FullReads

“Nay then,” cried I–(heav’n shrive the lie!) “to tell the secret truth,
‘Twas my unhappy fortune once to over-ride a youth!
A playful child,–so full of life!–a little fair-haired boy,
His sister’s pet, his father’s hope, his mother’s darling joy!
Ah me! the frantic shriek she gave! I hear it ringing now!
That hour, upon the bloody spot, I made a holy vow;
A solemn compact, deeply sworn, to witness my remorse,
That never more these limbs of mine should mount on living horse!”
Good Heav’n! to see the angry glance that flashed upon me now!
A chill ran all my marrow through–the drops were on my brow!
I knew my doom, and stole a glance at that accursed Mare,
And there she stood, with nostrils wide, that snuff’d the sultry air.
How lion-like she lash’d her flanks with her abundant tail;
While on her neck the stormy mane kept tossing to the gale!
How fearfully she roll’d her eyes between the earth and sky,
As if in wild uncertainty to gallop or to fly!
While with her hoof she scoop’d the sand as if before she gave
My plunge into eternity she meant to dig my grave!

And I, that ne’er could calmly hear a horse’s ears at play–
Or hear without a yard of jump his shrill and sudden neigh–
Whose foot within a stable-door had never stood an inch–
Whose hand to pat a living steed would feel an awful flinch,–
I that had never thrown a leg across a pony small,
To scour the pathless desert on the tallest of the tall!
For oh! it is no fable, but at ev’ry look I cast,
Her restless legs seem’d twice as long as when I saw them last!
In agony I shook,–and yet, although congealed by fears,
My blood was boiling fast, to judge from noises in my ears;
I gasp’d as if in vacuo, and thrilling with despair,
Some secret Demon seem’d to pass his fingers through my hair.

I could not stir–I could not speak–I could not even see–
A sudden mist rose up between that awful Mare and me,
I tried to pray, but found no words–tho’ ready ripe to weep,
No tear would flow,–o’er ev’ry sense a swoon began to creep,–
When lo! to bring my horrid fate at once unto the brunt,
Two Arabs seized me from behind, two others in the front,
And ere a muscle could be strung to try the strife forlorn,
I found myself, Mazeppa-like, upon the Desert-Born!

Terrific was the neigh she gave, the moment that my weight
Was felt upon my back, as if exulting in her freight;
Whilst dolefully I heard a voice that set each nerve ajar,–
“Off with the bridle–quick!–and leave his guidance to his star!”

“Allah! il Allah!” rose the shout,–and starting with a bound,
The dreadful Creature cleared at once a dozen yards of ground;
And grasping at her mane with both my cold convulsive hands,
Away we flew–away! away! across the shifting sands!
My eyes were closed in utter dread of such a fearful race,
But yet by certain signs I knew we went no earthly pace,
For turn whichever way we might, the wind with equal force
Rush’d like a horrid hurricane still adverse to our course–
One moment close at hand I heard the roaring Syrian Sea,
The next is only murmur’d like the humming of a bee!
And when I dared at last to glance across the wild immense,
Oh ne’er shall I forget the whirl that met the dizzy sense!

What seem’d a little sprig of fern, ere lips could reckon twain,
A palm of forty cubits high, we passed it on the plain!
What tongue could tell,–what pencil paint,–what pen describe the ride?
Now off–now on–now up–now down,–and flung from side to side!
I tried to speak, but had no voice, to soothe her with its tone–
My scanty breath was jolted out with many a sudden groan–
My joints were racked–my back was strained, so firmly I had clung–
My nostrils gush’d, and thrice my teeth had bitten through my tongue–
When lo!–farewell all hope of life!–she turn’d and faced the rocks,
None but a flying horse could clear those monstrous granite blocks!
So thought I,–but I little knew the desert pride and fire,
Deriv’d from a most deer-like dam, and lion-hearted sire;
Little I guess’d the energy of muscle, blood, and bone,
Bound after bound, with eager springs, she clear’d each massive stone;–
Nine mortal leaps were pass’d before a huge gray rock at length
Stood planted there as if to dare her utmost pitch of strength–
My time was come! that granite heap my monument of death!
She paused, she snorted loud and long, and drew a fuller breath;
Nine strides and then a louder beat that warn’d me of her spring,
I felt her rising in the air like eagle on the wing–
But oh! the crash!–the hideous shock!–the million sparks around!
Her hindmost hoofs had struck the crest of that prodigious mound!

Wild shriek’d the headlong Desert-Born–or else ’twas demon’s mirth,
One second more, and Man and Mare roll’d breathless on the earth!

* * * * *

How long it was I cannot tell ere I revived to sense,
And then but to endure the pangs of agony intense;
For over me lay powerless, and still as any stone,
The Corse that erst had so much fire, strength, spirit, of its own.
My heart was still–my pulses stopp’d–midway ‘twixt life and death,
With pain unspeakable I fetch’d the fragment of a breath,
Not vital air enough to frame one short and feeble sigh,
Yet even that I loath’d because it would not let me die.
Oh! slowly, slowly, slowly on, from starry night till morn,
Time flapp’d along, with leaden wings, across that waste forlorn!
I cursed the hour that brought me first within this world of strife–
A sore and heavy sin it is to scorn the gift of life–
But who hath felt a horse’s weight oppress his laboring breast?
Why, any who has had, like me, the NIGHT MARE on his chest.