The Revolt Of Islam. - Canto 11.

1.     She saw me not - she heard me not - alone     Upon the mountain's dizzy brink she stood;     She spake not, breathed not, moved not - there was thrown     Over her look, the shadow of a mood     Which only clothes the heart in solitude,     A thought of voiceless depth; - she stood alone,     Above, the Heavens were spread; - below, the flood     Was murmuring in its caves; - the wind had blown     Her hair apart, through which her eyes and forehead shone.     2.     A cloud was hanging o'er the western mountains;     Before its blue and moveless depth were flying     Gray mists poured forth from the unresting fountains     Of darkness in the North: - the day was dying: -     Sudden, the sun shone forth, its beams were lying     Like boiling gold on Ocean, strange to see,     And on the shattered vapours, which defying     The power of light in vain, tossed restlessly     In the red Heaven, like wrecks in a tempestuous sea.     3.     It was a stream of living beams, whose bank     On either side by the cloud's cleft was made;     And where its chasms that flood of glory drank,     Its waves gushed forth like fire, and as if swayed     By some mute tempest, rolled on HER; the shade     Of her bright image floated on the river     Of liquid light, which then did end and fade -     Her radiant shape upon its verge did shiver;     Aloft, her flowing hair like strings of flame did quiver.     4.     I stood beside her, but she saw me not -     She looked upon the sea, and skies, and earth;     Rapture, and love, and admiration wrought     A passion deeper far than tears, or mirth,     Or speech, or gesture, or whate'er has birth     From common joy; which with the speechless feeling     That led her there united, and shot forth     From her far eyes a light of deep revealing,     All but her dearest self from my regard concealing.     5.     Her lips were parted, and the measured breath     Was now heard there; - her dark and intricate eyes     Orb within orb, deeper than sleep or death,     Absorbed the glories of the burning skies,     Which, mingling with her heart's deep ecstasies,     Burst from her looks and gestures; - and a light     Of liquid tenderness, like love, did rise     From her whole frame, an atmosphere which quite     Arrayed her in its beams, tremulous and soft and bright.     6.     She would have clasped me to her glowing frame;     Those warm and odorous lips might soon have shed     On mine the fragrance and the invisible flame     Which now the cold winds stole; - she would have laid     Upon my languid heart her dearest head;     I might have heard her voice, tender and sweet;     Her eyes, mingling with mine, might soon have fed     My soul with their own joy. - One moment yet     I gazed - we parted then, never again to meet!     7.     Never but once to meet on Earth again!     She heard me as I fled - her eager tone     Sunk on my heart, and almost wove a chain     Around my will to link it with her own,     So that my stern resolve was almost gone.     'I cannot reach thee! whither dost thou fly?     My steps are faint - Come back, thou dearest one -     Return, ah me! return!' - The wind passed by     On which those accents died, faint, far, and lingeringly.     8.     Woe! Woe! that moonless midnight! - Want and Pest     Were horrible, but one more fell doth rear,     As in a hydra's swarming lair, its crest     Eminent among those victims - even the Fear     Of Hell: each girt by the hot atmosphere     Of his blind agony, like a scorpion stung     By his own rage upon his burning bier     Of circling coals of fire; but still there clung     One hope, like a keen sword on starting threads uphung:     9.     Not death - death was no more refuge or rest;     Not life - it was despair to be! - not sleep,     For fiends and chasms of fire had dispossessed     All natural dreams: to wake was not to weep,     But to gaze mad and pallid, at the leap     To which the Future, like a snaky scourge,     Or like some tyrant's eye, which aye doth keep     Its withering beam upon his slaves, did urge     Their steps; they heard the roar of Hell's sulphureous surge.     10.     Each of that multitude, alone, and lost     To sense of outward things, one hope yet knew;     As on a foam-girt crag some seaman tossed     Stares at the rising tide, or like the crew     Whilst now the ship is splitting through and through;     Each, if the tramp of a far steed was heard,     Started from sick despair, or if there flew     One murmur on the wind, or if some word     Which none can gather yet, the distant crowd has stirred.     11.     Why became cheeks, wan with the kiss of death,     Paler from hope? they had sustained despair.     Why watched those myriads with suspended breath     Sleepless a second night? they are not here,     The victims, and hour by hour, a vision drear,     Warm corpses fall upon the clay-cold dead;     And even in death their lips are wreathed with fear. -     The crowd is mute and moveless - overhead     Silent Arcturus shines - 'Ha! hear'st thou not the tread     12.     'Of rushing feet? laughter? the shout, the scream,     Of triumph not to be contained? See! hark!     They come, they come! give way!' Alas, ye deem     Falsely - 'tis but a crowd of maniacs stark     Driven, like a troop of spectres, through the dark,     From the choked well, whence a bright death-fire sprung,     A lurid earth-star, which dropped many a spark     From its blue train, and spreading widely, clung     To their wild hair, like mist the topmost pines among.     13.     And many, from the crowd collected there,     Joined that strange dance in fearful sympathies;     There was the silence of a long despair,     When the last echo of those terrible cries     Came from a distant street, like agonies     Stifled afar. - Before the Tyrant's throne     All night his aged Senate sate, their eyes     In stony expectation fixed; when one     Sudden before them stood, a Stranger and alone.     14.     Dark Priests and haughty Warriors gazed on him     With baffled wonder, for a hermit's vest     Concealed his face; but when he spake, his tone,     Ere yet the matter did their thoughts arrest, -     Earnest, benignant, calm, as from a breast     Void of all hate or terror - made them start;     For as with gentle accents he addressed     His speech to them, on each unwilling heart     Unusual awe did fall - a spirit-quelling dart.     15.     'Ye Princes of the Earth, ye sit aghast     Amid the ruin which yourselves have made,     Yes, Desolation heard your trumpet's blast,     And sprang from sleep! - dark Terror has obeyed     Your bidding - O, that I whom ye have made     Your foe, could set my dearest enemy free     From pain and fear! but evil casts a shade,     Which cannot pass so soon, and Hate must be     The nurse and parent still of an ill progeny.     16.     'Ye turn to Heaven for aid in your distress;     Alas, that ye, the mighty and the wise,     Who, if ye dared, might not aspire to less     Than ye conceive of power, should fear the lies     Which thou, and thou, didst frame for mysteries     To blind your slaves: - consider your own thought,     An empty and a cruel sacrifice     Ye now prepare, for a vain idol wrought     Out of the fears and hate which vain desires have brought.     17.     'Ye seek for happiness - alas, the day!     Ye find it not in luxury nor in gold,     Nor in the fame, nor in the envied sway     For which, O willing slaves to Custom old,     Severe taskmistress! ye your hearts have sold.     Ye seek for peace, and when ye die, to dream     No evil dreams: all mortal things are cold     And senseless then; if aught survive, I deem     It must be love and joy, for they immortal seem.     18.     'Fear not the future, weep not for the past.     Oh, could I win your ears to dare be now     Glorious, and great, and calm! that ye would cast     Into the dust those symbols of your woe,     Purple, and gold, and steel! that ye would go     Proclaiming to the nations whence ye came,     That Want, and Plague, and Fear, from slavery flow;     And that mankind is free, and that the shame     Of royalty and faith is lost in freedom's fame!     19.     'If thus, 'tis well - if not, I come to say     That Laon - ' while the Stranger spoke, among     The Council sudden tumult and affray     Arose, for many of those warriors young,     Had on his eloquent accents fed and hung     Like bees on mountain-flowers; they knew the truth,     And from their thrones in vindication sprung;     The men of faith and law then without ruth     Drew forth their secret steel, and stabbed each ardent youth.     20.     They stabbed them in the back and sneered - a slave     Who stood behind the throne, those corpses drew     Each to its bloody, dark, and secret grave;     And one more daring raised his steel anew     To pierce the Stranger. 'What hast thou to do     With me, poor wretch?' - Calm, solemn and severe,     That voice unstrung his sinews, and he threw     His dagger on the ground, and pale with fear,     Sate silently - his voice then did the Stranger rear.     21.     'It doth avail not that I weep for ye -     Ye cannot change, since ye are old and gray,     And ye have chosen your lot - your fame must be     A book of blood, whence in a milder day     Men shall learn truth, when ye are wrapped in clay:     Now ye shall triumph. I am Laon's friend,     And him to your revenge will I betray,     So ye concede one easy boon. Attend!     For now I speak of things which ye can apprehend.     22.     'There is a People mighty in its youth,     A land beyond the Oceans of the West,     Where, though with rudest rites, Freedom and Truth     Are worshipped; from a glorious Mother's breast,     Who, since high Athens fell, among the rest     Sate like the Queen of Nations, but in woe,     By inbred monsters outraged and oppressed,     Turns to her chainless child for succour now,     It draws the milk of Power in Wisdom's fullest flow.     23.     'That land is like an Eagle, whose young gaze     Feeds on the noontide beam, whose golden plume     Floats moveless on the storm, and in the blaze     Of sunrise gleams when Earth is wrapped in gloom;     An epitaph of glory for the tomb     Of murdered Europe may thy fame be made,     Great People! as the sands shalt thou become;     Thy growth is swift as morn, when night must fade;     The multitudinous Earth shall sleep beneath thy shade.     24.     'Yes, in the desert there is built a home     For Freedom. Genius is made strong to rear     The monuments of man beneath the dome     Of a new Heaven; myriads assemble there,     Whom the proud lords of man, in rage or fear,     Drive from their wasted homes: the boon I pray     Is this - that Cythna shall be convoyed there -     Nay, start not at the name - America!     And then to you this night Laon will I betray.     25.     'With me do what ye will. I am your foe!'     The light of such a joy as makes the stare     Of hungry snakes like living emeralds glow,     Shone in a hundred human eyes - 'Where, where     Is Laon? Haste! fly! drag him swiftly here!     We grant thy boon.' - 'I put no trust in ye,     Swear by the Power ye dread.' - 'We swear, we swear!'     The Stranger threw his vest back suddenly,     And smiled in gentle pride, and said, 'Lo! I am he!'