“That run this course ;-Beings, the most divine,
“Thus deign through dark mortality to shine.
"Such was the Essence that in ADAM dwelt,

"To which all Heaven, except the Proud One, knelt: * "Such the refined Intelligence that glow'd

"In Moussa's frame ;—and, thence descending, flow'd "Through many a Prophet's breast ;-in Issa † shone, "And in MOHAMMED burn'd; till, hastening on,

66

(As a bright river that, from fall to fall

"In many a maze descending, bright through all, "Finds some fair region where, each labyrinth pass'd, "In one full lake of light it rests at last!) "That Holy Spirit, settling calm and free "From lapse or shadow, centers all in me!"

Again, throughout th' assembly at these words,
Thousands of voices rung; the warriors' swords
Were pointed up to heaven; a sudden wind
In th' open banners play'd, and from behind
Those Persian hangings, that but ill could screen
The Haram's lovelines, white hands were seen

"And when we said unto the angels, Worship Adam, they all worshipped him except Eblis (Lucifer), who refused."-The Koran, chap. ii.

+ Jesus.

Waving embroider'd scarves, whose motion gave
A perfume forth;-like those the Houris wave
When beckoning to their bowers th' Immortal Brave.

"But these," pursued the Chief, "are truths

sublime,

"That claim a holier mood and calmer time "Than earth allows us now ;-this sword must first "The darkling prison-house of Mankind burst, "Ere Peace can visit them, or Truth let in "Her wakening day-light on a world of sin! "But then, celestial warriors, then, when all "Earth's shrines and thrones before our banner fall ; “When the glad Slave shall at these feet lay down "His broken chain, the tyrant Lord his crown, "The Priest his book, the Conqueror his wreath, "And from the lips of Truth one mighty breath "Shall, like a whirlwind, scatter in its breeze “That whole dark pile of human mockeries;— “Then shall the reign of Mind commence on earth, "And starting fresh, as from a second birth, "Man, in the sunshine of the world's new spring, "Shall walk transparent, like some holy thing!

"Then, too, your Prophet from his angel brow "Shall cast the Veil, that hides its splendours now, "And gladden'd Earth shall, through her wide expanse, "Bask in the glories of this countenance !

"For thee, young warrior, welcome!-thou hast yet "Some tasks to learn, some frailties to forget, "Ere the white war-plume o'er thy brow can wave ;"But, once iny own, mine all till in the grave!" The Pomp is at an end, the crowds are goneEach ear and heart still haunted by the tone

Of that deep voice, which thrill'd like ALLA's own!
The Young all dazzled by the plumes and lances,
The glittering throne, and Haram's half-caught glances,
The Old deep pondering on the promised reign

Of

peace and truth; and all the female train Ready to risk their eyes, could they but gaze A moment on that brow's miraculous blaze!

But there was one among the chosen maids Who blush'd behind the gallery's silken shades, One, to whose scul the pageant of to-day

Has been like death;-you saw her pale dismay,

Ye wondering sisterhood, and heard the burst
Of exclamation from her lips, when first
She saw that youth, too well, too dearly known,
Silently kneeling at the Prophet's throne.

Ah ZELICA! there was a time, when bliss Shone o'er thy heart from every look of his ; When but to see him, hear him, breathe the air In which he dwelt, was thy soul's fondest prayer! When round him hung such a perpetual spell, Whate'er he did, none ever did so well.

Too happy days! when, if he touch'd a flower

Or
gem of thine, 'twas sacred from that hour;
When thou didst study him till every tone
And gesture and dear look became thy own,—
Thy voice like his, the changes of his face
In thine reflected with still lovelier grace,
Like echo, sending back sweet music, fraught
With twice th' aërial sweetness it had brought!
Yet now he comes-brighter than even he
E'er beam'd before,-but ah! not bright for thee;
No-dread, unlook'd for, like a visitant

From th' other world, he comes as if to haunt

Thy guilty soul with dreams of lost delight,
Long lost to all but Memory's aching sight :-
Sad dreams! as when the Spirit of our Youth
Returns in sleep, sparkling with all the truth
And innocence once ours, and leads us back,
In mournful mockery, o'er the shining track
Of our young life, and points out every ray
Of hope and peace we've lost upon the way!

Once happy pair!-in proud BоKHARA's groves, Who had not heard of their first youthful loves? Born by that ancient flood,* which from its spring In the Dark Mountains swiftly wandering, Enrich'd by every pilgrim brook that shines With relics from BUCHARIA'S ruby mines, And, lending to the CASPIAN half its strength, In the cold Lake of Eagles sinks at length ;— There, on the banks of that bright river born, The flowers, that hung above the wave at morn, Bless'd not the waters as they murmur'd by, With holier scent and lustre, than the sigh

* The Amoo, which rises in the Belur Tag, or Dark Mountains, and, running nearly from east to west, splits into two branches, one of which falls into the Caspian sea, and the other into Aral Nahr, or the Lake of Eagles.