by Thomas Moore
“A sceptre’s puny point can wield it all!
“Ye too, believers of incredible creeds,
“Whose faith enshrines the monsters which it breeds;
“Who, bolder even than NEMROD, think to rise
“By nonsense heapt on nonsense to the skies;
“Ye shall have miracles, ay, sound ones too,
“Seen, heard, attested, everything — but true.
“Your preaching zealots too inspired to seek
“One grace of meaning for the things they speak:
“Your martyrs ready to shed out their blood,
“For truths too heavenly to be understood;
“And your State Priests, sole venders of the lore,
“That works salvation; — as, on AVA’S shore,
“Where none but priests are privileged to trade
“In that best marble of which Gods are made50;
“They shall have mysteries — ay precious stuff
“For knaves to thrive by — mysteries enough;
“Dark, tangled doctrines, dark as fraud can weave,
“Which simple votaries shall on trust receive,
“While craftier feign belief till they believe.
“A Heaven too ye must have, ye lords of dust, —
“A splendid Paradise, — pure souls, ye must:
“That Prophet ill sustains his holy call,
“Who finds not heavens to suit the tastes of all;
“Houris for boys, omniscience for sages,
“And wings and glories for all ranks and ages.
“Vain things! — as lust or vanity inspires,
“The heaven of each is but what each desires,
“And, soul or sense, whate’er the object be,
“Man would be man to all eternity!
“So let him — EBLIS! grant this crowning curse,
“But keep him what he is, no Hell were worse.”
“Oh my lost soul!” exclaimed the shuddering maid,
Whose ears had drunk like poison all he said:
MOKANNA started — not abasht, afraid, —
He knew no more of fear than one who dwells
Beneath the tropics knows of icicles!
But in those dismal words that reached his ear,
“Oh my lost soul!” there was a sound so drear,
So like that voice among the sinful dead
In which the legend o’er Hell’s Gate is read,
That, new as ’twas from her whom naught could dim
Or sink till now, it startled even him.
“Ha, my fair Priestess!” — thus, with ready wile,
The impostor turned to greet her— “thou whose smile
“Hath inspiration in its rosy beam
“Beyond the Enthusiast’s hope or Prophet’s dream,
“Light of the Faith! who twin’st religion’s zeal
“So close with love’s, men know not which they feel,
“Nor which to sigh for, in their trance of heart,
“The heaven thou preachest or the heaven thou art!
“What should I be without thee? without thee
“How dull were power, how joyless victory!
“Tho’ borne by angels, if that smile of thine
“Blest not my banner ‘twere but half divine.
“But — why so mournful, child? those eyes that shone
“All life last night — what! — is their glory gone?
“Come, come — this morn’s fatigue hath made them pale,
“They want rekindling — suns themselves would fail
“Did not their comets bring, as I to thee,
“From light’s own fount supplies of brilliancy.
“Thou seest this cup — no juice of earth is here,
“But the pure waters of that upper sphere,
“Whose rills o’er ruby beds and topaz flow,
“Catching the gem’s bright color as they go.
“Nightly my Genii come and fill these urns —
“Nay, drink — in every drop life’s essence burns;
“‘Twill make that soul all fire, those eyes all light —
“Come, come, I want thy loveliest smiles to-night:
“There is a youth — why start? — thou saw’st him then;
“Lookt he not nobly? such the godlike men,
“Thou’lt have to woo thee in the bowers above; —
“Tho’ he, I fear, hath thoughts too stern for love,
“Too ruled by that cold enemy of bliss
“The world calls virtue — we must conquer this;
“Nay, shrink not, pretty sage! ’tis not for thee
“To scan the mazes of Heaven’s mystery:
“The steel must pass thro’ fire, ere it can yield
“Fit instruments for mighty hands to wield.
“This very night I mean to try the art
“Of powerful beauty on that warrior’s heart.
“All that my Haram boasts of bloom and wit,
“Of skill and charms, most rare and exquisite,
“Shall tempt the boy; — young MIRZALA’S blue eyes
“Whose sleepy lid like snow on violets lies;
“AROUYA’S cheeks warm as a spring-day sun
“And lips that like the seal of SOLOMON
“Have magic in their pressure; ZEBA’S lute,
“And LILLA’S dancing feet that gleam and shoot
“Rapid and white as sea-birds o’er the deep —
“All shall combine their witching powers to steep
“My convert’s spirit in that softening trance,
“From which to heaven is but the next advance; —
“That glowing, yielding fusion of the breast.
“On which Religion stamps her image best.
“But hear me, Priestess! — tho’ each nymph of these
“Hath some peculiar, practised power to please,
“Some glance or step which at the mirror tried
“First charms herself, then all the world beside:
“There still wants one to make the victory sure,
“One who in every look joins every lure,
“Thro’ whom all beauty’s beams concentred pass,
“Dazzling and warm as thro’ love’s burning glass;
“Whose gentle lips persuade without a word,
“Whose words, even when unmeaning, are adored.
“Like inarticulate breathings from a shrine,
“Which our faith takes for granted are divine!
“Such is the nymph we want, all warmth and light,
“To crown the rich temptations of to-night;
“Such the refined enchantress that must be
“This hero’s vanquisher, — and thou art she!”
With her hands claspt, her lips apart and pale,
The maid had stood gazing upon the Veil
From which these words like south winds thro’ a fence
Of Kerzrah flowers, came filled with pestilence;51
So boldly uttered too! as if all dread
Of frowns from her, of virtuous frowns, were fled,
And the wretch felt assured that once plunged in,
Her woman’s soul would know no pause in sin!
At first, tho’ mute she listened, like a dream
Seemed all he said: nor could her mind whose beam
As yet was weak penetrate half his scheme.
But when at length he uttered, “Thou art she!”
All flasht at once and shrieking piteously,
“Oh not for worlds! “she cried— “Great God! to whom
“I once knelt innocent, is this my doom?
“Are all my dreams, my hopes of heavenly bliss,
“My purity, my pride, then come to this, —
“To live, the wanton of a fiend! to be
“The pander of his guilt — oh infamy!
“And sunk myself as low as hell can steep
“In its hot flood, drag others down as
deep!
“Others — ha! yes — that youth who came to-day —
“Not him I loved — not him — oh! do but say,
“But swear to me this moment ’tis not he,
“And I will serve, dark fiend, will worship even thee!”
“Beware, young raving thing! — in time beware,
“Nor utter what I can not, must not bear,
“Even from thy lips. Go — try thy lute, thy voice,
“The boy must feel their magic; — I rejoice
“To see those fires, no matter whence they rise,
“Once more illuming my fait Priestess’ eyes;
“And should the youth whom soon those eyes shall warm,
“Indeed resemble thy dead lover’s form,
“So much the happier wilt thou find thy doom,
“As one warm lover full of life and bloom
“Excels ten thousand cold ones in the tomb.
“Nay, nay, no frowning, sweet! — those eyes were made
“For love, not anger — I must be obeyed.”
“Obeyed!— ’tis well — yes, I deserve it all —
“On me, on me Heaven’s vengeance can not fall
“Too heavily — but AZIM, brave and true
“And beautiful — must he be ruined too?
“Must he too, glorious as he is, be driven
“A renegade like me from Love and Heaven?
“Like me? — weak wretch, I wrong him — not like me;
“No — he’s all truth and strength and purity!
“Fill up your maddening hell-cup to the brim,
“Its witchery, fiends, will have no charm for him.
“Let loose your glowing wantons from their bowers,
“He loves, he loves, and can defy their powers!
“Wretch as I am, in his heart still I reign
“Pure as when first we met, without a stain!
“Tho’ ruined — lost — my memory like a charm
“Left by the dead still keeps his soul from harm.
“Oh! never let him know how deep the brow
“He kist at parting is dishonored now; —
“Ne’er tell him how debased, how sunk is she.
“Whom once he loved — once! — still loves dotingly.
“Thou laugh’st, tormentor, — what! — thou it brand my name?
“Do, do — in vain — he’ll not believe my shame —
“He thinks me true, that naught beneath God’s sky
“Could tempt or change me, and — so once thought I.
“But this is past — tho’ worse than death my lot,
“Than hell— ’tis nothing while he knows it not.
“Far off to some benighted land I’ll fly,
“Where sunbeam ne’er shall enter till I die;
“Where none will ask the lost one whence she came,
“But I may fade and fall without a name.
“And thou — curst man or fiend, whate’er thou art,
“Who found’st this burning plague-spot in my heart,
“And spread’st it — oh, so quick! — thro’ soul and frame,
“With more than demon’s art, till I became
“A loathsome thing, all pestilence, all flame! —
“If, when I’m gone”— “Hold, fearless maniac, hold,
“Nor tempt my rage — by Heaven, not half so bold
“The puny bird that dares with teasing hum
“Within the crocodile’s stretched jaws to come!52
“And so thou’lt fly, forsooth? — what! — give up all
“Thy chaste dominion in the Haram Hall,
“Where now to Love and now to ALLA given,
“Half mistress and half saint, thou hang’st as even
“As doth MEDINA’S tomb, ‘twixt hell and heaven!
“Thou’lt fly? — as easily may reptiles run,
“The gaunt snake once hath fixt his eyes upon;
“As easily, when caught, the prey may be
“Pluckt from his loving folds, as thou from me.
“No, no, ’tis fixt — let good or ill betide,
“Thou’rt mine till death, till death MOKANNA’S bride!
“Hast thou forgot thy oath?” —
At this dread word,
The Maid whose spirit his rude taunts had stirred
Thro’ all its depths and roused an anger there,
That burst and lightened even thro’ her despair —
Shrunk back as if a blight were in the breath
That spoke that word and staggered pale as death.
“Yes, my sworn bride, let others seek in bowers
“Their bridal place — the charnel vault was ours!
“Instead of scents and balms, for thee and me
“Rose the rich steams of sweet mortality,
“Gay, flickering death-lights shone while we were wed.
“And for our guests a row of goodly Dead,
“(Immortal spirits in their time, no doubt,)
“From reeking shrouds upon the rite looked out!
“That oath thou heard’st more lips than thine repeat —
“That cup — thou shudderest, Lady, — was it sweet?
“That cup we pledged, the charnel’s choicest wine,
“Hath bound thee — ay — body and soul all mine;
“Bound thee by chains that, whether blest or curst
“No matter now, not hell itself shall burst!
“Hence, woman, to the Haram, and look gay,
“Look wild, look — anything but sad; yet stay —
“One moment more — from what this night hath past,
“I see thou know’st me, know’st me well at last.
“Ha! ha! and so, fond thing, thou thought’st all true,
“And that I love mankind? — I do, I do —
“As victims, love them; as the sea-dog dotes
“Upon the small, sweet fry that round him floats;
“Or, as the Nile-bird loves the slime that gives
“That rank and venomous food on which she lives! —
“And, now thou seest my soul’s angelic hue,
“’Tis time these features were uncurtained too; —
“This brow, whose light — oh rare celestial light!
“Hath been reserved to bless thy favored sight;
“These dazzling eyes before whose shrouded might
“Thou’st seen immortal Man kneel down and quake —
“Would that they were heaven’s lightnings for his sake!
“But turn and look — then wonder, if thou wilt,
“That I should hate, should take revenge, by guilt,
“Upon the hand whose mischief or whose mirth
“Sent me thus mained and monstrous upon earth;
“And on that race who, tho’ more vile they be
“Than moving apes, are demigods to me!
“Here — judge if hell, with all its power to damn,
“Can add one curse to the foul thing I am!” —
He raised his veil — the Maid turned slowly round,
Looked at him — shrieked — and sunk upon the ground!
On their arrival next night at the place of encampment they were surprised and delighted to find the groves all around illuminated; some artists of Yamtcheou53 having been sent on previously for the purpose. On each side of the green alley, which led to the Royal Pavilion, artificial sceneries of bamboo-work were erected, representing arches, minarets, towers, from which hung thousands of silken lanterns painted by the most delicate pencils of Canton. — Nothing could be more beautiful than the leaves of the mango-trees and acacias shining in the light of the bamboo-scenery which shed a lustre round as soft as that of the nights of Peristan.
LALLA ROOKH, however, who was too much occupied by the sad story of ZELICA and her lover to give a thought to anything else, except perhaps him who related it, hurried on through this scene of splendor to her pavilion, — greatly to the mortif
ication of the poor artists of Yamtcheou, — and was followed with equal rapidity by the Great Chamberlain, cursing, as he went, that ancient Mandarin, whose parental anxiety in lighting up the shores of the lake, where his beloved daughter had wandered and been lost, was the origin of these fantastic Chinese illuminations.54
Without a moment’s delay, young FERAMORZ was introduced, and FADLADEEN, who could never make up his mind as to the merits of a poet till he knew the religious sect to which he belonged, was about to ask him whether he was a Shia or a Sooni when LALLA KOOKH impatiently clapped her hands for silence, and the youth being seated upon the musnud near her proceeded: —
Prepare thy soul, young AZIM! — thou hast braved
The bands of GREECE, still mighty tho’ enslaved;
Hast faced her phalanx armed with all its fame, —
Her Macedonian pikes and globes of fame,
All this hast fronted with firm heart and brow,
But a more perilous trial waits thee now, —
Woman’s bright eyes, a dazzling host of eyes
From every land where woman smiles or sighs;
Of every hue, as Love may chance to raise
His black or azure banner in their blaze;
And each sweet mode of warfare, from the flash
That lightens boldly thro’ the shadowy lash,
To the sly, stealing splendors almost hid
Like swords half-sheathed beneath the downcast lid; —
Such, AZIM, is the lovely, luminous host
Now led against thee; and let conquerors boast
Their fields of fame, he who in virtue arms
A young, warm spirit against beauty’s charms,
Who feels her brightness, yet defies her thrall,
Is the best, bravest conqueror of them all.
Now, thro’ the Haram chambers, moving lights
And busy shapes proclaim the toilet’s rites; —
From room to room the ready handmaids hie,
Some skilled to wreath the turban tastefully,
Or hang the veil in negligence of shade
O’er the warm blushes of the youthful maid,
Who, if between the folds but one eye shone,
Like SEBA’S Queen could vanquish with that one:55 —
While some bring leaves of Henna to imbue
The fingers’ ends with a bright roseate hue,56
So bright that in the mirror’s depth they seem
Like tips of coral branches in the stream:
And others mix the Kohol’s jetty dye,
To give that long, dark languish to the eye,57
Which makes the maids whom kings are proud to call
From fair Circassia’s vales, so beautiful.
All is in motion; rings and plumes and pearls
