The Sirth Book. Then did I see a pleasant Paradise, Full of sweet flowers and daintiest delights, Such as on earth man could not more devise With pleasures choice to feed his cheerful sprights; Made for the gentle squire to entertain His fair Belphabe, could this garden stain. SPENSER. VOL. II. A RUINS OF TIME. THALABA THE DESTROYER. THE SIXTH BOOK. 1. So from the inmost cavern, Thalaba The spell of sleep had ceased, And his broad eyes were glaring on the youth: Yet raised he not his arm to bar the way, Fearful to rouse the snakes Now lingering o'er their meal. 2. Oh then, emerging from the dreadful cave, How grateful did the gale of night Salute his freshen'd sense! How full of lightsome joy, Thankful to Heaven, he hastens by the verge Of that bitumen lake, Whose black and heavy fumes, Surge heaving after surge, Roll'd like the billowy and tumultuous sea. 3. The song of many a bird at morn Lo! by his side a courser stood! Of form more faultless never had he seen, More light of limbs and beautiful in strength, Among the race whose blood, Pure and unmingled, from the royal steeds Of Solomon came down. Glanced o'er his graceful shape, His rich caparisons, His crimson trappings gay. But when he saw the mouth Uncurb'd, the unbridled neck, Then flush'd his cheek, and leapt his heart; For sure he deem'd that Heaven had sent The courser, whom no erring hand should guide. And lo! the eager Steed Throws his head, and paws the ground, Then up leapt Thalaba, And away went the self-govern'd steed. 5. Far over the plain Away went the bridleless steed; With the dew of the morning his fetlocks were wet, The foam froth'd his limbs in the journey of noon, Nor stay'd he till over the westerly heaven The shadows of evening had spread. Then on a sheltered bank The appointed Youth repos'd, And by him laid the docile courser down. |