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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391626" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Mourner For The Barmecides</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391626" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Fall'n was the House of Giafar; and its name,<br>The high romantic name of Barmecide,<br>A sound forbidden on its own bright shores,<br>By the swift Tygris' wave. Stern Haroun's wrath,<br>Sweeping the mighty with their fame away,<br>Had so pass'd sentence: but man's chainless heart<br>Hides that within its depths which never yet<br>Th' oppressor's thought could reach.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391626" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'Twas desolate<br>Where Giafar's halls, beneath the burning sun,<br>Spread out in ruin lay. The songs had ceas'd;<br>The lights, the perfumes, and the genii-tales<br>Had ceas'd; the guests were gone. Yet still one voice<br>Was there–the fountain's; thro' those eastern courts,<br>Over the broken marble and the grass,<br>Its low clear music shedding mournfully. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391626" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And still another voice!–an aged man,<br>Yet with a dark and fervent eye beneath<br>His silvery hair, came day by day, and sate<br>On a white column's fragment; and drew forth,<br>From the forsaken walls and dim arcades,<br>A tone that shook them with its answering thrill<br>To his deep accents. Many a glorious tale<br>He told that sad yet stately solitude,<br>Pouring his memory's fulness o'er its gloom,<br>Like waters in the waste; and calling up, </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391626" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">By song or high recital of their deeds,<br>Bright solemn shadows of its vanish'd race<br>To people their own halls: with these alone,<br>In all this rich and breathing world, his thoughts<br>Held still unbroken converse. He had been<br>Rear'd in this lordly dwelling, and was now<br>The ivy of its ruins, unto which<br>His fading life seem'd bound. Day roll'd on day,<br>And from that scene the loneliness was fled;<br>For crowds around the grey-hair'd chronicler<br>Met as men meet, within whose anxious hearts<br>Fear with deep feeling strives; till, as a breeze<br>Wanders thro' forest branches, and is met<br>By one quick sound and shiver of the leaves,<br>The spirit of his passionate lament,<br>As thro' their stricken souls it pass'd, awoke<br>One echoing murmur.–But this might not be<br>Under a despot's rule, and, summon'd thence,<br>The dreamer stood before the Caliph's throne:<br>Sentenced to death he stood, and deeply pale, </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391626" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">And with his white lips rigidly compress'd;<br>Till, in submissive tones, he ask'd to speak<br>Once more, ere thrust from earth's fair sunshine forth.<br>Was it to sue for grace?–His burning heart<br>Sprang, with a sudden lightning, to his eye,<br>And he was changed!–and thus, in rapid words,<br>Th' o'ermastering thoughts, more strong than death, found way. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391626" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'And shall I not rejoice to go, when the noble and the brave,<br>With the glory on their brows, are gone before me to the grave?<br>What is there left to look on now, what brightness in the land?–<br>I hold in scorn the faded world, that wants their princely band! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391626" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'My chiefs! my chiefs! the old man comes that in your halls was nurs'd,<br>That follow'd you to many a fight, where flash'd your sabres first;<br>That bore your children in his arms, your name upon his heart:–<br>Oh! must the music of that name with him from earth depart? </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391626" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'It shall not be!–a thousand tongues, tho' human voice were still,<br>With that high sound the living air triumphantly shall fill;<br>The wind's free flight shall bear it on, as wandering seeds are sown,<br>And the starry midnight whisper it, with a deep and thrilling tone. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391626" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'For it is not as a flower whose scent with the dropping leaves expires,<br>And it is not as a household lamp, that a breath should quench its fires;<br>It is written on our battle-fields with the writing of the sword,<br>It hath left upon our desert-sands a light in blessings pour'd. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391626" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'The founts, the many gushing founts, which to the wild ye gave,<br>Of you, my chiefs, shall sing aloud, as they pour a joyous wave!<br>And the groves, with whose deep lovely gloom ye hung the pilgrim's way,<br>Shall send from all their sighing leaves your praises on the day. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391626" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'The very walls your bounty rear'd for the stranger's homeless head,<br>Shall find a murmur to record your tale, my glorious dead!<br>Tho' the grass be where ye feasted once, where lute and cittern rung,<br>And the serpent in your palaces lie coil'd amidst its young. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391626" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'It is enough! mine eye no more of joy or splendour sees,<br>I leave your name in lofty faith, to the skies and to the breeze!<br>I go, since earth her flower hath lost, to join the bright and fair,<br>And call the grave a kingly house, for ye, my chiefs, are there!' </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=391626" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">But while the old man sang, a mist of tears<br>O'er Haroun's eyes had gathered, and a thought–<br>Oh! many a sudden and remorseful thought–<br>Of his youth's once-lov'd friends, the martyr'd race,<br>O'erflow'd his softening heart.–'Live! live!' he cried,<br>'Thou faithful unto death! live on, and still<br>Speak of thy lords; they were a princely band!'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Felicia+Dorothea+Hemans">Felicia Dorothea Hemans</a></strong></div>