Green Bird of Paradise, With slow associate flight, And now they reach the fountain of the rock. XV. There, in the cold clear well, Thalaba wash'd away his earthly stains, And bow'd his face before the Lord, And fortified his soul with prayer. The while, upon the rock, Stood the celestial Bird, And, pondering all the perils he must pass, With a mild melancholy eye, Beheld the youth belov'd. XVI. And lo! beneath yon lonely pine, the sledge- They were lean, as lean might be, XVII. The Youth, with the start of their speed, And now upon the height As if to plead for pity; XVIII. Once more away! and now Thy shatter'd flesh will harden in the frost. Scourge nor goad hath he; A wide, wide plain, all desolate, They laid them down and slept, Lay nestling in his breast. They sooth'd the soften'd soul. Her bill was not the beak of blood: There was a human meaning in her eye; Its mild affection fix'd on Thalaba, Woke wonder while he gaz'd, And made her dearer for the mystery. XXIII. Oh joy! the signs of life appear, The first and single Fir That on the limits of the living world Strikes in the ice its roots. Another, and another now; And now the Larch, that flings its arms Down-curving like the falling wave; And now the Aspin's scatter'd leaves Grey glitter on the moveless twig; The Poplar's varying verdure now, And now the Birch so beautiful, Light as a lady's plumes. The Throstle of sweet song! Came on his memory. The celestial Bird Saw and renew'd her speech. «O Thalaba, if she who in thine arms Receiv'd the dagger-blow, and died for thee, Deserve one kind remembrance,-save, O save, The Father that she lov'd, from endless death!» XXVIII. << Laila! and is it thou?» the youth replied. But who am I, that I should save XXIX. «Enough!» said Laila. « When the hour shall come, Remember me! my task is done. We meet again in Paradise!» She said, and shook her wings, and up she soar'd With arrow-swiftness through the heights of Heaven. XXX. His aching eye pursued her path, When starting onward went the Dogs, More rapidly they hurried on, In hope of near repose. It was the early morning yet, When, by the well-head of a brook They stopt, their journey done. The spring was clear, the water deep, A venturous man were he, and rash, That should have probed its depths, For all its loosen'd bed below Heav'd strangely up and down, And to and fro, from side to side, It heav'd, and wav'd, and tost, And yet the depths were clear, And yet no ripple wrinkled o'er The face of that fair Well, ΧΧΧΙ. And on that Well, so strange and fair, To her the Dogs look'd wistful up, And then their tongues were loos'd, « Have we done well, O Mistress dear! And shall our sufferings end?» XXXII. The gentle Damsel made reply, « Poor Servants of the God I serve, When all this witchery is destroy'd, Your woes will end with mine. A hope, alas! how long unknown! A deep and totai slumber as she spake Soon shaking off your penal forms, shall ye, With songs of joy, amid the Eden groves, Hymn the Deliverer's praise! XXXIII. Then did the Damsel say to Thalaba, The quiet brook flows on - Think, Stranger, well! and night must come,- Thou wilt embark with me!» She smil'd in tears upon the youth!— That melancholy smile? <«Sail on, sail on,» quoth Thalaba, XXXIV. He sate him on the single seat, The little boat mov'd on. Through pleasant banks the quiet brook Went winding pleasantly; By fragrant fir-groves now it past, The flag-flower blossom'd on its side, The freshness of the running stream, XXXV. But many a silent spring meantime, And many a rivulet and rill Had swold the growing brook; And when the southern Sun began To wind the downward way of heaven, It ran a river deep and wide, 6 Through banks that widen'd still. Then once again the Damsel spake, « The stream is strong, the river broad, Wilt thou go on with me? The day is fair, but night must come The little boat rides rapidly, And now with shorter toss it heaves And now so near, they see And the low-lurking rocks, O'er whose black summits, hidden half, And nearer now they feel the breaker's spray. Now is the ebb, and till the ocean-flow, Perform thy last ablutions, and with prayer Strengthen thy heart—I too have need to pray.»> 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 If, in the hour of anguish, I have felt, I go to work thy will, and from the world II. The Sun was rising all magnificent, Perform'd his last ablutions, and he stood And then upon the beach he laid him down, VII. Stranger,» quoth she, « in years long past The Champion of the Lord, like thee, Young was he, as thyself, Gentle, and yet so brave! Shame on me, Stranger! in the arms of love |