_THALABA THE DESTROYER._

_THE FOURTH BOOK._

Whose is yon dawning form, That in the darkness meets The delegated youth?

Dim as the shadow of a fire at noon, Or pale reflection on the evening brook Of Glow-worm on the bank Kindled to guide her winged paramour.

A moment, and the brightening image shaped His Mother's form and features. "Go," she cried, "To Babylon, and from the Angels learn "What talisman thy task requires."

The Spirit hung towards him when she ceased, As tho' with actual lips she would have given A mother's kiss ... his arms outstretched, His body bending on, His lips unclosed and trembling into speech He prest to meet the blessing,... but the wind Played on his cheek: he looked, and he beheld The darkness close. "Again! again!" he cried, "Let me again behold thee!" from the darkness His Mother's voice went forth; "Thou shall behold me in the hour of death."

Day dawns, the twilight gleam dilates, The Sun comes forth and like a G.o.d Rides thro' rejoicing heaven.

Old Moath and his daughter from their tent Beheld the adventurous youth, Dark moving o'er the sands, A lessening image, trembling thro' their tears.

Visions of high emprize Beguiled his lonely road; And if sometimes to Moath's tent The involuntary mind recurred, Fancy, impatient of all painful thoughts Pictured the bliss should welcome his return.

In dreams like these he went, And still of every dream Oneiza formed a part, And Hope and Memory made a mingled joy.

In the eve he arrived at a Well, The Acacia bent over its side, Under whose long light-hanging boughs He chose his night's abode.

There, due ablutions made and prayers performed, The youth his mantle spread, And silently produced His solitary meal.

The silence and the solitude recalled Dear recollections, and with folded arms, Thinking of other days, he sate, till thought Had left him, and the Acacia's moving shade Upon the sunny sand Had caught his idle eye, And his awakened ear Heard the grey Lizard's chirp, The only sound of life.

As thus in vacant quietness he sate, A Traveller on a Camel reached the Well, And courteous greeting gave.

The mutual salutation past, He by the cistern too his garment spread, And friendly converse cheered the social meal.

The Stranger was an antient man, Yet one whose green old age Bore the fair characters of temperate youth.

So much of manhood's strength his limbs retained, It seemed he needed not the staff he bore.

His beard was long, and grey, and crisp; Lively his eyes and quick, And reaching over them The large broad eye-brow curled....

His speech was copious, and his winning words Enriched with knowledge, that the attentive youth Sate listening with a thirsty joy.

So in the course of talk The adventurer youth enquired Whither his course was bent; The Old Man answered, "to Bagdad I go."

At that so welcome sound a flash of joy Kindled the eye of Thalaba; "And I too," he replied, "Am journeying thitherward, "Let me become companion of thy way!"

Courteous the Old Man smiled, And willing in a.s.sent....

OLD MAN.

Son, thou art young for travel.

THALABA.

Until now I never past the desert boundary.

OLD MAN.

It is a n.o.ble city that we seek.

Thou wilt behold magnificent palaces, And lofty obelisks, and high-domed Mosques, And rich Bazars, whither from all the world Industrious merchants meet, and market there The World's collected wealth.

THALABA.

Stands not Bagdad Near to the site of ancient Babylon And Nimrod's impious temple?

OLD MAN.

From the walls 'Tis but a long day's distance.

THALABA.

And the ruins?

OLD MAN.

A mighty ma.s.s remains; enough to tell us How great our [70]fathers were, how little we.

Men are not what they were; their crimes and follies Have dwarfed them down from the old hero race To such poor things as we!

THALABA.

At Babylon I have heard the Angels expiate their guilt, Haruth and Maruth.

OLD MAN.

'Tis a history Handed from ages down; the nurses make it A tale to please their children, And as their garrulous ignorance relates We learn it and believe ... but all things feel The power of Time and Change! thistles and gra.s.s Usurp the desolate palace, and the weeds Of Falshood root in the aged pile of Truth.

How have you heard the tale?

THALABA.

Thus ... on a time The Angels at the wickedness of man Expressed indignant wonder: that in vain Tokens and signs were given, and Prophets sent,...

Strange obstinacy this! a stubborness Of sin, they said, that should for ever bar The gates of mercy on them. Allah heard Their unforgiving pride, and bade that two Of these untempted Spirits should descend, Judges on earth. Haruth and Maruth went, The chosen Sentencers; they fairly heard The appeals of men to their tribunal brought, And rightfully decided. At the length A Woman came before them ... beautiful Zohara was, as yonder Evening star, In the mild l.u.s.tre[71] of whose lovely light Even now her beauty shines. They gazed on her With fleshly eyes, they tempted her to sin.

The wily woman listened, and required A previous price, the knowledge of the name[72]

Of G.o.d. She learnt the wonder-working name And gave it utterance, and its virtue bore her Up to the glorious Presence, and she told Before the aweful Judgement-Seat, her tale.

OLD MAN.

I know the rest, the accused Spirits were called: Unable of defence, and penitent, They owned their crime and heard the doom deserved.

Then they besought the Lord that not for ever His wrath might be upon them; and implored That penal ages might at length restore them Clean from offence, since then by Babylon In the cavern of their punishment they dwell, Runs the conclusion so?

THALABA.

So I am taught.

OLD MAN.

The common tale! and likely thou hast heard How that the bold and bad, with impious rites Intrude upon their penitence, and force, Albeit from loathing and reluctant lips, The sorcery-secret?

THALABA.

Is it not the truth?

OLD MAN.