"
Time fleeted--years on years had past away,
And few of those who on that mournful day
Had stood with pity in their eyes to see
The maiden's death and the youth's agony,
Were living still--when, by a rustic grave,
Beside the swift Amoo's transparent wave,
An aged man who had grown aged there
By that lone grave, morning and night in prayer,
For the last time knelt down--and tho' the shade
Of death hung darkening over him there played
A gleam of rapture on his eye and cheek,
That brightened even Death--like the last streak
Of intense glory on the horizon's brim,
When night o'er all the rest hangs chill and dim.
His soul had seen a Vision while he slept;
She for whose spirit he had prayed and wept
So many years had come to him all drest
In angel smiles and told him she was blest!
For this the old man breathed his thanks and died.--
And there upon the banks of that loved tide,
He and his ZELICA sleep side by side.
The story of the Veiled Prophet of Khorassan being ended, they were now
doomed to hear FADLADEEN'S criticisms upon it. A series of disappointments
and accidents had occurred to this learned Chamberlain during the journey.
In the first place, those couriers stationed, as in the reign of Shah
Jehan, between Delhi and the Western coast of India, to secure a constant
supply of mangoes for the Royal Table, had by some cruel irregularity
failed in their duty; and to eat any mangoes but those of Mazagong was of
course impossible.
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