University of Virginia Library

Ailona's words were ended, when the Queen,
After short pause replied: “Thus much is known
“Of Judah and his kindred tribes—if time,
“Whose weight hath crushed so many thoughts between,
“Corrupt not knowledge more remote—alone,
“Unsocial midst earth's sovereignties—sublime,
“Not loved, they stood in solitary pride
“Severe, with envied greatness. Some declare
“That one impartial Father ruled at first
“The worlds he made; till weaker gods defied
“Him, though their king—poisoning this nether air
“Once pure, with malice; till the slakeless thirst
“Of power or wisdom tempted to their side
“Apostate man ungrateful—who, in turn,
“Forsaking was forsaken. Then the Sun
“Became a prey usurped by envious Bel,
“The Moon by Benoth; while the Lights which burn
“With nearer brightness than their fellows, run
“Each as its Angel guides it. Earth and Hell,
“The realms of Life and Death, are free to all,
“For all are worshipped in the fanes of men,
“O'er whom they watch with jealous sovereignty,
“Answering by oracles. To these we call,
“Ill-succoured, if we need their help, and when
“We grieve or fear: but He whose rest on high
“Was threatened by his servants, leaves mankind
“Midst snares and terrors to their chosen guides
“That rain upon our heads dissension, hate,
“Envy of others' good, disease in heart and mind,
“Remorse, and many-featured Death. He hides
“His face from both, serene in cloudy state,
“Creating happier natures. Stars which seem
“Less bright than ours to us, are suns as large
“As that which lights this swarming earth, and beam
“On soils with warmth as fruitful. Men descry
“Them, or his glorious ministers, whose charge
“They are, like dust upon the tranquil skies,
“Spotting with fire night's blue infinity.
“Our world hath lost its parent God—but one
“Stood firm, they say, of all its families:
“This he regarded with paternal eyes,
“Making just laws. Bel twice hath stopped the sun,
“And once turned back before him—once his hand
“Was cast beneath the chariot flames outspread,
“And interposed its shadow o'er the land
“From Noph to Pathros, ere his people fled,
“At mid-day darkening Egypt. Till at last
“His own too changed him for less scrupulous lords
“And service suited to their lusts. Then fell
“Dominion, as a dream their glory past,
“Wisdom decayed, before Chaldæan swords
“They stooped, and left the vacant world to Bel,
“Whose prey they are. Nor yet is light withdrawn
“From all, nor ever doth his spirit flee
“The heart it once hath sanctified: a ray
“Unquenched endures—his prophets still can warm
“When fear o'ershadows mightiest kings. We see
“One such at least, whom prosperous hours may scorn,
“But shame and pride cannot forget.

“To-day
“I was, as I have been of old—alone
“In wealth, supreme in majesty, in power
“Above all other women: never yet
“Has earth beheld but one upon its throne
“So high, nor one so happy. Now mine hour
“Declines toward eve and darkness—ere it set
“Make thou a covenant with me: let us live
“As child and mother should—thy leaf shall thrive,
“While mine dries up and withers. Dost thou fear?
“We use no sorceries—rise, beloved and blest!
“Content, and in good time, I yield my place
“To thee soon mightier—age inclines to rest;
“And she hath called me hence who brought me here.
“What needs the drop which sparkles on thy face
“To soothe or charm me? less than such a tear
“May perfect easily, what I with pain
“Have wrought so far—leavening Belshazzar's pride,
“And henceforth softening cruelty. His heart
“Has thoughts which turn toward pity; but in vain,
“While Haza beckons mischief at his side,
“Beari sows her jealousies apart,
“And many stir the furnace-flames again
“Whose heat hath scorched so many. Both queen and bride,
“Too high for these to reach thy state—repress
“Contentious vanity. Belshazzar hates
“The thorns which fret his patience, when he wakes
“From dreams of wrath to grief and soberness,
“Yet still endures. Stand thou by mercy's gates,
“And fill, with better heed, the place which age forsakes,
“For blessed are they whose lot it is to bless!

“‘Chaldæa sends the virgin for her crown’—
“Dost only half believe this prophetess?
“For me—had thunders witnessed to her voice,
“Repeating word by word, I yet should trust
“No more than I do now. The seed was sown,
“We know not whence—we know not if her choice
“Preferred the plant, or mightier fate have thrust
“A forced adoption on reluctant will;
“But judge thou whether that, whate'er it be,
“Which makes all hateful opposites accord,
“All nature's covering in one web—and still
“Entwining prescience with necessity,
“Most strongly when most strained—have not some cord
“Stretched from this Sorceress to ourselves, and tied
“'Twixt her and us. Now mark.

“Above the ford
“Of Chaboras dwelt I, at an age like thine,
“Not far from stormy Orchoe. Such is pride—
“Our valley seemed a kingdom, and our home
“A royal habitation; yet the line
“Required to mete Bel's Temple whence we come,
“Would compass, with superfluous length beside,
“Fane, palace, fortress, city. Poor were we,
“—Too weak, it seemed, for jealousies—so just
“That none could hate us—and our eyes might see
“Their little empire to its utmost bound,
“Nor need deputed watchfulness. But lust
“Looks farther than to find offence. At night
“I slept as they are used who know not ill:
“So ponderous were my slumbers, that the sound
“Of feet which trampled overhead, and shook
“The couch beneath me, waked me not. A light
“Fell on mine eyelids, undiscerning still
“The truth from dreams. At length one near me spoke,
“A heavier footstep faltered on the sill—
“It was my father's voice—‘We wake too late!
“‘I cannot help thee now—nor force nor flight
“‘Avails—the Spoiler rages in the gate—
“‘Where shouldst thou flee, my child?’ His bloody look
“I saw, and when he reeled, I heard his groan—
“But through the falling rafters, from his side,
“They forced who never pitied. Court and street
“Were filled with fire, where dreadful faces shone
“In that broad light past human. Avarice tried
“To gather rapine midst the smoke and heat
“Itself had raised, and thirst of blood pursued
“Through flames, from roof to roof, its fugitives.
“With flakes on high our ancient temples burn.
“At length the robber seeks his solitude—
“He hastes the first away who fairest thrives.
“Beyond the gate I heard my mother's cries—
“Aloud she called that never might return.
“Who else was spared I knew not—all night long
“We travelled, and from homes once blessed behind
“We saw the red sparks mingling with the skies.
“Then names were whispered round us, and the slain
“Were called by those who wept! Amidst the throng
“Some met past hope—short happiness! to find
“The arms which should embrace them fast, and hear
“Impatient sufferance struggle with its chain.
“On camels, late their own, a part were bound—
“Gray-headed captives seated midst the spoils
“Themselves had furnished. Cruel that night of fear!
“More miserable still the dawn which found
“No succour while it lit our shame, and showed
“Whose prey we were!

“The scattered remnant toils
“Through vales and mountains, till we see once more
“—Marked by its smoke—our desolate abode:
“River and misty plain behind us steaming—
“A desert spreads its pale expanse before:
“Immeasurable wastes—nor, whence we stand,
“Remote appear their earlier confines gleaming—
“But height deludes the unpractised eye, and still
“'Twixt bare or tufted crags on either hand,
“The rough descent slopes tortuously along—
“In shade at first, but neither fount nor rill
“We find, nor verdant bank for rest, but clifts
“Where never rings the amorous shepherd's song,
“Herds never low, unless by rapine driven
“Precipitous as now, the ox uplifts,
“His mouth and fills the vallies with complaint.
“Narrow the pass, as if through mountains riven,
“By which we poured our noisy multitude—
“Beasts burdened, horsemen armed, and captives faint,
“Urged on with clamorous haste though none pursued.

“The sun was high before we reached that plain,
“And smote upon our heads direct—all day
“Toiling through dusty wastes, we rested not.
“Some had but part to travel with us—pain
“Or misery made them mad—beneath the ray
“On those bright sands insufferably hot,
“ 'Twixt noon and eve, they strewed the sultry track
“Speechless, with froth-encumbered lips, at first;
“Then ceased in death. I raised mine eyes in vain—
“No respite saw they: from the camel's back
“On which I sat, made desperate now by thirst,
“I asked to stop and perish. Near me rode
“—Triumphant in his spoils and victories,
“Proud of the steed which bore him, loud with mirth,
“Tho' youthful, cruel—one whose ill thoughts showed
“Their ever-changing baseness from his eyes—
“The Son of our Destroyer. ‘Maid, the earth
“‘Here is accursed,’ he said, ‘but this it gives—
“‘To cool thy lips let this awhile suffice—
“‘The sun, before he sets, shall see thee drink
“‘Where water will be found for all—our wives,
“‘And then ourselves.’ I feel my spirit shrink
“To own that of the fruit he reached I ate,
“So strong was misery over pride—but still
“The desert wilderness around us spread;
“The beast reeled wearily on which I sat;
“Bel's rayless disk descended broad and red,
“When lo! at length a little isle-like hill
“Scarce fringed the else smooth horizon with its trees—
“Some few low rocks and verdant palms. The cry,
“Or scented stream, awakened what remained
“Of strength once more, and braced the camel's knees
“To toil with quickened step thus far. We found
“A fount of living water there—we drained,
“Impatient that they flowed so scantily,
“Both source and stream: while near us, on the ground,
“Shadowed by rocks, with mantle o'er her face,
“Lay one who seemed to sleep—'twas heavily,
“For all our cries disturbed her not. Unbound,
“A dromedary rested at the place,
“Of that swift kind which men prefer to gold,
“And none may buy.

“The youthful Spoiler said:
“‘These too Adrammalech hath sent—behold,
“‘We both have gained since yesterday a Bride!
“‘The fairest portion, Father, to the old—
“‘Mine is the beast alone, take thou the maid!’
“Thus ended sportive, and in haste drew near,
“Toward her who yet lay slumbering.—‘Up!’ he cried;
“‘Who sleeps so deeply needs to sleep the less—
“‘Woman, awake! we too must rest us here:
“‘It is thy turn to watch the wilderness.’
“Then snatched the covering of her face aside
“Like one indeed surprised, yet not with fear,
“From earth upsprung this scowling Prophetess—
“Of stature higher than women by the head;
“Her countenance then had beauty—such in kind
“As that, which gilding shapes we needs must dread,
“Augments abhorrence—though their burnished scales
“Are brighter than the sardine stone, and wind
“With hues of fire before the astonished eye
“In reptile flexures swift and gracefully.

“At once applause is hushed, and laughter fails—
“The captive that but now had prayed to die;
“And he, the tyrant, that had chained him, shake—
“Both shrink alike—though neither yet knows why—
“All gaze, and reel confounded from her side.
“She smiled upon the youth, while thus she spake:
“‘What else? who called me?—Yea the waste is wide—
“‘Thy slave will watch—behold me here awake!’
“Scorn yet maintained its even gait with pride,
“And in the threatenings of that dreadful face
“Derision deigned to mock what hate defied.
“The panther thus can fondle with her prey—
“Turn round as if for flight—resume the chase—
“Make terror sport—protract despair with play—
“Then let rage loose. ‘Go rest,’ she added, ‘now:
“‘Lie down to longer slumbers in my place.’
“What followed next, I heard not—on his brow
“She breathed, and swifter than the sulphurous East,
“From whose hot wings in hazy dimness blow
“The swarms suffused, which feed and live on death—
“O'er summer flower a blast, ablight o'er man and beast—
“Smote deep the scalding vapour of her breath.
“I saw that scorner stoop before her spell,
“Even toward his father's feet: he would have prayed
“For help or mercy, but the curse too well
“Its charge fulfilled—too quick her lips obeyed—
“Convulsed, deformed, distorted, swoln, decayed,
“A corpse abhorred—he blackened while he fell.

“Some reined the unwilling steeds to fly—some fled—
“Part looked bewildered round them for the spear:
“The boldest knew not what he did or said—
“Whether to smite, to shun, to threat, or fear.
“While all recoiled beside, the heirless Sire
“Approached, but yet unsteadily—so near
“Did vengeance poise its trembling scale with dread;
“And terror halve the dubious thoughts of ire:
“One hand was raised to strike—one held outspread
“Was lowered in supplication—‘Woman, hear!
“‘We too can slay—though not, as thou, with fire;
“‘Have pity on him yet—O! spare to harm the dead!’

“She stooped, and in the hollow palm uptook
“Of water from that fountain—where it laves
“The desert flowers, soon spent. More dreadful now,
“In louder wrath her voice—unmixed the look
“Of hate—her eye-balls and her cruel brow
“Were red with fiercer threatenings. ‘Peace, ye slaves!
“‘I have been merciful! who lifts his eye,
“‘Fixed by my curse for ever where ye tread,
“‘Shall think them happy that may hide in graves,
“‘Or envy rest like his, on such a bed;
“‘And pray for grace which thus permits to die!’

“Their hands let fall their weapons; toward the dust
“Their faces bowed they—on the ground they rolled
“As if its sands might shelter them: they cried
“In turns, for peace and pity, to her. ‘Just
“‘Art thou—blood's winged inquisitor! behold!
“‘We meet the faces of their gods again!
“‘Let this suffice—he stooped, he fell, he died;
“‘Before thy feet he perished! take our gold—
“‘Accept, O Queen, an offering for the slain!’
“She cast the water from her hand, and came
“Straight where I stood confounded; yet till then
“Her eyes had not been turned that way—by name,
“Beckoning, she summoned me as one known long:
“Less fearful woke I midst the cries of men
“Last night, to gaze at once upon the dead,
“Dragged from my father's house—than while her tongue
“Pronounced it, and that outstretched palm undried
“Lay chill upon my neck, as thus she said:
“‘His part I take for mine—keep what ye will beside.’

“Ill things, when near to ill, may seem the best;
“Deserts become our refuge; they whose sword
“Had made us destitute, like friends appeared,
“All other human shapes were less abhorr'd:
“But those to whom I clung drew back the vest,
“And struggled to escape me as defiled;
“Dread mastered love—the eyes which pitied feared
“And turned away—less potent than her word,
“Nature renounced her rights, and from the breast
“On which life's dream began, a mother loosed her child.

“If kings prepare for war by sacrifice
“And Moloch feasts; at first, with wondering ears
“The infant listens to their cymbals loud,
“Suspense in studious awe and meek surprise:
“While every face is turned toward where he stands,
“His own is gazing on his nurse's tears—
“High blaze the midnight fires, the dancing crowd
“O'er reddened garlands shake their gilded wands—
“But thoughts perplexed by dubious terrors rise,
“For still no yearling bleats, no kid appears;
“At length the priest draws near with lifted hands,
“Again more loudly peal those horns and drums,
“The altar's flames are raging toward the skies—
“With hands outstretched the cruel claimant comes!
“Shrill heard through all ascend the struggler's cries—
“His little heart is bursting ere he dies.

“‘Fool! wouldst thou live a slave with these? Wouldst pine
“‘Midst caverns of the wilderness, and tread
“‘Its sands, in thirst, for ever? Shall the dust
“‘Suffice for drink? Will thorns produce thee wine?
“‘Canst thou devour the desert-stones for bread?
“‘—Be still, and hear me speak—are these thy trust?
“‘Is it so hard to quit the hands which shed
“‘Thy father's and thy brother's blood—for mine?
“‘What if I smote the Spoiler in his lust?
“‘Doth this afflict thee? Shall the blessed repine?
“‘Sit down by me.’ So spake she, while her strength
“O'ermastering drew me helpless to the shade,
“Ill-comforted but soon subdued. In woe
“I knelt beside her, speechless; till at length
“To change seemed better, since despair could grow
“No worse by changing, and the proud obeyed
“Are sometimes merciful. ‘Thou shalt be great!
“‘Thou shalt put out the eyes which watch thee now,
“‘The desert shall not hide them from thee—wait!
“‘It is not long to tarry.’ Thus she cried,
“And from her scrip a little cruize unbound,
“Water and fruit she gave me; bread I ate,
“Strong wine I tasted trembling at her side:
“The beast alone lay near us on the ground—
“She made me sit above its loins, and sat
“Herself before me, ere it rose. In vain
“My mother calls and follows now—too late,
“Though well perchance for both, her fears subside:
“Upborn, with strength refreshed, and easier gait,
“In haste begins my westward course again.

“Short seemed the space 'twixt sunset and the night:
“The moon behind us in its fulness shone:
“Of purest sand reposed that herbless plain
“Under the purple firmament. Our sight
“Reached far, yet saw no bounds—but rock or stone
“Half-buried in the drifting soil, and spread
“With dreary intervals, appeared alone
“On earth—heaven's ever-wandering isles above.
“Nor sounds were there—the dromedary's tread
“Passed noiseless marked in dust. But she who drove,
“Watched not the yellow waste, or ether blue,
“Nor paused, nor hesitated; she went on
“Silent and swift, till more and mightier grew
“The shivered cliffs around us, one by one,
“High 'bove the horizon, in a thousand forms
“On either hand distinct—such shapes as fear
“Might worship for relenting Gods, whose storms
“Forebore awhile to vex the wilderness:
“At first remote, but every hour more near,
“With denser ranks, to right and left, they press;
“Narrowing the dismal vale through which we ride:
“Thence cries the uneasy stork and wandering owl,
“The leopard crosses to their shadier side;
“Or wolf turns back with half-suspended growl;
“Above our heads deep croaks the ill-resting raven;
“Behind, as if too late, the hyena raves.
“And signs we see that men had once lived there,
“Though shown in works of death—continuous graves—
“Subverted urns—huge stones and deeply graven:
“The sculptured dragon guards its sepulchre:
“A sphynx, broad-faced, looks calmly toward the moon.
“Like regal monuments they seem, and some
“Imperishable still, in night's clear noon
“With trophied arms and granite warriors frown,
“Bordering the road we travel; till we come
“Straight to some mighty city, whose high towers
“Are broken, and the embattled wall cast down:
“Her gates stand wide—no living shapes appear—
“None waits to watch or question: brightly showers
“That glorious radiance o'er deserted streets,
“To all but us unprofitably clear.

“Through grassy court and ponderous portico
“We ride—unchecked the dromedary beats
“His hoof with quick and regulated sound.
“At length I spake in tones subdued and low,
“As fearful who should hear me: ‘Tell me this—
“‘Since ignorance such as mine such grace has found,
“‘Thou yet wilt spare me if I ask amiss—
“‘What endless city spreads where'er we go?’
“She stopped, descended, helped me to the ground,
“And answered, not indeed as one who feared,
“Like me, to rouse the slumberers from repose;
“But so that Echo, loud at first and nigh,
“Then far remote, repeating what I heard
“Each time distinct, though lessening toward their close—
“Taught in that mournful name its history—
“Thrice sounded ‘Nineveh.’

“Nor space for more
“She gave, but left the panting beast unbound,
“Then straight led on. I followed close, and found
“All desolate: the wastes we passed before
“Had less of sorrow than man's late resort,
“Thus void, where what his busy hands had wrought,
“His heart had feared or panted for, and all
“His eyes were once intent on; where he came
“To buy, to sell, for business, worship, sport—
“The Mart, the Temple, Palace, Garden, Hall—
“Where all things else remained, and most the same,
“But he their Lord! midst works of human pride,
“No human soul.

“In haste the Enchantress treads
“What late were ornaments: on either side
“Streaked by the golden moonlight where they cross,
“Are other streets extending—courts as wide,
“As spacious Palaces—and o'er our heads
“Distorted shapes of men or beasts emboss
“Yet loftier Temples undecayed. Mine eye
“Glanced from their hideous prodigies afraid,
“With faltering haste the tired foot hurried by:
“She walked, indeed, as Mistress through the place,
“Where nothing else had ever been since Death.
“Huge pillars, rank by rank, with solid base
“And flower-encircled capitals, arrayed—
“I saw, nor such had seen till then. Night's breath
“Scarce stirred—the briar high-rooted hung its thorns
“From some fair cornice light and motionless;
“Or veiled the prostrate altar whose curled horns
“Lay broken, piled midst heaps of sculptured frieze
“And gilded architrave.

“At length we press
“With feet which ill-sustain the aching knees,
“One wide continuous flight of steps, so fair—
“They seem a road for Gods constrained through love
“To pass from Heaven, and men ascend by turns
“Drawn panting thither. Of bright-hued pavement rare
“Resound the moonlit terraces above,
“Quick smitten by our sandal'd feet: their urns
“Are burst or fallen, and ancient fountains dry.
“Beneath us, toward the left, mine eyes descry
“A river, such as this, with banks as wide,
“Tumultuous waters rolling: and on high,
“From end to end, along the adverse side,
“That mighty mansion where Assyrian kings
“Two ill-enduring ages strength consumed,
“Building its towers:—there piled Earth's precious things,
“The riches of mankind, the toil and cost
“Of many generations. These presumed
“Their seat was safe for ever! it had lost
“Its pleasant ornaments—the doors were gone—
“The porch stood vacant—roofs of ponderous stone
“Were pierced, and twisted thorns hung through them; yet
“A look like ruined greatness unsubdued
“Remained, reproachful majesty—the mien
“Of that which mourns, indeed, but keeps its state—
“Glorious though fallen—supreme midst solitude.
“A title still was there—or such had been—
“Disjointed words appeared above the gate:
“The moon shone full, but all I read was this:—
“‘Let Earth with awe rejoice before its Queen!
“‘Grief never may approach Semiramis.’

“Both entered, and the Sorceress at my side,
“With slackened pace through painted galleries,
“Holding one hand in hers—a silent guide,
“Passed cautiously yet unperplexed. Nor there
“Darkness so far prevailed but that mine eyes
“Might trace the remnant of Assyria's pride
“On floors of jasper-tinted marbles still,
“—Strewn from the flowery roof and cornice rare
“While moonbeams lay upon them. By her skill
“We trod that mournful labyrinth of halls,
“And chambers built for mirth. The last was dark:
“There paused she, whispering—‘tarry on the sill,’
“So passed within. Some voice beyond her calls,
“Not hers—nor answers she: against the door
“I lean, and listen to her steps—a spark
“Drops from her hands, and kindles on the floor:
“Thence lamps she lights along those Temple-walls,
“But most above its altar. Piles of wood
“Lay ready for the sacrifice—behind,
“An idol winged with axe uplifted stood,
“Rach or Adrammalech: my search could find
“Nor Priest, nor living victim there—unless
“Such, she and I; but vessels, one of blood,
“One salt, one oil, I saw. That startling guess
“—Myself might be the sacrifice—appeared
“Less dreadful then: tired Nature asked repose—
“The spirit grows patient which so long has feared,
“And slacks its flight from death through weariness.

“She knelt above the altar steps—she rose,
“Descended, sprinkled blood upon the ground,
“And uttered prayers inaudible to me:
“Then, beckoning, made me enter; at her side
“I stood, while thus she spake. ‘The lost is found—
“‘A Princess from the desert fountain—see!
“‘A captive maid—shall this become the bride?’
“So called and questioned she, but none replied.
“‘Shall other blood be spilt?’—Then paused once more—
“The Temple soon grew silent when her voice
“Had compassed it and passed away. In wrath
“Those altar steps she mounted—from the floor
“Took fire, and lit the wood—‘Thou hadst thy choice!
“‘The aged and mighty yet a mightier hath—
“‘Chaldæa bears thy curse—is this the maid?
“‘Can wisdom turn it back?’ The idol's hand
“Let fall his axe—forth from the altar came,
“Midst sounds like sighs, a voice which cried—‘she is’—
“‘How long?’ the Sorceress questioned—‘While the land
“‘Shall see its crown upon her brows,’ 'twas said,
“‘Force, famine, fraud, avail not—flood or flame,
“‘Nor Gods, nor men, nor living things, nor dead,
“‘Can touch its peace to harm it.’‘Tell me this—
“‘By whom anointed?’—‘Thou!’—‘Wherewith?’—‘Behold!’—
“The Sorceress smiled, and from those urns of gold
“Sprinkling both oil and salt upon my head,
“Cried, ‘Hail Chaldæa's Queen! Hail Nitocris!’
“Then on the altar cast them, fiercely rolled
“The augmented flames—a noise like hosts which fled
“Shook wall and roof—mine eyes were fixed on her—
“‘Follow thou me,’—she cried—‘swift, swift, away!
“‘Morn glows in Heaven—be ever blessed the day!
“‘Assyria's gods are gone! they flee from Nineveh.’”