While thus he spake, Oneiza’s eye looks up
Where one towards her flew,
Satiate, for so it seemed, with sport and food.
The Bird flew over her,
And as he past above,
From his relaxing grasp a Locust fell....
It fell upon the Maiden’s robe,
And feebly there it stood, recovering slow.
The admiring girl surveyed
His out-spread sails of green.
His gauzy underwings,
One closely to the grass green body furled,
One ruffled in the fall, and half unclosed.
She viewed his jet-orbed eyes
His glossy gorget bright
Green-glittering in the sun;
His plumy pliant horns
That, nearer as she gazed,
Bent tremblingly before her breath.
She viewed his yellow-circled front
With lines mysterious veined;
“And knowest thou what is written here,
“My father?” said the Maid.
“Look Thalaba! perchance these lines
“Are in the letters of the Ring,
“Nature’s own language written here.”
The youth bent down, and suddenly
He started, and his heart
Sprung, and his cheek grew red,
For the mysterious[68] lines were legible,
When the sun shall be darkened at noon,
Son of Hodeirah, depart.
And Moath looked, and read the lines aloud;
The Locust shook his wings and fled,
And they were silent all.
Who then rejoiced but Thalaba?
Who then was troubled but the Arabian Maid?
And Moath sad of heart,
Tho’ with a grief supprest, beheld the youth
Sharpen his arrows now,
And now new-plume their shafts,
Now to beguile impatient hope
Feel every sharpened point.
“Why is that anxious look,” Oneiza cried,
“Still upwards cast at noon?
“Is Thalaba aweary of our tent?”
“I would be gone,” the youth replied,
“That I might do my task,
“And full of glory to the tent return
“Whence I should part no more.”
But on the noontide sun,
As anxious and as oft Oneiza’s eye
Was upward glanced in fear.
And now as Thalaba replied, her cheek
Lost its fresh and lively hue,
For in the Sun’s bright edge
She saw, or thought she saw, a little speck.
The sage Astronomer
Who with the love of science full
Trembled that day at every passing cloud,
He had not seen it, ’twas a speck so small.
Alas! Oneiza sees the spot increase!
And lo! the ready Youth
Over his shoulder the full quiver slings
And grasps the slackened bow.
It spreads, and spreads, and now
Has shaddowed half the Sun,
Whose crescent-pointed horns
Now momently decrease.
The day grows dark, the Birds retire to rest;
Forth from her shadowy haunt
Flies the large-headed[69] Screamer of the night.
Far off the affrighted African,
Deeming his God deceased,
Falls on his knees in prayer,
And trembles as he sees
The fierce Hyena’s eyes
Glare in the darkness of that dreadful noon.
Then Thalaba exclaimed, “Farewell,
“My father! my Oneiza!” the Old Man
Felt his throat swell with grief.
“Where wilt thou go my Child?” he cried,
“Wilt thou not wait a sign
“To point thy destined way?”
“God will conduct me!” said the noble youth,
He said and from the Tent
In the depth of the darkness departed.
They heard his parting steps,
The quiver rattling as he past away.