It was a Living Image, by the art
Of magic hands of flesh and bones composed,
And human blood thro’ veins and arteries
That flowed with vital action. In the shape
Of Eblis it was made,
Its stature such and such its strength
As when among the Sons of God
Pre-eminent, he raised his radiant head,
Prince of the Morning. On his brow
A coronet of meteor flames,
Flowing in points of light.
Self-poised in air before him,
Hung the Round Altar, rolling like the World
On its diurnal axis, like the World
Checquered with sea and shore,
The work of Demon art.
For where the sceptre in the Idol’s hand
Touched the Round Altar, in its answering realm
Earth felt the stroke, and Ocean rose in storms,
And ruining Cities shaken from their seat
Crushed all their habitants.
His other arm was raised, and its spread palm
Up-bore the ocean-weight
Whose naked waters arched the sanctuary,
Sole prop and pillar he.
Fallen on the ground around his feet
The Sorcerers lay. Mohareb’s quivering arms
Clung to the Idol’s knees;
The Idol’s face was pale
And calm in terror he beheld
The approach of the Destroyer.
Sure of his stroke, and therefore in pursuit
Following, nor blind, nor hasty on his foe,
Moved the Destroyer. Okba met his way,
Of all that brotherhood
He only fearless, miserable man,
The one that had no hope.
“On me, on me,” the childless Sorcerer cried,
“Let fall the weapon! I am he who stole
“Upon the midnight of thy Father’s tent,
“This is the hand that pierced Hodeirah’s heart,
“That felt thy brethren’s and thy sister’s blood
“Gush round the dagger-hilt. Let fall on me
“The fated sword! the vengeance hour is come!
“Destroyer, do thy work!”
Nor wile, nor weapon, had the desperate wretch,
He spread his bosom to the stroke.
“Old man, I strike thee not!” said Thalaba,
“The evil thou hast done to me and mine
“Brought its own bitter punishment.
“For thy dear Daughter’s sake I pardon thee,
“As I do hope Heaven’s pardon. For her sake
“Repent while time is yet! thou hast my prayers
“To aid thee; thou poor sinner, cast thyself
“Upon the goodness of offended God!
“I speak in Laila’s name, and what if now
“Thou canst not think to join in Paradise
“Her spotless Spirit,... hath not Allah made
“Al-Araf[176] in his wisdom? where the sight
“Of Heaven shall kindle in the penitent
“The strong and purifying fire of hope,
“Till at the day of judgement he shall see
“The Mercy-Gates unfold.”
The astonished man stood gazing as he spake,
At length his heart was softened, and the tears
Gushed, and he sobbed aloud.
Then suddenly was heard
The all-beholding Prophet’s aweful voice,
“Thou hast done well, my Servant!
“Ask and receive thy reward!”
A deep and aweful joy
Seemed to distend the heart of Thalaba;
With arms in reverence crost upon his breast,
Upseeking eyes suffused with transport-tears
He answered to the Voice, “Prophet of God,
“Holy, and good, and bountiful!
“One only earthly wish have I, to work
“Thy will, and thy protection grants me that.
“Look on this Sorcerer! heavy are his crimes,
“But infinite is mercy! if thy servant
“Have now found favour in the sight of God,
“Let him be touched with penitence, and save
“His soul from utter death.”
“The groans of penitence,” replied the Voice
“Never arise unheard!
“But for thyself prefer the prayer,
“The Treasure-house of Heaven
“Is open to thy will.”
“Prophet of God!” then answered Thalaba,
“I am alone on earth.
“Thou knowest the secret wishes of my heart!
“Do with me as thou wilt! thy will is best.”
There issued forth no Voice to answer him,
But lo! Hodeirah’s Spirit comes to see
His vengeance, and beside him, a pure form
Of roseate light, the Angel mother hangs.
“My Child, my dear, my glorious, blessed Child,
“My promise is performed ... fufil thy work!”
Thalaba knew that his death-hour was come,
And on he leapt, and springing up,
Into the Idol’s heart
Hilt-deep he drove the Sword.
The Ocean-Vault fell in, and all were crushed.
In the same moment at the gate
Of Paradise, Oneiza’s Houri-form
Welcomed her Husband to eternal bliss.