"No--tho' of all earth's hope bereft,
"Life, swords, and vengeance still are left.
"We'll make yon valley's reeking caves
"Live in the awe-struck minds of men
"Till tyrants shudder, when their slaves
"Tell of the Gheber's bloody glen,
"Follow, brave hearts!--this pile remains
"Our refuge still from life and chains;
"But his the best, the holiest bed,
"Who sinks entombed in Moslem dead!"
Down the precipitous rocks they sprung,
While vigor more than human strung
Each arm and heart.--The exulting foe
Still thro' the dark defiles below,
Trackt by his torches' lurid fire,
Wound slow, as thro' GOLCONDA'S vale
The mighty serpent in his ire
Glides on with glittering, deadly trail.
No torch the Ghebers need--so well
They know each mystery of the dell,
So oft have in their wanderings
Crost the wild race that round them dwell,
The very tigers from their delves
Look out and let them pass as things
Untamed and fearless like themselves!
There was a deep ravine that lay
Yet darkling in the Moslem's way;
Fit spot to make invaders rue
The many fallen before the few.
The torrents from that morning's sky
Had filled the narrow chasm breast-high,
And on each side aloft and wild
Huge cliffs and toppling crags were piled,--
The guards with which young Freedom lines
The pathways to her mountain-shrines,
Here at this pass the scanty band;
Of IRAN'S last avengers stand;
Here wait in silence like the dead
And listen for the Moslem's tread
So anxiously the carrion-bird
Above them flaps his wing unheard!
They come--that plunge into the water
Gives signal for the work of slaughter.
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