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1819.* -----

XII. CHULD NAME.

BOOK OF PARADISE.

THE PRIVILEGED MEN.

AFTER THE BATTLE OF BADE, BENEATH THE CANOPY OF HEAVEN.

[This battle was fought in the second year of the Hegira (A.A. 623), between the followers of Mahomet, who numbered three hundred and thirteen, possessing two horses and seventy camels, and the 'idolaters,' or Meccans, whose forces amounted to nine hundred and fifty, including two hundred cavalry. The victory remained with Mahomet, who lost fourteen men, while seventy of the enemy were slain. A great accession of strength ensued in consequence to the Prophet, who pretended that miracles were wrought in his behalf in the battle, God having sent angels to fight on his side, and having also made his army to appear larger to the enemy than it really was.--See the Koran, chapter viii., and ABULFEDA'S Life of Mahomet.]

MAHOMET (Speaks).

LET the foeman sorrow o'er his dead,

Ne'er will they return again to light; O'er our brethren let no tear be shed,

For they dwell above yon spheres so bright.

All the seven planets open throw

All their metal doors with mighty shock, And the forms of those we loved below

At the gates of Eden boldly knock.

There they find, with bliss ne'er dream'd before,

Glories that my flight first show'd to eye, When the wondrous steed my person bore

In one second through the realms on high.

Wisdom's trees, in cypress-order growing,

High uphold the golden apples sweet; Trees of life, their spreading shadows throwing,

Shade each blossoming plant, each flow'ry seat.

Now a balmy zephyr from the East

Brings the heavenly maidens to thy view; With the eye thou now dost taste the feast,

Soon the sight pervades thee through and through.

There they stand, to ask thee thy career:

Mighty plans? or dangerous bloody rout? Thou'rt a hero, know they,--for Thourt here,

What a hero?--This they'll fathom out.

By thy wounds soon clearly this is shown,

Wounds that write thy fame's undying story; Wounds the true believer mark alone,

When have perish'd joy and earthly glory.

To chiosks and arbors thou art brought,

Fill'd with checkered marble columns bright; To the noble grape-juice, solace-fraught,

They the guest with kindly sips invite.

Youth! Thou'rt welcome more than e'er was youth

All alike are radiant and serene; When thou tak'st one to thine heart with truth,

Of thy band she'll be the friend and queen.

So prepare thee for this place of rest,

Never can it now be changed again; Maids like these will ever make thee blest,

Wines like these will never harm thy brain.

1819. -----

THE FAVOURED BEASTS.

Or beasts there have been chosen four

To come to Paradise, And there with saints for evermore

They dwell in happy wise.

Amongst them all the Ass stands first;

He comes with joyous stride, For to the Prophet-City erst

Did Jesus on him ride.

Half timid next a Wolf doth creep,

To whom Mahomet spake "Spoil not the poor man of his sheep,

The rich man's thou mayst take."

And then the brave and faithful Hound,

Who by his master kept, And slept with him the slumbers sound

The seven sleepers slept.

Abuherrira's Cat, too, here,

Purrs round his master blest, For holy must the beast appear

The Prophet hath caress'd.

1815. -----

THE SEVEN SLEEPERS.

Six among the courtiers favour'd Fly before the Caesar's fury, Who would as a god be worshipp'd, Though in truth no god appearing, For a fly prevents him ever From enjoying food at table. Though with fans his servants scare it, They the fly can never banish. It torments him, stings, and troubles, And the festal board perplexes, Then returning like the herald Of the olden crafty Fly-God. "What!"--the striplings say together-- "Shall a fly a god embarrass?

Shall a god drink, eat at table, Like us mortals? No, the Only, Who the sun and moon created, And the glowing stars arch'd o'er us, He is God,--we'll fly!"--The gentle, Lightly shod, and dainty striplings Did a shepherd meet, and hide them, With himself, within a cavern.

And the sheep-dog will not leave them,-- Scared away, his foot all-mangled, To his master still he presses, And he joins the hidden party, Joins the favorites of slumber.

And the prince, whom they had fled from, Fondly-furious, thinks of vengeance, And, discarding sword and fire, Has them walled-up in the cavern, Walled-up fast with bricks and mortar.

But the others slumber ever, And the Angel, their protector, Gives before God's throne this notice "To the right and left alternate Have I ever cared to turn them, That their fair and youthful members Be not by the mould-damp injured; Clefts within the rocks I open'd, That the sun may, rising, setting, Keep their cheeks in youthful freshness." So they lie there, bless'd by Heaven. And, with forepaws sound and scatheless, Sleeps the dog in gentle slumber.

Years come round, and years fly onward, And the youths at length awaken, And the wall, which now had moldered, From its very age has fallen. And Jamblika says,--whose beauty Far exceedeth all the others,-- When the fearful shepherd lingers:-- "I will run, and food procure you, Life and piece of gold I'll wager!"-- Ephebus had many a year now Own'd the teaching of the Prophet Jesus (Peace be with the Good One!)

And he ran, and at the gateway Were the warders and the others. Yet he to the nearest baker's, Seeking bread, went swiftly onwards.-- "Rogue!" thus cried the baker--"hast thou, Youth, a treasure, then, discover'd? Give me,--for the gold betrays thee,-- Give me half, to keep thy secret!"--

And they quarrel.--To the monarch Comes the matter; and the monarch Fain would halve it, like the baker.

Now the miracle is proven Slowly by a hundred tokens. He can e'en his right establish To the palace he erected, For a pillar, when pierced open.

Leads to wealth he said 'twould lead to. Soon are gather'd there whole races, Their relationship to show him. And as great-grandfather, nobly Stands Jamblika's youthful figure.

As of ancestors, he hears them, Speaking of his son and grandsons. His great-grandsons stand around him, Like a race of valiant mortals, Him to honour,--him, the youngest. And one token on another Rises up, the proof completing; The identity is proven Of himself, and of his comrades.

Now returns he to the cavern, With him go both king and people.-- Neither to the king nor people E'er returns that chosen mortal; For the Seven, who for ages-- Eight was, with the dog, their number-- Had from all the world been sunder'd, Gabriel's mysterious power, To the will of God obedient, Hath to Paradise conducted,-- And the cave was closed for ever.

1814-15. -----

SONGS FROM VARIOUS PLAYS, ETC

FROM FAUST.

I. DEDICATION.

YE shadowy forms, again ye're drawing near,

So wont of yore to meet my troubled gaze! Were it in vain to seek to keep you here?

Loves still my heart that dream of olden days? Oh, come then! and in pristine force appear,

Parting the vapor mist that round me plays! My bosom finds its youthful strength again, Feeling the magic breeze that marks your train.

Ye bring the forms of happy days of yore,

And many a shadow loved attends you too; Like some old lay, whose dream was well nigh o'er,

First-love appears again, and friendship true; Upon life's labyrinthine path once more

Is heard the sigh, and grief revives anew; The friends are told, who, in their hour of pride, Deceived by fortune, vanish'd from my side.

No longer do they hear my plaintive song,

The souls to whom I sang in life's young day; Scatter'd for ever now the friendly throng,

And mute, alas! each sweet responsive lay. My strains but to the careless crowd belong,

Their smiles but sorrow to my heart convey; And all who heard my numbers erst with gladness, If living yet, roam o'er the earth in sadness.

Long buried yearnings in my breast arise,

Yon calm and solemn spirit-realm to gain; Like the AEONIAN harp's sweet melodies,

My murmuring song breathes forth its changeful strain. A trembling seizes me, tears fill mine eyes,

And softer grows my rugged heart amain. All I possess far distant seems to be, The vanish'd only seems reality.

II. PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN.

THE ARCHANGELS' SONG.

RAPHAEL.

THE sun still chaunts, as in old time,

With brother-spheres in choral song, And with his thunder-march sublime

Moves his predestined course along. Strength find the angels in his sight,

Though he by none may fathomed be; Still glorious is each work of might

As when first form'd in majesty.

GABRIEL.

And swift and swift, in wondrous guise,

Revolves the earth in splendour bright, The radiant hues of Paradise

Alternating with deepest night. From out the gulf against the rock,

In spreading billows foams the ocean,-- And cliff and sea with mighty shock,

The spheres whirl round in endless motion.

MICHAEL.

And storms in emulation growl

From land to sea, from sea to land, And fashion, as they wildly howl,

A circling, wonder-working band. Destructive flames in mad career

Precede Thy thunders on their way; Yet, Lord, Thy messengers revere

The soft mutations of Thy day.

THE THREE.

Strength find the angels in Thy sight,

Though none may hope to fathom Thee; Still glorious are Thy works of might,

As when first form'd in majesty.

III. CHORUS OF ANGELS.

CHRIST is arisen!

Mortal, all hail! Thou, of Earth's prison

Dreary and frail, Bursting the veil,

Proudly hast risen!

CHORUS OF WOMEN.

Rich spices and myrrh,

To embalm Him we brought; His corpse to inter

His true followers sought. In pure cerements shrin'd,

'Twas placed in the bier But, alas! we now find

That Christ is not here.

CHORUS OF ANGELS.

Christ is arisen!

Speechless His love. Who to Earth's prison

Came from above, Trials to prove.

Now is He risen!

CHORUS OF YOUTHS.

Death's gloomy portal

Now hath He rended,-- Living, immortal,

Heavenward ascended; Freed from His anguish,

Sees He God's throne; We still must languish,

Earthbound, alone. Now that He's reft us,

Heart-sad we pine; Why hast Thou left us,

Master divine?

CHORUS OF ANGELS.

Christ is arisen,

Death hath He slain;

Burst ye your prison,

Rend ye each chain!

Songs of praise lead ye,--

Love to show, heed ye,--

Hungry ones feed ye,--

Preaching, on speed ye,--

Coming joys plead ye,-- Then is the Master near, Then is He here!

IV. CHORUS OF SPIRITS.

VANISH, dark clouds on high,

Offspring of night! Let a more radiant beam Through the blue ether gleam,

Charming the sight! Would the dark clouds on high

Melt into air! Stars glimmer tenderly,

Planets more fair

Shed their soft light. Spirits of heav'nly birth, Fairer than sons of earth, Quivering emotions true

Hover above; Yearning affections, too,

In their train move. See how the spirit-band, By the soft breezes fann'd, Covers the smiling land,-- Covers the leafy grove, Where happy lovers rove, Deep in a dream of love, True love that never dies! Bowers on bowers rise,

Soft tendrils twine; While from the press escapes, Born of the juicy grapes,

Foaming, the wine; And as the current flows O'er the bright stones it goes,-- Leaving the hilly lands

Far, far behind,-- Into a sea expands,

Loving to wind Round the green mountain's base; And

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