She star'd me in the face.

My heart was touch'd, had it been human else?
I thought no eye was near, and broke her bonds,
And drove her forth to liberty and life.

The Prophet Houd beheld,

He lifted up his voice,

'Blessed art thou, young man,

Blessed art thou, O Aswad, for the deed!.

In the day of visitation,

In the fearful hour of judgment,

God will remember thee !'

"The day of visitation was at hand,
The fearful hour of judgment hastened on.
Lo Shedad's mighty pile complete,
The palace of his pride.

Would ye behold its wonders, enter in !

I have no heart to visit it!

Time hath not harm'd the eternal monument; Time is not here, nor days, nor months, nor years,

An everlasting Now of misery!—

Ye must have heard their fame,

Or likely ye have seen

The mighty Pyramids,

For sure those mighty piles shall overlive

The feeble generations of mankind.

What though unmov'd they bore the deluge weight,
Survivors of the ruined world?

What though their founder fill'd with miracles,
And wealth miraculous their ample vaults?
Compar'd with yonder fabric, and they shrink
The baby wonders of a woman's work!

Here emerald columns o'er the marble courts
Fling their green rays, as when amid a shower
The sun shines loveliest on the vernal corn.
Here Shedad bade the sapphire floor be laid,
As though with feet divine

To trample azure light,

Like the blue pavement of the firmament.
Here self-suspended hangs in air,
As its pure substance loath'd material touch,
The living carbuncle ;

Sun of the lofty dome,

Darkness hath no dominion o'er its beams;
Intense it glows, an ever-flowing tide
Of glory, like the day-flood in its source.
Impious! the Trees of vegetable gold,

Such as in Eden's groves

Yet innocent it grew;

Impious! he made his boast, though heaven had hid

So deep the baneful ore,

That they should branch and bud for him, That art should force their blossoms and their fruit,

And re-create for him whate'er

Was lost in Paradise.

Therefore at Shedad's voice

Here towered the palm, a silver trunk,
The fine gold net-work growing out

Loose from its rugged boughs.

Tall as the Cedar of the mountain, here

Rose the gold branches, hung with emerald leaves,
Blossom'd with pearls, and rich with ruby fruit.
O Ad! my country! evil was the day

That thy unhappy sons

Crouch'd at this Nimrod's throne, And placed him on the pedestal of power, And laid their liberties beneath his feet, Robbing their children of the heritance

Their fathers handed down.

What was to him the squander'd wealth?
What was to him the burden of the land,
The lavish'd misery?

He did but speak his will,

And, like the blasting Siroc of the East,
The ruin of the royal voice

Found its way every where.

I marvel not that he, whose power No earthly law, no human feeling curb'd, Mock'd at the living God!

"And now the King's command went forth
Among the people, bidding old and young,
Husband and wife, the master and the slave,
All the collected multitudes of Ad,

Here to repair, and hold high festival,
That he might see his people, they behold
Their King's magnificence and power.
The day of festival arriv'd;

Hither they came, the old man and the boy,
Husband and wife, the master and the slave,
Hither they came. From yonder high tower top,
The loftiest of the Palace, Shedad look'd

Down on his tribe: their tents on yonder sands
Rose like the countless billows of the sea;
Their tread and voices like the ocean roar,
One deep confusion of tumultuous sounds.
They saw their King's magnificence; beheld
His Palace sparkling like the Angel domes
Of Paradise; his garden like the bowers
Of early Eden, and they shouted out,
Great is the King, a God upon the earth!

"Intoxicate with joy and pride,

He heard their blasphemies;

And in his wantonness of heart he bade
The Prophet Houd be brought;

And o'er the marble courts,

And o'er the gorgeous rooms

Glittering with gems and gold,

He led the Man of God.
Is not this a stately pile?'
Cried the Monarch in his joy.
• Hath ever eye beheld,

Hath ever thought conceiv'd,

Place more magnificent?

Houd, they say that Heaven imparted

To thy lips the words of wisdom!

Look at the riches round,

And value them aright,

If so thy wisdom can.'

The Prophet heard his vaunt,

And he answer'd him, with an aweful smile, ⚫ O Shedad! only in the hour of death We learn to value things like these aright.'

"Hast thou a fault to find

In all thine eyes have seen?'