The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly :: :: University of Virginia Library

I see a tempest in the sky,
The clouds are rushing wild and nigh!
'T is dark, and darker still! The moon
Is wan, is fiery red, is gone.
Along the horizon's edge a ring
Of fearful light hangs wavering;
Yet all beneath, around, is still,
Enchanted all, lake, vale, and hill.
Hark to the thunder-peal! 't is past,
Scarce echoing on the upward blast.
Things in that tossing sky have birth
This hour, that bear no stain of earth.
The storm descends again! the peal,
The lightning's hiss, the whirlwind's swell,
At once come deepening on the ear.
The cloud is now an amber sphere,

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That, down a cataract of light,
Shoots from the summit of the night;
And glorious shapes, along its verge,
Like meteors flash, ascend, immerge.

The broad black heaven is awed and calm;
The earth sends up its breath of balm;
The thunder crowns the mountain's brow;
The lake's long billow sinks below;
All slumbering, far as eye can gaze,
In sapphire; one blue, mystic blaze!
They come! whence swept that sound so near,
So sweet, it pains the mortal ear?
A sound that on the spirit flings
A spell to open all its springs.
That sound thou 'lt hear no more, till rise
Thine own white wings in Paradise.
List to the song the Genii pour,
As from yon orb of clouds they soar,
Chaunting alternate, height o'er height,
Halo on halo, diamond bright,

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The strain that told from star to star,
They brought the talisman of war;
The Prophet's blazing scimitar!

GENIE.
Allah il Allah! high in heaven,
Might to the mightiest be given!
Mohammed, prophet, prince, be thine
On earth Dominion's master-sign.
On thy bold brow no jewell'd band;
No sceptre in thy red right hand;
Forth, and fulfil thy destiny!
The scimitar descends for thee!

CHORUS.
Hail, holy scimitar! thy steel
Is lightning's flash and thunder's peal!

GENIE.
No mortal force, no earthly flame,
Woke in the mine its mighty frame:

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Its mine was in the tempest's gloom,
Its forge was in the thunder's womb,
To give its hue the eclipsing moon
In brief and bloody splendour shone,
The comet, rushing from its steep,
Traced through the heaven the steel's broad sweep.

CHORUS.
Prince of the starry diadem,
Where found its blade the burning gleam?

GENIE.
'Twas edged upon the living stone
That lights the tomb of Solomon;
Then, rising, temper'd in the wave,
That floats through Mecca's holy cave;
Above, upon its hilt, were graven
The potent characters of heaven;
Then on the footstep of the throne
'Twas laid, it blazed, the charm was done!

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CHORUS.
Now, woe to helm, and woe to shield,
That meets its rushing o'er the field.
Like dust before its edge shall fail
The temper'd sword, the solid mail;
Till, like a star, its glories swell
In terrors on the Infidel;
A sun, foredoom'd to pour its rays
Till earth is burning in its blaze!