Poems of James Clarence Mangan (Many hitherto uncollected): Centenary edition: Edited, with preface and notes by D. J. O'Donoghue: Introduction by John Mitchel |
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THE ANGEL OF DEATH.
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 | Poems of James Clarence Mangan |  |
THE ANGEL OF DEATH.
A Persian Legend.
I
Great Zuleimaun was King of Kings.He ruled o'er Deevs and men.
For him had Allah's hand updrawn
The veil that shrouds all mystic things.
On Earth shall reign agen
No King like Zuleimaun!
II
He sate within his Council-roomOne morn in Summer-time,
And held high converse with Azreel,
The Messenger of Death and Doom,
On Fate, and Good, and Crime,
And future woe and weal:
213
III
When, slowly oped the chamber-door,And Meerza Ibrahim,
Vezeer, walked in, with tottering pace.
The old man's locks showed scant and hoar;
His eyes were very dim,
And Fear was on his face.
IV
“O King!” he spake, “I dreamed last nightA dream. . . . But who is here?—
Ha!—'tis Azreel that blasts mine eyes!”—
The Angel vanished out of sight,
First giving the Vezeer
A look of deep surprise.
V
“For me!—for me! He comes for me!”The shuddering Meerza cried.
“Oh, Master! grant me, I beseech,
Thy fleetest barb, that I may flee
Into the Desert wide,
Beyond his wrath and reach!”—
VI
“Friend!” spake the Monarch, “dream not thouThat clay may war with Fate!
Thou canst not baulk the Almighty Will.
214
His Life, his Love, his Hate,
His endless Bliss or Ill!”—
VII
“True!” cried the Meerza, “all too true,O King, is that thou sayest,
Yet grant me still the boon I crave!”—
“'Tis thine!” said Zuleimaun. “But who
Shall flee from Doom? Thou mayest
Be riding to thy grave!”
VIII
Began the Meerza then his flight,Borne on his coal-black barb,
O'er mount, and mead, and marish dank.
Spectators marvelled at the sight,
For, from his jewelled garb,
All guessed his princely rank.
IX
And soon as Evening's first faint starRose on the pallid air,
And day was lost in Twilight's gloom,
215
His face to earth, in prayer,
Anear an open tomb!
X
There, prostrate, long time doth he kneel,Amid the swarthy sands;
Till glancing up all desolate,
Lo! sight of sights!—once more Azreel!
The Dark-winged Angel stands
Beside the tomb's grey gate!
XI
“And must it be?” the Meerza cries.“Then Allah's will be done!
Yet say, before I close my race,
Why spake such wonder from thine eyes,
This morn, O Dreaded One,
When first thou sawest my face?”
XII
The Angel raised his looks to Heaven.“O, most Mysterious Lord!”
He spake, “How hidden be thy ways!
O, for the marvel of this even,
Let Earth, with one accord,
Arise and hymn Thy praise!”
XIII
Then, turning to that old man lone,“Know, Ibrahim,” he said,
“That God foreknew all this as near!
He knew that thou, ere moonlight shone,
Shouldst rest among the Dead,
And bade me wait thee here!
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XIV
“So when, this morn, I met thee inThy Sovereign's Council-room,
I asked myself or why, or how,
Thou couldst have nerve or will to win
Thy way to this far tomb,
And hence my wondering brow.
XV
“Enough! Thus end all earthly dreamsOf Riches and Renown!”—
. . . His hand just touched his victim's face,
And in an hour the moon's blue beams
Were glancing coldly down
On Ibrahim's burial-place.
| Poems of James Clarence Mangan | |