Thalaba the Destroyer
______
Book. I.
______
How beautiful is night!
A dewy freshness fills the silent
air.
No mist obscures, no little cloud
Breaks the whole serene of heaven,
In full-orbd glory the majestic Moon
Rolls thro its dark-blue depths.
Beneath her steady ray
The Desert spreads around
Sky-girded like the circle of the
seas.
How beautiful is night!
Who at this untimely hour
Wanders oer the desert sands?
No station is in view,
No palm-grove islanded amid the
waste.
The Mother & her Child,
The Widow & the Orphan at this
hour
Wander oer the desert sands.
Alas, the setting Sun
Saw Zeinab in her bliss
Hodeirahs wife belovd.
Night heard Hodeirahs groan of death.
Alas, the wife belovd,
The fruitful mother late,
Whom when the daughters of Arabia
nam’d
They wishd their lot like hers,
She wanders oer the desert sands
A wretched widow now, –
The fruitful mother of so fair a race
With one alone preservd
She wanders oer the wilderness.
No tear relievd the burthen of her
soul
Her swelling heart; – stunnd with the
heavy blow,
The overpowering ill, she felt like
one
Half-wakend from a midnight dream of
blood.
But sometimes when her boy,
Wetting her hand with tears,
Attempted to console,
She gave a feeble groan.
At length collecting Zeinab turnd her
eyes
To Heaven, exclaiming “praised be the
Lord,
“He gave – he takes away, –
“The Lord our God is good!”
“Good, is he?” cried the boy,
“Why are my brethren & my sisters
slain?
“Why is my father dead?
“Did ever we neglect our prayers,
“Or ever lift a hand unclean to
Heaven?
“Did ever stranger from our tent
“Unwelcom’d, turn away?
“Mother! he is not good!”
Then Zeinab beat her breast in agony
“O God! forgive my child
“He knows not what he says!
Thou knowst I did not teach him thoughts
like these,
“O Prophet pardon him!”
She had not wept till that relieving
prayer,
The fountains of her eyes were opened
then
And tears relievd her heart.
She raisd her swimming eyes to Heaven
“Allah thy will be done!
“Beneath the dispensation of thy
wrath
“I groan – but murmur not.
“In the tremendous day
“Thou wilt remember my resigned soul
“And I shall understand how
profitable
“It is to suffer now!”
Young Thalaba in silence heard
reproof,
His brow in manly frowns was knit,
With manly thoughts his heart was
full.
“Tell me who slew my father?” he
exclaimd.
Zeinab replied & said,
“I knew not that there livd thy fathers
foe!
“The blessings of the poor for him
“Went daily up to Heaven, –
“In distant lands the Traveller told his
praise.
“I did not think there lived
“Hodeirahs enemy!”
“Who then shall take revenge?”
Young Thalaba exclaimd.
“But I will hunt him thro the earth –
“Already I can bend my fathers bow,
“Soon will my arm have strength
“To dip the arrow-feathers in his
heart.”
Zeinab replied, “O Thalaba my child.
“Thou lookest on to distant days,
“And we are in the desert, far from
men!”
Not that
till that moment her afflicted heart
Had leisure for the thought.
She cast her eyes around, –
Alas! no tents were seen
Beside the bending sands,
No palm-tree rose to spot the
wilderness.
The dark blue sky closd round
And nested like a dome
Upon the circling waste.
She cast her eyes around –
Famine & Thirst were there –
Then the Mother bowd her head
And wept upon her child.
Sudden a cry of wonder
From Thalaba arousd her.
She raisd her head & saw,
Amid an ancient grove
Trees of whose giant size
The happy hills of Yemen could not
boast,
Where high in air a stately palace
rose.
The mighty Pyramids,
That mock the power of Time,
That mock the memory of man,
With that prodigious fabric could not
vie.
Here studding azure tablatures,
And rayed with feeble light,
Star-like the ruby & the diamond
shone.
Here on the golden towers
The yellower moonbeam lays lies,
Here with white splendour floods the
silver wall.
Less wondrous pile & less
magnificent
Sennamar built at Hirah, tho his art
Seald with one stone the ample
edifice,
And made its colours, like the serpent
skin,
Play with a changeful beauty, him, its
Lord
Jealous lest after effort might
surpass
The now unequalld palace, from its
height
Dashd on the pavement down.
They enterd & thro aromatic paths
Wondering they went along.
At length upon a mossy bank,
Beneath a broad Mimosa’s shade
That oer him bent its living canopy,
An aged man they saw.
He slept – but at the sound
Of coming feet, awakening, fixd his
eyes
In wonder on the wanderer & her
child.
“Forgive us!” Zeinab cried,
“Distress hath made us bold.
“The widow & the fatherless are
we!
“Allah to those who succour them
“Hath promised paradise.”
The Old Man heard & lookd to Heaven
And tears ran down his cheeks.
“It is a human voice!
“I thank thee O my God!
“How many an age has past
“Since those sweet sounds have visited my
ear!
“I thank thee O my God –
“It is a human voice!”
To Zeinab turning then he cried
“O mortal who art thou
“Whose gifted eyes have pierced
“The veil invisible
“That for so many an age hath hid these
bowers
“From eye of mortal man?
“For countless years have past,
“And never foot of man
“The bowers of Irem trod,
“Save only I, – a miserable wretch!
“From Heaven & Earth shut out.”
Fearless & scarce surpriz’d
For grief in Zeinabs soul
All other feebler feelings
overpowerd.
She answerd, “yesterday
“I was a wife belovd,
“The envied mother of a numerous
race.
“I am a widow now,
“Of all my offspring this alone is
left!
“Praise to the Lord our God!
“He gave, he takes away!”
The Old Man answerd, “not by Heaven
unseen,
“Nor with unguided feet
“Thy steps have reachd this secret
place.
“Nor for light purpose is the veil
“That from the Universe hath long shut
out
“These ancient bowers, withdrawn.
“O Mortal hear my words,
“And when amid the world
“Thou shalt emerge again
“Repeat them to the multitude.
“Happy they who timely learn
“From others errors to be wise.
The Paradise of Irem this,
And that the palace pile
That Shedad built, the King.
Alas! in the days of my youth,
The hum of the populous world
Was heard in yon wilderness waste!
Oer all the winding sands
The tents of Ad were pitchd.
Happy Al Ahkaf then!
For many & brave were her sons,
Her daughters were many & fair.
My name was Aswad then –
Alas! alas! how strange
The sound so long unheard!
Of noble race I came,
One of the wealthy of the earth, my
sire.
An hundred horses in my fathers
stalls
Stood ready for his will,
Numerous his robes of silk,
The number of his camels was not
known.
These were my heritance,
Allah! thy gifts were these!
But better had it been for Aswads
soul
To have askd alms on earth
And beggd the crumbs that from his table
fell,
So he had known thy word!
Boy! who hast reachd this solitude
Fear thy Lord in the days of thy
youth!
My knee was never taught
To bend before my God.
My voice was never taught
To shape one holy prayer.
We worshippd idols, wood & stone,
The work of our own foolish hands
We worshippd in our foolishness.
Vainly the Prophets voice
Its frequent warning rais’d
“Repent & be forgiven!”
We mockd the messenger of God –
We mockd the righteous Lord.
A mighty work the pride of Shedad
plannd,
Here in the wilderness to form
A garden more surpassing fair
Than that before whose gate,
The lightning of the Cherubs fiery
sword
Waves wide to bar across
Since Adam, the transgressor, thence was
driven
Here too would Shedad build
A kingly pile sublime,
The Palace of his pride.
For this exhausted mines
Supplied their golden store,
For this the central caverns gave their
gems.
For this the woodmans axe
Opend the cedar forest to the Sun;
The silkworm of the East
Spun her sepulchral egg;
The hunter African
Provokd the danger of the Elephants
rage;
The Ethiop keen of scent
Detects the ebony,
That deep inearthd, & hating
light,
A leafless tree, & barren of all
fruit,
With darkness feeds her boughs of raven
grain.
Such were the treasures lavishd on yon
pile! –
Ages have past away
And never mortal eye
Gazed on their vanity!
The Garden, – Nature had with copious
springs
Blest that delightful spot;
Hither all trees were brought
That bend with luscious fruit,
And every flower was planted here
That makes the gale of evening sweet.
Here frequent in the walks
The marble statue stood
Of Heroes & of Kings, –
The trees & flowers remain
By Natures care perpetuate, & self
sown;
The marble statues long have lost all
trace
Of Heroes & of Kings, –
Huge shapeless stones they lie
Oergrown with many a flower.
The work of pride went on.
Often the Prophets voice
Denouncd impending woe;
We mockd at the words of the Seer,
We mockd at the wrath of the Lord.
A long continued drought first woke our
dread;
Three years no cloud had formd,
Three years no rain had falln;
The wholesome herb was dry,
The corn matured not for the food of
man,
The wells & fountains faild.
To idols we applied for aid.
Sakia we invokd for rain,
We calld on Razeka for food.
They did not hear our prayers – they
could not hear!
No cloud appeard in Heaven,
No nightly dews came down.
Then to the Place of Concourse messengers
Were sent, to Mecca, where the nations
came
Round the red hillock kneeling to
implore
God in his favourd place.
We sent to call on God,
Ah fools! unthinking that from all the
earth
The heart ascends to him!
We sent to call on God,
Ah fools! to think the Lord
Would hear their prayers abroad
Who made no prayers at home;
Meantime the work of pride went on,
And still before our Idols, wood &
stone,
We bowd the impious knee.
“Turn men of Ad, & call upon your
God!”
The Prophet Houd exclaimd.
“Turn men of Ad, & look to Heaven
“And fly the wrath to come!”
We mockd the Prophets words,
“Now dost thou dream old man?
“Or art thou drunk with wine.
“Future woe & wrath to come
“Still thy prudent voice forebodes
“When it comes will we believe,
“Till it comes we will go on
“In the way our fathers went.
“Now are thy words from God?
“Or dost thou dream old man,
“Or art thou drunk with wine?
So spake the stubborn race,
The unbelieving ones.
I too of stubborn, unbelieving heart
Heard him & heeded not.
It chanced my father went the way of
man,
He perishd in his sins.
The funeral rites were duly paid,
We bound a Camel to his grave,
And left it there to die,
So if the Resurrection came
Together they might rise.
I past my fathers grave,
I heard the Camel moan,
It was his favourite beast,
One that carried me in infancy,
The first that, by myself, I learnt to
mount.
Her limbs were lean with famine, &
her eyes
Lookd ghastlily with want.
She knew me as I past,
She stared me in the face. –
My heart was touchd – had it been human
else?
I thought no eye was near, & broke
her bonds,
And drove her forth to liberty &
life.
The Prophet Houd beheld.
He lifted up his voice,
“Blessed art thou, young man,
“Blessed art thou O Aswad for the
deed!
“In the day of visitation,
“In the fearful hour of judgement,
“God will remember thee!”
The day of visitation was at hand –
The fearful hour of judgement hastend
on!
Lo! Shedads mighty pile compleat,
The palace of his pride.
And now the Kings command went forth
Among the people, bidding old &
young,
Husband & wife, the master & the
slave
All the collected multitudes of Ad
Here to repair & hold high
festival,
That he might see his people, they
behold
Their Kings magnificence & power.
The day of festival arrived,
Hither they came, the old man & the
boy,
Husband & wife, the master & the
slave,
All the collected multitudes of Ad,
Hither they came. From yonder high tower
top,
The loftiest of the palace, Shedad
lookd
Down on his
people the tribe. their tents on yonder
sands
Rose like the countless billows of the
sea,
Their tread & voices like the ocean
roar
One deep confusion of tumultuous
sound.
They saw their Kings magnificence,
beheld
His palace sparkling like the Angel
domes
Of Paradise, his garden like the
bowers
Of early Eden, & they shouted
forth
“Great is the King, a God upon the
earth!”
Intoxicate with joy & pride
He heard their blasphemies,
And in his wantonness of heart, he
bade
The Prophet Houd be brought,
And oer the marble courts,
And oer the gorgeous rooms
Glittering with gems & gold
He led the man of God.
“Is not this a stately pile?”
Cried the Monarch in his pride,
“Hath ever eye beheld.
“Hath ever heart conceived
“Pile more magnificent?
“Houd! they say that Heaven imparted
“To thy lips the words of wisdom, –
“Look at the riches round,
“And value them aright!”
The Prophet heard his vaunts, & with
a smile
More awful than a frown of wrath had
been,
“Costly the pile,” he cried, “O King!
“But only in the hour of death
“Man learns to value things like these
aright.
“Hast thou a fault to find
“In all thine eyes have seen?”
Again the King exclaimd.
“Yes, said the Man of God –
“The walls are weak, the building ill
secur’d.
“Azrael can enter in, –
“The Sarsar can pierce thro –
“The icy wind of Death!”
I was beside the Monarch as he spake,
Gentle the Prophet spake,
But in his eye there dwelt
A sorrow that disturbd me while I
gazd
The countenance of Shedad fell,
And anger sate upon his paler lips.
He to the high tower top the Prophet
led,
And pointed to the multitude,
And as again they shouted forth
“Great is the King, a God upon the
earth!
Turnd with a threatful smile to Houd
“Say they aright O Prophet? is the
King
“Great upon earth, – a God among
mankind
The Prophet answerd not,
His eye rolld round the infinite
multitude
And into tears he burst.
Sudden an uproar rose,
A cry of joy below –
“Kail from Mecca comes –
“he brings the boon obtaind
Forth as we went, we saw where
overhead
There hung a deep black cloud,
On which the multitude
With joyful eyes lookd up
And blest the coming rain.
The Messenger addrest the King
And told his tale of joy.
“To Mecca I repaird,
“By the red hillock knelt,
“And calld on God for rain.
My prayer ascended & was heard.
“Three clouds appeard in heaven
“One white & like the flying cloud of
moon,
“One red as it had drunk the evening
beams,
“One black & heavy with its load of
rain.
“A voice went forth from heaven
“Chuse, Kaïl of the three!”
“I thankd the gracious Power,
“And chose the black cloud, heavy with
its wealth.”
“Right! right!” a thousand tongues
exclaimd
And all was merriment & joy.
Then Houd lookd up & cried
“A little while O God.’ suspend thy
wrath
“That from this miserable place
“I & the righteous few
“In safety may go forth!”
He said & followed by the righteous
few
Hastened from Irem fast.
They went, & darker grew
The deepening cloud above.
At length it opend – & O God! O
God!
There were no waters there –
There fell no kindly rain –
The Sarsar from its womb went forth,
The icy wind of Death!
They fell around me – thousands fell
around –
The King & all his people fell –
All – all – they perished all –
I – only I – was left!
There came a voice to me & said
“In the day of visitation,
“In the fearful hour of judgement –
“God hath rememberd thee!”
When from an agony of prayer I rose
And from the scene of death
Attempted to go forth,
The way was open, I beheld
No barrier to my steps –
But round these bowers the arm of God
Had drawn a mighty chain,
A barrier that no human force might
break.
Twice I essayd to pass,
With that the Voice was heard
“O Aswad be content & bless the
Lord!
“One righteous deed hath saved
“Thy soul from utter death.
“O Aswad, sinful man!
“When by long penitence
“Thou feelst thy soul prepard
“Breathe up the wish to die,
“And Azrael comes, obedient to the
prayer!”
A miserable man
From earth & heaven shut out
I heard the dreadful voice.
I lookd around my prison place,
The bodies of the dead were there,
Whereer I lookd, they lay,
They moulderd, moulderd here,
Their very bones have crumbled into
dust,
So many years hath past.
So many weary ages are gone by, –
And still I linger here!
Still groaning with the burthen of my
sins,
Have never dard to breathe
The prayer to be releast.
Oh! who can tell the unspeakable
misery
Of solitude like this.
No sound hath ever reachd my ear,
Save of the passing wind;
The fountains everlasting flow –
The forest in the gale,
The pattering of the shower
Sounds dead & mournful all!
No bird hath ever closd her wing
Upon these solitary bowers.
No insect sweetly buzzd amid these
groves,
From all things that have life,
Save only one, conceald.
This Tree alone that oer my head
Hangs down its hospitable boughs
And bends its whispering leaves
As tho to welcome me,
Seems to partake of life –
I love it as my friend – my only
friend!
I know not for what ages I have
draggd
This miserable life,
How often I have seen
These ancient trees renewd,
What countless generations of
mankind,
Have risen & falln asleep,
And I remain the same!
My garment hath waxed not old,
The sole of my shoe is not worn.
I dare not breathe the prayer to die,
O merciful Lord God!
But when it is thy will,
But when I have atoned
For mine iniquities,
And sufferings have made pure
My soul with sin defild,
Release me in thine own good time!
I will not cease to praise thee O my
God
Silence ensued awhile, then Zeinab
cried
“Blessed art thou O Aswad! for the
Lord
“Who savd thy soul from Hell
“Will call thee to him in his own good
time!
“And would that when my heart
“Breathd up its wish to die,
“Azrael might visit me!
“Then would I follow where my babes are
gone,
“And join Hodeirah now!”
She ceasd – & the rushing of
wings
Was heard in the stillness of night,
And Azrael, the death Angel, stood before
them.
His countenance was dark,
Solemn, but not severe,
It awed, but struck no terror to the
heart.
“Zeinab, thy wish is heard.
“Aswad, thy hour is come.”
They fell upon the ground & blest the
voice
And Azrael raisd his sword
And dropt the drops of bitterness of
death.
“Me too! me too!” young Thalaba
exclaim’d
As wild with grief he kist
His mothers livid hand
His mothers quivering lips –
“O Angel, take me too!”
“Son of Hodeirah,” the death Angel
cried,
“It is not yet the hour.
“Son of Hodeirah, thou art chosen
forth
“To do the will of Heaven,
“To avenge thy fathers death,
“To work the mightiest enterprize
“That mortal man hath wrought.
“Live & remember Destiny
“Hath markd thee from mankind!”
He ceasd, & he was gone.
Young Thalaba lookd round.
The Palace & the Grove were seen no
more,
He stood amid the wilderness, alone.
[1]
__________
