhood up, I have looked on "With exultation to my destiny, "If, in the hour of anguish, I have felt "The justice of the hand that chastened me, "If, of all selfish pa.s.sions purified, "I go to work thy will, and from the world "Root up the ill-doing race, "Lord! let not thou the weakness of my arm "Make vain the enterprize!"

The Sun was rising all magnificent, Ocean and Heaven rejoicing in his beams.

And now had Thalaba Performed his last ablutions, and he stood And gazed upon the little boat Riding the billows near, Where, like a sea-bird breasting the broad waves, It rose and fell upon the surge; Till from the glitterance of the sunny main He turned his aching eyes, And then upon the beach he laid him down And watched the rising tide.

He did not pray, he was not calm for prayer; His spirit troubled with tumultuous hope Toiled with futurity.

His brain, with busier workings, felt The roar and raving of the restless sea, The boundless waves that rose and rolled and rocked; The everlasting sound Opprest him, and the heaving infinite, He closed his lids for rest.

Meantime with fuller reach and stronger swell Wave after wave advanced; Each following billow lifted the last foam That trembled on the sand with rainbow hues; The living flower, that, rooted to the rock, Late from the thinner element Shrunk down within its purple stem to sleep, Now feels the water, and again Awakening blossoms out All its green anther-necks.

Was there a Spirit in the gale That fluttered o'er his cheek?

For it came on him like the gentle sun That plays and dallies o'er the night-closed flower, And woos it to unfold anew to joy; For it came on him as the dews of eve Descend with healing and with life Upon the summer mead; Or liker the first sound of seraph song And Angel hail, to him Whose latest sense had shuddered at the groan Of anguish, kneeling by his death bed-side.

He starts and gazes round to seek The certain presence. "Thalaba!" exclaimed The Voice of the Unseen;...

"Father of my Oneiza!" he replied, "And have thy years been numbered? art thou too "Among the Angels?" "Thalaba!"

A second and a dearer voice repeats, "Go in the favour of the Lord "My Thalaba go on!

"My husband. I have drest our bower of bliss.