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第454章 THE MARRIAGE OF TIRZAH AND AHIRAD(1)

(1827.)

GENESIS VI.3.

It is the dead of night:

Yet more than noonday light Beams far and wide from many a gorgeous hall.

Unnumbered harps are tinkling, Unnumbered lamps are twinkling, In the great city of the fourfold wall.

By the brazen castle's moat, The sentry hums a livelier note.

The ship-boy chaunts a shriller lay From the galleys in the bay.

Shout, and laugh, and hurrying feet Sound from mart and square and street, From the breezy laurel shades, From the granite colonnades, From the golden statue's base, From the stately market-place, Where, upreared by captive hands, The great Tower of Triumph stands, All its pillars in a blaze With the many-coloured rays, Which lanthorns of ten thousand dyes Shed on ten thousand panoplies.

But closest is the throng, And loudest is the song, In that sweet garden by the river side, The abyss of myrtle bowers, The wilderness of flowers, Where Cain hath built the palace of his pride.

Such palace ne'er shall be again Among the dwindling race of men.

From all its threescore gates the light Of gold and steel afar was thrown;Two hundred cubits rose in height The outer wall of polished stone.

On the top was ample space For a gallant chariot race, Near either parapet a bed Of the richest mould was spread, Where amidst flowers of every scent and hue Rich orange trees, and palms, and giant cedars grew.

In the mansion's public court All is revel, song, and sport;For there, till morn shall tint the east, Menials and guards prolong the feast.

The boards with painted vessels shine;

The marble cisterns foam with wine.

A hundred dancing girls are there With zoneless waists and streaming hair;And countless eyes with ardour gaze, And countless hands the measure beat, As mix and part in amorous maze Those floating arms and bounding feet.

But none of all the race of Cain, Save those whom he hath deigned to grace With yellow robe and sapphire chain, May pass beyond that outer space.

For now within the painted hall The Firstborn keeps high festival.

Before the glittering valves all night Their post the chosen captains hold.

Above the portal's stately height The legend flames in lamps of gold:

"In life united and in death "May Tirzah and Ahirad be, "The bravest he of all the sons of Seth, "Of all the house of Cain the loveliest she."Through all the climates of the earth This night is given to festal mirth.

The long continued war is ended.

The long divided lines are blended.

Ahirad's bow shall now no more Make fat the wolves with kindred gore.

The vultures shall expect in vain Their banquet from the sword of Cain.

Without a guard the herds and flocks Along the frontier moors and rocks From eve to morn may roam:

Nor shriek, nor shout, nor reddened sky, Shall warn the startled hind to fly From his beloved home.

Nor to the pier shall burghers crowd With straining necks and faces pale, And think that in each flitting cloud They see a hostile sail.

The peasant without fear shall guide Down smooth canal or river wide His painted bark of cane, Fraught, for some proud bazaar's arcades, With chestnuts from his native shades, And wine, and milk, and grain.

Search round the peopled globe to-night, Explore each continent and isle, There is no door without a light, No face without a smile.

The noblest chiefs of either race, From north and south, from west and east, Crowd to the painted hall to grace The pomp of that atoning feast.

With widening eyes and labouring breath Stand the fair-haired sons of Seth, As bursts upon their dazzled sight The endless avenue of light, The bowers of tulip, rose, and palm, The thousand cressets fed with balm, The silken vests, the boards piled high With amber, gold, and ivory, The crystal founts whence sparkling flow The richest wines o'er beds of snow, The walls where blaze in living dyes The king's three hundred victories.

The heralds point the fitting seat To every guest in order meet, And place the highest in degree Nearest th' imperial canopy.

Beneath its broad and gorgeous fold, With naked swords and shields of gold, Stood the seven princes of the tribes of Nod.

Upon an ermine carpet lay Two tiger cubs in furious play, Beneath the emerald throne where sat the signed of God.

Over that ample forehead white The thousandth year returneth.

Still, on its commanding height, With a fierce and blood-red light, The fiery token burneth.

Wheresoe'er that mystic star Blazeth in the van of war, Back recoil before its ray Shield and banner, bow and spear, Maddened horses break away From the trembling charioteer.

The fear of that stern king doth lie On all that live beneath the sky:

All shrink before the mark of his despair, The seal of that great curse which he alone can bear.

Blazing in pearls and diamonds' sheen.

Tirzah, the young Ahirad's bride, Of humankind the destined queen, Sits by her great forefather's side.

The jetty curls, the forehead high, The swan like neck, the eagle face, The glowing cheek, the rich dark eye, Proclaim her of the elder race.

With flowing locks of auburn hue, And features smooth, and eye of blue, Timid in love as brave in arms, The gentle heir of Seth askance Snatches a bashful, ardent glance At her majestic charms;Blest when across that brow high musing flashes A deeper tint of rose, Thrice blest when from beneath the silken lashes Of her proud eye she throws The smile of blended fondness and disdain Which marks the daughters of the house of Cain.

All hearts are light around the hall Save his who is the lord of all.

The painted roofs, the attendant train, The lights, the banquet, all are vain.

He sees them not.His fancy strays To other scenes and other days.

A cot by a lone forest's edge, A fountain murmuring through the trees, A garden with a wildflower hedge, Whence sounds the music of the bees, A little flock of sheep at rest Upon a mountain's swarthy breast.

On his rude spade he seems to lean Beside the well remembered stone, Rejoicing o'er the promised green Of the first harvest man hath sown.

He sees his mother's tears;

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