ABSTRACT
[…] The Sukooa branches thicker grew And now the closing evening threw Upon the wood a deeper shade That every glen more gloomy made; – Sudden the steep and winding way 5 Dipt between rocks of granite grey, And for a while the passage wound Into a darkness under ground: My Arab blindly picked his tread, ’Twas like a Cavern of the Dead! 10 But lo! if Death’s domain is here There is a Paradise full near; – Sudden the beams of welcome light With Evening’s blush attract my sight, Tinging with their delicious hue 15 A wild and wide and splendid view! Rushed at my feet a mountain stream Clear as the Sun’s own brilliant beam Which gilt the foam-encircled rocks Whose blue breasts loved those torrent shocks, 20 Or seemed to love – for on their heads Rose the Asoka’s flowery weeds. It was a rich wild sight – that river Between those forest mountains flowing O’er rocks that made its waters shiver, 25 And with rich colored flowers were glowing. ’Twas not a rivulet nursed between Meadows that slope with carpets green, But suited to that desert scene. It was a bold broad cataract 30 Roaring along the rugged tract – Beyond – and first my soldier eye, 342Did these attracting points descry, Upon the crowns of two steep hills, Whose mediate vale a forest fills, 35 Ramparts and rounded towers uprise And mark their outline on the skies. But has the curse of war fall’n here? The hills are desolate and drear – Are those white masses human bones, 40 Or but the Ruin’s scattered stones? The silence of the wild wood scene Where – though the fortress may have been – The unarmed walls are broken now, And where – though blossom’d bushes grow 45 They are but beauteous weeds whose birth Spontaneous gems this Orient Earth. What though a gardened desert here Springs under Heaven’s favoring breath, The Ruin speaks of wasting war, 50 The silent solitude of Death. But see! the charms of Day are past Whose light illumed the desert flower, And night’s dark mists descending fast Bury the beauties of the hour In gloom around each ruined Tower. 55 Where are those wild adornments now? The gems that made the torrent glow – The bosoms of the blue rocks, bright With foam that sparkled in the light – The Forest crowns of varied hue 60 Whose plumed tiaras pleased the view? In shade, a deep and murky shade The hill, the stream and wood are laid, And night upon this desert world Like a terrific threat is hurled, 65 Striking a stupor on each spot Where only Terror slumbers not! In this dark wilderness alone, My tents yet far – the way unknown – Monsters deep moans from every part – 70 Was this enough to shake my heart? Of man I felt no vain alarm, I did not doubt my own young arm, But here, these midnight wilds among, What could avail my power of tongue? 75 Blindness could trace the way as well As sight within this forest dell; 343Bewildered, still my Arab steed Had flinched not – had he seen to tread – But in that gloom – nor stream – nor stone – 80 Nor pit – nor bush – nor reptile known, – On foot I tried to grope the way, But perilous the vain essay; The rock that struck my stumbling shin, The thick bush-thorn that tore my skin, 85 Like demon’s arrow-points I felt That made at last my courage melt – Proceed I could no more, – to keep The way defied the power of sight – I rested on the bank, but sleep 90 Soothed not the terrors of the night – It was an awful hour! to climb Mont Blanc’s or Jung frau’s peaks sublime – To dare the lonely midnight way In Europe was my youth’s proud play – 95 And ne’er did fear my soul depress Till in this Indian wilderness. Look! Look! The boon of Liberty To captive scarce less dear can be Than was that distant spark to me! 100 How quick I started to my feet! How strained my eyes that light to greet! It is no summer meteor – now It mounts the hill – but faint and slow – Flickering and lost awhile between 105 The thicket shades – again ’tis seen More bright – more near – more welcome – no! ’Tis not the Firefly’s luring glow! ’Tis not a lantern of the dead! For I can hear a faint foot tread – 110 And now it halts! away – away – Nor steep – nor stone my foot can stay! Yet long did I attempt in vain That far well-noted mark to gain, For precipice and rock and brake 115 Conspired more rash my task to make; But youth will every danger dare Hope raises courage as Despair. Clambering and climbing, scarce I know How I attained the steep hill’s brow, 120 But when I trod its crowning plain And saw the welcome light so near I felt my heart expand again 344Casting away its weight of fear. Glared the red ruin of the wall 125 Behind the desolate musal1 That, stuck upon an earthly mound, Threw its refreshing lustre round, And made amidst that sea of night A lively Isle within its light! 130 On one dark form the lustre fell Marking a cloudy brow too well, And gleaming on its turban fold The Stranger’s Hindoo lineage told – Folded the arms and fixed the eye 135 In some abstract soliloquy – The branch has snapt within my grasp – He starts! – the falchion in his clasp Cleaves the thin air one minute bright’ning Darkness with its reflected lightning – 140 As fell the Torch’s lurid glare Upon his face and savage air, Might marked the giant limb, and ire The eye that flung on me its fire. The pause was brief – ‘Feringee! Foe! 145 Stand off! – thy message well I know – But not the Tiger in his den Fears less the force of skulking men, Than I – Bring up the whole array, In me thou’lt take no living prey!’ 150 ‘I am alone – no following band – With such commission is at hand.’ ‘Alone! then smile my bright Tulwar: For on this slave of the Sircar2 Revenge shall make thee red for woes 155 Yet unrequited on thy foes – Stand if thou dar’st.’ ‘I dare to stand – And though no blade is in my hand, From thy malignant blow forbear – 160 Or the swift ball thy heart shall tear – I am a Traveller – lost – alone – Dost thou the stranger’s claim disown Who seeks in peace thy desert lair?’ ‘In peace! – Thy tribe have speech as fair 165 And feeble as their moonlike face – How can I trust thy words of peace?’ 345‘Fling down thine arms as I shall mine’ – Beneath that torch’s lurid shine Glittered the barrel and the blade 170 As my behest that chief obeyed! Our glances met – I felt his eye Dart on my form its scrutiny, And as it rose from heel to brow Seeking each hidden nerve to know 175 A smile of half contempt and scorn, As lightning’s winter clouds adorn, Lit up his darkened features, when He saw me but as other men, Not of his own gigantic mould – 180 His measure of the brave and bold! ‘Stranger – that dar’st the Lion seek In his wild home of brush and brake – Whose madness prompts him to intrude Upon his hour of fiercest mood – 185 Who dares to meet me face to face – What art thou, man of the white race?’ ‘Ask not with scorn – my race is here The Ruler – nor will I forbear Its pride! – Expect no answer now 190 Till thou explainest – who art thou?’ ‘Ha! would’st thou know? – then hear and tremble – Not more the monster I resemble Could raise a tremor o’er thy frame Than the bare sound of my wild name! 195 Hast heard of Shapoor, night of blood? When your Sircar’s oppressive brood Of Peons3 were slaughtered – that exploit Was mine – Choramun’s the Dakoit!’
