Classic Poem

1.

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 God!
Behold and guard me now,
Thou who alone canst save.
If, from my childhood up, I have look'd on
With exultation to my destiny;
If, in the hour of anguish, I have own'd
The justice of the hand that chasten'd me;
If, of all selfish passions 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 enterprise! "

2.

The Sun was rising all magnificent,
Ocean and Heaven rejoicing in his beams.
And now had Thalaba
Perform'd 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 turn'd his aching eyes;
And then upon the beach he laid him down,
And watch'd the rising tide.
He did not pray; he was not calm for prayer;
His spirit, troubled with tumultuous hope,
Toil'd with futurity;
His brain, with busier workings, felt
The roar and raving of the restless sea,
The boundless waves that rose, and roll'd, and rock'd:
The everlasting sound
Oppress'd him, and the heaving infinite:
He closed his lids for rest.

3.

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.
4.

Was there a Spirit in the gale
That fluttered o'er his cheek?
For it came on him like the new-risen sun,
Which plays and dallies o'er the night-closed flower,
And wooes 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 like the first sound of seraph song
And Angel greeting, to the soul
Whose latest sense had shuddered at the groan
Of anguish, kneeling by a death-bed side.

5.

He starts, and gazes round to seek
The certain presence. " Thalaba! " exclaim'd
The Voice of the Unseen;
" Father of my Oneiza! " he replied,
" And have thy years been number'd? art thou, too,
Among the Angels? " — " Thalaba! "
A second and a dearer voice repeats,
" Go in the favor of the Lord,
My Thalaba, go on!
My husband, I have dress'd our bower of
Go, and perform the work;
Let me not longer suffer hope in Heaven. "

6.

He turn'd an eager glance toward the sea.
" Come! " quoth the Damsel, and she drove
Her little boat to land.
Impatient through the rising wave,
He rush'd to meet its way;
His eye was bright, his cheek was flush'd with
" Hast thou had comfort in thy prayers? " ask'd.
" Yea, " Thalaba replied,
" A heavenly visitation. " " God be praised. "
She answer'd; " then I do not hope in vain,
And her voice trembled, and her lip
Quiver'd, and tears ran down.
7.

" Stranger, " said she, " in years long past.
Was one who vow'd himself
The Champion of the Lord, like thee,
Against the race of Hell.
Young was he, as thyself,
Gentle, and yet so brave!
A lion-hearted man.
Shame on me, Stranger! in the arms of love
I held him from his calling, till the hour,
Was past; and then the Angel who should else
Have crown'd him with his glory-wreath
Smote him in anger. — Years and years are gone,
And in his place of penance he awaits
Thee, the Deliverer: surely thou art he
It was my righteous punishment,
In the same youth unchanged,
And love unchangeable,
Sorrow forever fresh,
And bitter penitence,
That gives no respite night nor day from grief
To abide the written hour, when I should waft
The Doom'd Destroyer and Deliverer here
Remember thou, that thy success affects
No single fate, no ordinary woes.
8.

As thus she spake, the entrance of the cave
Darken'd the boat below.
Around them, from their nests,
The screaming sea-birds fled,
Wondering at that strange shape,
Yet unalarm'd at sight of living man
Unknowing of his sway and power misused
The clamors of their young
Echoed in shriller cries,
Which rung in wild discordance round the rest
And farther as they now advanced;
The dim reflection of the darken'd day
Grew fainter, and the dash
Of the out-breakers deaden'd; farther yet
And yet more faint the gleam;
And there the waters, at their utmost boul
Silently rippled on the rising rock.
They landed and advanced, and deeper in,
Two adamantine doors
Closed up the cavern pass.
9.

Reclining on the rock beside,
Sat a gray-headed man,
Watching an hour-glass by.
To him the Damsel spake —
" Is it the hour appointed? " The Old Man
Nor answer'd her awhile,
Nor lifted he his downward eye;
For now the glass ran low,
And, like the days of age,
With speed perceivable,
The latter sands descend;
And now the last are gone.
Then he look'd up, and raised his hand, and smote
The adamantine gates.

10.

The gates of adamant.
Unfolding at the stroke,
Open'd, and gave the entrance. Then she turn'd
To Thalaba, and said,
" Go, in the name of God!
I cannot enter, — I must wait the end
In hope and agony.
God and Mahommed prosper thee,
For thy sake and for ours! "

11.

He tarried not, — he past
The threshold, over which was no return.
All earthly thoughts, all human hopes
And passions now put off,
He cast no backward glance
Toward the gleam of day.
There was a light within,
A yellow light, as when the autumnal Sun,
Through travelling rain and mist,
Shines on the evening hills:
Whether from central fires effused,
Or that the sunbeams, day by day,
From earliest generations, there absorb'd,
Were gathering for the wrath-flame. Shade was none
In those portentous vaults;
Crag overhanging, nor columnal rock
Cast its dark outline there;
For with the hot and heavy atmosphere
The light incorporate, permeating all,
Spread over all its equal yellowness.
There was no motion in the lifeless air;
He felt no stirring as he past
Adown the long descent;
He heard not his own footsteps on the rock,
That through the thick stagnation sent no sound.
How sweet it were, he thought,
To feel the flowing wind!
With what a thirst of joy
He should breathe in the open gales of heaven!

12.

Downward, and downward still, and still the way,
The lengthening way is safe.
Is there no secret wile,
No lurking enemy?
His watchful eye is on the wall of rock, —
And warily he marks the roof,
And warily surveys
The path that lies before.
Downward, and downward still, and still the way,
The long, long way is safe;
Rock only, the same light,
The same dead atmosphere,
And solitude and silence like the grave.

13.

At length the long descent
Ends on a precipice;
No feeble ray enter'd its dreadful gulf;
For in the pit profound,
Black Darkness, utter Night,
Repell'd the hostile gleam,
And o'er the surface the light atmosphere
Floated, and mingled not.
Above the depth, four over-awning wings,
Unplumed, and huge, and strong,
Bore up a little car;
Four living pinions, headless, bodiless,
Sprung from one stem that branched below
In four down-arching limbs,
And clinch'd the car-rings endlong and athwart
With claws of griffin grasp.

14.

But not on these, the depth so terrible,
The wondrous wings, fix'd Thalaba his eye
For there, upon the brink,
With fiery fetters fasten'd to the rock,
A man, a living man, tormented lay,
The young Othatha: in the arms of love
He who had linger'd out the auspicious hour,
Forgetful of his call.
In shuddering pity, Thalaba exclaimed,
" Servant of God, can I not succor thee? "
He groan'd, and answered, " Son of Man,
I sinn'd, and am tormented; I endure
In patience and in hope.
The hour that shall destroy the Race of Hell,
That hour shall set me free. "

15.

" Is it not come? " quoth Thalaba.
" Yea! by this omen! " — and with fearless hand
He grasp'd the burning fetters, — " in the name
Of God! " — and from the rock
Rooted the rivets, and adown the gulf
Dropp'd them. The rush of flames roar'd up,
For they had kindled in their fall
The deadly vapors of the pit profound;
And Thalaba bent on and look'd below
But vainly he explored
The deep abyss of flame,
That sunk beyond the plunge of mortal eye,
Now all ablaze, as if infernal fires
Illumed the world beneath.
Soon was the poison-fuel spent;
The flame grew pale and dim;
And dimmer now it fades, and now is quench'd;
And all again is dark,
Save where the yellow air
Enters a little in, and mingles slow.

16.

Meantime, the freed Othatha clasp'd his knees,
And cried, " Deliverer! " Struggling then
With joyful hope, " And where is she, " he cried,
" Whose promised coming for so many a year — "
" Go! " answer'd Thalaba,
" She waits thee at the gates. "
" And in thy triumph, " he replied,
There thou wilt join us? " — The Deliverer's eye
Glanced on the abyss; way else was none —
The depth was unascendable.
" A wait not me, " he cried;
" My path hath been appointed! go — embark!
Return to life, — live happy! "

OTHATHA .

But thy name? —
That through the nations we may blazon it, —
That we may bless thee!

THALABA .

Bless the Merciful!

17.

Then Thalaba pronounced the name of God,
And leap'd into the car.
Down, down it sunk, — down, down, —
He neither breathes nor sees;
His eyes are closed for giddiness,
His breath is sinking with the fall.
The air that yields beneath the car
Inflates the wings above.
Down — down — a measureless depth! — down — down,
Was then the Simorg with the Powers of ill
Associate to destroy?
And was that lovely Mariner
A fiend as false as fair?
For still the car sinks down;
But ever the uprushing wind
Inflates the wings above,
And still the struggling wings
Repel the rushing wind.
Down — down — and now it strikes.

18.

He stands and totters giddily;
All objects round awhile
Float dizzy on his sight;
Collected soon, he gazes for the way.
There was a distant light that led his search;
The torch a broader blaze,
The unpruned taper flares a longer flame,
But this was strong, as is the noontide sun,
So, in the glory of its rays intense,
It quiver'd with green glow.
Beyond was all unseen;
No eye could penetrate
That unendurable excess of light.

19.

It veil'd no friendly form, thought Thalaba,
And wisely did he deem,
For at the threshold of the rocky door,
Hugest and fiercest of his kind accurs'd,
Fit warden of the sorcery-gate,
A rebel Afreet lay;
He scented the approach of human food,
And hungry hope kindled his eye of fire.
Raising his hand to screen the dazzled sense
Onward held Thalaba,
And lifted still at times a rapid glance;
Till the due distance gain'd,
With head abased, he laid
An arrow in its rest.
With steady effort and knit forehead then,
Full on the painful light
He fix'd his aching eye, and loosed the bow.

20.

A hideous yell ensued;
And sure no human voice had scope or power,
For that prodigious shriek
Whose pealing echoes thundered up the rock
Dim grew the dying light;
But Thalaba leap'd onward to the doors,
Now visible beyond,
And while the Afreet warden of the way
Was writhing with his death-pangs, over him
Sprung and smote the stony doors,
And bade them, in the name of God, give way.

21.

The dying Fiend beneath him, at that name,
Toss'd in worse agony,
And the rocks shudder'd, and the rocky doors,
Rent at the voice asunder. Lo! within —
The Teraph and the Fire,
And Khawla, and, in mail complete,
Mohareb for the strife.
But Thalaba, with numbing force,
Smites his raised arm, and rushes by;
For now he sees the fire, amid whose flames,
On the white ashes of Hodeirah, lies
Hodeirah's holy Sword.

22.

He rushes to the Fire:
Then Khawla met the youth,
And leap'd upon him, and with clinging arm.
Clasps him, and calls Mohareb now to aim
The effectual vengeance. O fool! fool! he are,
His Father's Sword, and who shall bar his way
Who stand against the fury of that arm,
That spurns her to the ground? —
She rises half, she twists around his knees,
A moment — and he vainly strives
To shake her from her hold;
Impatient then he seized her leathery neel.
With throttling grasp, and as she loosed her life
Thrust her aside, and unimpeded now
Springs forward to the Sword.

23.

The co-existent Flame
Knew the Destroyer; it encircled him,
Roll'd up his robe, and gather'd round his head:
Condensing to intenser splendor there,
His crown of Glory and his Light of Life,
Hover'd the irradiate wreath.

24.

The instant Thalaba had laid his hand
Upon his Father's Sword,
The Living Image in the inner cave
Smote the Round Altar. The Domdaniel rock'd
Through all its thundering vaults;
Over the surface of the reeling Earth,
The alarum shock was felt;
The Sorcerer brood, all, all, where'er dispersed,
Perforce obey'd the summons; all, — they came
Compell'd by Hell and Heaven;
By Hell compell'd to keep
Their baptism-covenant,
And with the union of their strength
Oppose the common danger; forced by Heaven
To share the common doom.

25.

Vain are all spells! the Destroyer
Treads the Domdaniel floor.
They crowd with human arms and human force
To crush the single foe.
Vain is all human force!
He wields his Father's Sword,
The vengeance of awaken'd Deity.
But chief on Thalaba Mohareb press'd
The Witch, in her oracular speech,
Announced one fatal blow for both;
And, desperate of self safety, yet he hoped
To serve the cause of Eblis, and uphold
His empire, true in death.

26.

Who shall withstand the Destroyer?
Scatter'd before the sword of Thalaba
The Sorcerer throng recede,
And leave him space for combat. Wretched man, —
What shall the helmet or the shield avail
Against Almighty anger? — Wretched man,
Too late Mohareb finds that he hath chosen
The evil part! — He rears his shield
To meet the Arabian's sword;
Under the edge of that fire-hardened steel,
The shield falls sever'd; his cold arm
Rings with the jarring blow: —
He lifts his cimeter;
A second stroke, and lo! the broken hilt
Hangs from his palsied hand:
And now he bleeds, and now he flies,
And fain would hide himself amid the troop;
But they feel the sword of Hodeirah;
But they also fly from the ruin,
And hasten to the inner cave,
And fall all fearfully
Around the Giant Idol's feet,
Seeking protection from the Power they served.

27.

It was a Living Image, by the art
Of magic hands, of flesh and bones composed,
And human blood, through veins and arteries
That flow'd with vital action. In the shape
Of Eblis it was made;
Its stature such, and such its strength,
As when among the sons of God
Preiminent he raised his radiant head,
Prince of the Morning. On his brow
A coronet of meteor flames,
Flowing in points of light.
Self-poised in air before him
Hung the Round Altar, rolling like the World
On its diurnal axis, like the World
Checker'd with sea and shore,
The work of Demon art.
For where the sceptre in the Idol's hand
Touch'd the Round Altar, in its answering realm,
Earth felt the stroke, and Ocean rose in storms,
And shatter'd Cities, shaken from their seat,
Crush'd all their habitants.
His other arm was raised, and its spread palm
Sustain'd the ocean-weight,
Whose naked waters arch'd the sanctuary,
Sole prop and pillar he.

28.

Fallen on the ground, around his feet,
The Sorcerers lay. Mohareb's quivering arms
Clung to the Idol's knees;
The Idol's face was pale;
And calm in terror he beheld
The approach of the Destroyer.

29.

Sure of his stroke, and therefore in pursuit
Following, nor blind, nor hasty, on his foe
Moved the Destroyer. Okba met his way,
Of all that brotherhood
He only fearless, miserable man,
The one that had no hope.
" On me, on me, " the childless Sorcerer cried,
Let fall the weapon! I am he who stole
Upon the midnight of thy Father's tent;
This is the hand that pierced Hodeirah's heart,
That felt thy brethren's and thy sisters' blood
Gush round the dagger-hilt. Let fall on me
The fated sword! the vengeance-hour is come
Destroyer, do thy work! "

30.

Nor wile, nor weapon, had the desperate wretch,
He spread his bosom to the stroke.
" Old Man, I strike thee not! " said Thalaba;
" The evil thou hast done to me and mine
Brought its own bitter punishment.
For thy dear Daughter's sake I pardon thee,
As I do hope Heaven's pardon. — For her sake
Repent while time is yet! — Thou hast my prayers
To aid thee; thou poor sinner, cast thyself
Upon the goodness of offended God!
I speak in Laila's name; and what if now
Thou canst not think to join in Paradise
Her spotless Spirit, — hath not Allah made
Al-Araf, in his wisdom? where the sight
Of Heaven may kindle in the penitent
The strong and purifying fire of hope,
Till, at the Day of Judgment, he shall see
The Mercy-Gates unfold. "

31.

The astonish'd man stood gazing as he spake;
At length his heart was soften'd, and the tears
Gush'd, and he sobb'd aloud.
Then suddenly was heard
The all-beholding Prophet's voice divine —
" Thou hast done well, my Servant!
Ask and receive thy reward! "

32.

A deep and awful joy
Seem'd to dilate the heart of Thalaba;
With arms in reverence cross'd upon his breast,
Upseeking eyes suffused with tears devout,
He answered to the Voice — " Prophet of God,
Holy and good, and bountiful!
One only earthly wish have I, to work
Thy will; and thy protection grants me that.
Look on this Sorcerer! Heavy are his crimes;
But infinite is mercy! If thy servant
Have now found favor in the sight of God,
Let him be touch'd with penitence, and save
His soul from utter death.

33.

" The groans of penitence, " replied the Voice,
" Never arise unheard!
But, for thyself, prefer the prayer;
The treasure-house of Heaven
Is open to thy will. "

34.

" Prophet of God! " then answered Thalaba,
" I am alone on earth;
Thou knowest the secret wishes of my heart!
Do with me as thou wilt! Thy will is best. "

35.

There issued forth no Voice to answer him;
But lo! Hodeirah's Spirit comes to see
His vengeance, and beside him, a pure form
Of roseate light, his Angel mother hung.
" My Child, my dear, my glorious, blessed Child,
My promise is perform'd — fulfil thy work' "

36.

Thalaba knew that his death-hour was come
And on he leap'd, and springing up,
Into the Idol's heart
Hilt-deep he plunged the Sword.
The Ocean-vault fell in, and all were crush'd,
In the same moment, at the gate
Of Paradise, Oneiza's Houri form
Welcomed her Husband to eternal bliss.