Alone, beside a rivulet it stands

The Upas[161] Tree of Death.

Thro’ barren banks the barren waters flow,

The fish that meets them in the unmingling sea

Floats poisoned on the waves.

Tree grows not near, nor bush, nor flower, nor herb,

The Earth has lost its parent powers of life

And the fresh dew of Heaven that there descends,

Steams in rank poison up.

Before the appointed Youth and Maimuna

Saw the first struggle of the dying throng,

Crash sunk their prison wall!

The whirlwind wrapt them round;

Borne in the Chariot of the Winds

Ere there was time to fear, their way was past,

And lo! again they stand

In the cave-dwelling of the blue-eyed Witch.

Then came the weakness of her natural age

At once on Maimuna;

The burthen of her years

Fell on her, and she knew

That her repentance in the sight of God

Had now found favour, and her hour was come.

Her death was like the righteous; “Turn my face

“To Mecca!” in her languid eyes.

The joy of certain hope

Lit a last lustre, and in death

The smile was on her cheek.

No faithful[162] crowded round her bier,

No tongue reported her good deeds,

For her no mourners wailed and wept,

No Iman o’er her perfumed corpse,

For her soul’s health intoned the prayer;

No column[163] raised by the way side

Implored the passing traveller

To say a requiem for the dead.

Thalaba laid her in the snow,

And took his weapons from the hearth,

And then once more the youth began

His weary way of solitude.

The breath of the East is in his face

And it drives the sleet and the snow.

The air is keen, the wind is keen,

His limbs are aching with the cold,

His eyes are aching[164] with the snow,

His very heart is cold,

His spirit chilled within him. He looks on

If ought of life be near,

But all is sky and the white wilderness,

And here and there a solitary pine,

Its branches broken by the weight of snow.

His pains abate, his senses dull

With suffering, cease to suffer.

Languidly, languidly,

Thalaba drags along,

A heavy weight is on his lids,

His limbs move slow with heaviness,

And he full fain would sleep.

Not yet, not yet, O Thalaba!

Thy hour of rest is come;

Not yet may the Destroyer sleep

The comfortable sleep,

His journey is not over yet,

His course not yet fulfilled;...

Run thou thy race, O Thalaba!

The prize is at the goal.

It was a Cedar-tree

That woke him from the deadly drowsiness;

Its broad, round-spreading[165] branches when they felt

The snow, rose upward in a point to heaven,

And standing in their strength erect,

Defied the baffled storm.

He knew the lesson Nature gave,

And he shook off his heaviness,

And hope revived within him.

Now sunk the evening sun,

A broad, red, beamless orb,

Adown the glowing sky;

Thro’ the red light the snow-flakes fell, like fire.

Louder grows the biting wind,

And it drifts the dust of the snow.

The snow is clotted in his hair,

The breath of Thalaba

Is iced upon his lips.

He looks around, the darkness,

The dizzy floating of the snow,

Close in his narrow view.

At length thro’ the thick atmosphere a light

Not distant far appears.

He doubting other wiles of enmity,

With mingled joy and quicker step,

Bends his way thitherward.

It was a little, lowly dwelling place,

Amid a garden, whose delightful air

Felt mild and fragrant, as the evening wind

Passing in summer o’er the coffee-groves[166]

Of Yemen and its blessed bowers of balm.

A Fount of Fire that in the centre played,

Rolled all around its wonderous rivulets

And fed the garden with the heat of life.

Every where magic! the Arabian’s heart

Yearned after human intercourse.

A light!... the door unclosed!...

All silent ... he goes in.

There lay a Damsel sleeping on a couch,

His step awoke her, and she gazed at him

With pleased and wondering look,

Fearlessly, like a yearling child

Too ignorant to fear.

With words of courtesy

The young intruder spake.

At the sound of his voice a joy

Kindled her bright black eyes;

She rose and took his hand,

But at the touch the smile forsook her cheek,

“Oh! it is cold!” she cried,

“I thought I should have felt it warm like mine,

“But thou art like the rest!”

Thalaba stood mute awhile

And wondering at her words:

“Cold? Lady!” then he said; “I have travelled long

“In this cold wilderness,

“Till life is almost spent!”

LAILA.

Art thou a Man then?

THALABA.

I did not think

Sorrow and toil could so have altered me,

That I seem otherwise.

LAILA.

    And thou canst be warm

Sometimes? life-warm as I am?

THALABA.

Surely Lady

As others are, I am, to heat and cold

Subject like all, you see a Traveller,

Bound upon hard adventure, who requests

Only to rest him here to-night, to-morrow

He will pursue his way.

LAILA.

    Oh ... not to-morrow!

Not like a dream of joy, depart so soon!

And whither wouldst thou go? for all around

Is everlasting winter, ice and snow,

Deserts unpassable of endless frost.

THALABA.

He who has led me here will still sustain me

Thro’ cold and hunger.

“Hunger?” Laila cried;

She clapt her lilly hands,

And whether from above or from below

It came, sight could not see,

So suddenly the floor was spread with food.

LAILA.

Why dost thou watch with hesitating eyes

The banquet? ’tis for thee! I bade it come.

THALABA.

Whence came it?

LAILA.

    Matters it from whence it came

My father sent it: when I call, he hears.

Nay ... thou hast fabled with me! and art like

The forms that wait upon my solitude,

Human to eye alone;... thy hunger would not

Question so idly else.

THALABA.

I will not eat!

It came by magic! fool to think that aught

But fraud and danger could await me here!

Let loose my cloak!...

LAILA.

    Begone then, insolent!

Why dost thou stand and gaze upon my face?

Aye! watch the features well that threaten thee

With fraud and danger! in the wilderness

They shall avenge me,... in the hour of want

Rise on thy view, and make thee feel

How innocent I am:

And this remembered cowardice and insult

With a more painful shame will burn thy cheek

Than now beats mine in anger!

THALABA.

Mark me Lady!

Many and restless are my enemies;

My daily paths have been beset with snares

Till I have learnt suspicion, bitter sufferings

Teaching the needful vice, if I have wronged you,

And yours should be the face of innocence,

I pray you pardon me! in the name of God,

And of his Prophet, I partake your food.

LAILA.

Lo now! thou wert afraid of sorcery,

And yet hast said a charm!

THALABA.

A charm?

LAILA.

And wherefore?

Is it not not delicate food? what mean thy words?

I have heard many spells and many names

That rule the Genii and the Elements,

But never these.

THALABA.

How! never heard the names

Of God and of the Prophet?

LAILA.

Never ... nay now

Again that troubled eye? thou art a strange man

And wonderous fearful ... but I must not twice

Be charged with fraud! if thou suspectest still,

Depart and leave me!

THALABA.

And you do not know

The God that made you?

LAILA.

Made me, man! my Father

Made me. He made this dwelling, and the grove,

And yonder fountain-fire, and every morn

He visits me, and takes the snow, and moulds

Women and men, like thee; and breathes into them

Motion, and life, and sense,... but to the touch

They are chilling cold, and ever when night closes

They melt away again, and leave me here

Alone and sad. Oh then how I rejoice

When it is day and my dear Father comes,

And chears me with kind words and kinder looks!

My dear, dear, Father! were it not for him,

I am so weary of this loneliness,

That I should wish I also were of snow

That I might melt away, and cease to be.

THALABA.

And have you always had your dwelling here

Amid this solitude of snow?

LAILA.

I think so.

I can remember with unsteady feet

Tottering from room to room, and finding pleasure

In flowers and toys and sweetmeats, things that long

Have lost their power to please; that when I see them

Raise only now a melancholy wish

I were the little trifler once again

That could be pleased so lightly!

THALABA.

Then you know not

Your Father’s art?

LAILA.

No. I besought him once

To give me power like his, that where he went

I might go with him: but he shook his head,

And said it was a power too dearly bought,

And kist me with the tenderness of tears.

THALABA.

And wherefore has he hidden you thus far

From all the ways of humankind?

LAILA.

’Twas fear,

Fatherly fear and love. He read[167] the stars

And saw a danger in my destiny,

And therefore placed me here amid the snows,

And laid a spell that never human eye,

If foot of man by chance should reach the depth

Of this wide waste, shall see one trace of grove,

Garden, or dwelling-place, or yonder fire,

That thaws and mitigates the frozen sky.

And more than this, even if the enemy

Should come, I have a guardian here.

THALABA.

A guardian?

LAILA.

’Twas well that when my sight unclosed upon thee

There was no dark suspicion in thy face.

Else I had called his succour! wilt thou see him?

But if a Woman can have terrified thee,

How wilt thou bare his unrelaxing brow

And lifted lightnings?

THALABA.

Lead me to him, Lady!

She took him by the hand

And thro’ the porch they past.

Over the garden and the grove

The fountain streams of fire

Poured a broad light like noon.

A broad unnatural light

That made the Rose’s blush of beauty pale,

And dimmed the rich Geranium’s scarlet blaze.

The various verdure of the grove

Now wore one undistinguishable grey,

Checqured with blacker shade.

Suddenly Laila stopt,

“I do not think thou art the enemy,”

She said, “but He will know!

“If thou hast meditated wrong

“Stranger, depart in time....

“I would not lead thee to thy death!”

The glance of Laila’s eye

Turned anxiously toward the Arabian youth.

“So let him pierce my heart,” cried Thalaba,

“If it hide thought to harm you!”

LAILA.

’Tis a figure,

Almost I fear to look at!... yet come on.

’Twill ease me of a heaviness that seems

To sink my heart; and thou mayest dwell here then.

In safety;... for thou shalt not go to-morrow,

Nor on the after, nor the after day,

Nor ever! it was only solitude

That made my misery here,...

And now that I can see a human face,

And hear a human voice....

Oh no! thou wilt not leave me!

THALABA.

Alas I must not rest!

The star that ruled at my nativity

Shone with a strange and blasting influence.

O gentle Lady! I should draw upon you

A killing curse.

LAILA.

But I will ask my Father

To save you from all danger, and you know not

The wonders he can work, and when I ask

It is not in his power to say me nay.

Perhaps thou knowest the happiness it is

To have a tender father?

THALABA.

He was one

Whom like a loathsome leper I have tainted

With my contagious destiny. At evening

He kist me as he wont, and laid his hands

Upon my head, and blest me ere I slept.

His dying groan awoke me, for the Murderer

Had stolen upon our sleep! for me was meant

The midnight blow of death; my father died,

The brother play-mates of my infancy,

The baby at the breast, they perished all,

All in that dreadful hour: but I was saved

To remember and revenge.

She answered not, for now

Emerging from the o’er-arched avenue

The finger of her upraised hand

Marked where the Guardian of the garden stood.

It was a brazen[168] Image, every limb

And swelling vein and muscle, true to life:

The left knee bending on,

The other straight, firm planted, and his hand

Lifted on high to hurl

The Lightning that it grasped.

When Thalaba approached,

The charmed Image knew Hodeirah’s son,

And hurled the lightning at the dreaded foe.

The Ring! the saviour Ring!

Full in his face the lightning-bolt was driven,

The scattered fire recoiled.

Like the flowing of a summer gale he felt

Its ineffectual force,

His countenance was not changed,

Nor a hair of his head was singed.

He started and his glance

Turned angrily upon the Maid,

The sight disarmed suspicion ... breathless, pale,

Against a tree she stood.

Her wan lips quivering, and her eye

Upraised, in silent supplicating fear.

She started with a scream of joy

Seeing her Father there,

And ran and threw her arms around his neck,

“Save me!” she cried, “the Enemy is come!

“Save me! save me! Okba!”

“Okba!” repeats the youth,

For never since that hour

When in the Tent the Spirit told his name,

Had Thalaba let slip

The memory of his Father’s murderer;

“Okba!”... and in his hand

He graspt an arrow-shaft.

And he rushed on to strike him.

“Son of Hodeirah!” the Old Man replied,

“My hour is not yet come.”

And putting forth his hand

Gently he repelled the Youth.

“My hour is not yet come!

“But thou mayest shed this innocent Maiden’s blood,

“That vengeance God allows thee.”

Around her Father’s neck

Still Laila’s hands were clasped.

Her face was turned to Thalaba,

A broad light floated o’er its marble paleness,

As the wind waved the fountain fire.

Her large, dilated eye in horror raised

Watched his every movement.

“Not upon her,” said he,

“Not upon her Hodeirah’s blood cries out

“For vengeance!” and again his lifted arm

Threatened the Sorcerer,

Again withheld it felt

The barrier that no human strength could burst.

“Thou dost not aim the blow more eagerly,”

Okba replied, “than I would rush to meet it!

“But that were poor revenge.

“O Thalaba, thy God

“Wreaks on the innocent head

“His vengeance;... I must suffer in my child!

“Why dost thou pause to strike thy victim? Allah

“Permits, commands the deed.”

“Liar!” quoth Thalaba.

And Laila’s wondering eye

Looked up, all anguish to her Father’s face,

“By Allah and the Prophet,” he replied,

“I speak the words of truth.

“Misery, misery,

“That I must beg mine enemy to speed

“The inevitable vengeance now so near!

“I read it in her horoscope,

“Her birth-star warned me of Hodeirah’s race.

“I laid a spell, and called a Spirit up.

“He answered one must die

“Laila or Thalaba....

“Accursed Spirit! even in truth

“Giving a lying hope!

“Last, I ascended the seventh Heaven

“And on the everlasting[169] Table there

“In characters of light,

“I read her written doom.

“The years that it has gnawn me! and the load

“Of sin that it has laid upon my soul!

“Curse on this hand that in the only hour

“The favouring stars allowed

“Reeked with other blood than thine.

“Still dost thou stand and gaze incredulous?

“Young man, be merciful, and keep her not

“Longer in agony!”

Thalaba’s unbelieving frown

Scowled on the Sorcerer,

When in the air the rush of wings was heard

And Azrael stood among them.

In equal terror at the sight

The Enchanter, the Destroyer stood,

And Laila, the victim maid.

“Son of Hodeirah!” said the Angel of Death,

“The accursed fables not.

“When from the Eternal Hand I took

“The yearly[170] scroll of fate,

“Her name was written there.

“This is the hour, and from thy hands

“Commissioned to receive the Maid I come.”

“Hear me O Angel!” Thalaba replied,

“To avenge my Father’s death,

“To work the will of Heaven,

“To root from earth the accursed sorcerer race,

“I have dared danger undismayed,

“I have lost all my soul held dear,

“I am cut off from all the ties of life,

“Unmurmuring; for whate’er awaits me still,

“Pursuing to the end the enterprize,

“Peril or pain, I bear a ready heart.

“But strike this Maid! this innocent!

“Angel, I dare not do it.”

“Remember,” answered Azrael, “all thou sayest

“Is written down for judgement! every word

“In the balance of[171] thy trial must be weighed!”

“So be it!” said the Youth.

“He who can read the secrets of the heart

“Will judge with righteousness!

“This is no doubtful path,

“The voice of God within me cannot lie....

“I will not harm the innocent.”

He said, and from above,

As tho’ it were the Voice of Night,

The startling answer came.

“Son of Hodeirah, think again!

“One must depart from hence,

“Laila, or Thalaba;

“She dies for thee, or thou for her,

“It must be life for life!

“Son of Hodeirah, weigh it well,

“While yet the choice is thine!”

He hesitated not,

But looking upward spread his hands to Heaven,

“Oneiza, in thy bower of Paradise

“Receive me, still unstained!”

“What!” exclaimed Okba, “darest thou disobey,

“Abandoning all claim

“To Allah’s longer aid?”

The eager exultation of his speech

Earthward recalled the thoughts of Thalaba.

“And dost thou triumph, Murderer? dost thou deem

“Because I perish, that the unsleeping lids

“Of Justice shall be closed upon thy crime?

“Poor, miserable man! that thou canst live

“With such beast-blindness in the present joy

“When o’er thy head the sword of God

“Hangs for the certain stroke!”

“Servant of Allah, thou hast disobeyed,

“God hath abandoned thee,

“This hour is mine!” cried Okba,

And shook his Daughter off,

And drew the dagger from his vest.

And aimed the deadly blow.

All was accomplished. Laila rushed between

To save the saviour Youth.

She met the blow and sunk into his arms,

And Azrael from the hands[172] of Thalaba

Received her parting soul.