I. 8
The dark blue sky clos’d round,
And rested like a dome
Upon the circling waste.
She cast her eyes around,
Famine and Thirst were there..
The Mother bowed her head,
And wept upon her child.
And rested like a dome
Upon the circling waste.
She cast her eyes around,
Famine and Thirst were there..
The Mother bowed her head,
And wept upon her child.
A sudden cry of wonder
From Thalaba arous’d her;
She rais’d her head, and saw
Where high in air a stately palace rose.
Amid a grove embower’d
Stood the prodigious pile;
Trees of such ancient majesty
Tower’d not on Yemen’s happy hills,
Nor crown’d the stately brow of Lebanon.
Fabric so vast, so lavishly enrich’d,
For Idol, or for Tyrant, never yet
Rais’d the slave race of man,
In Rome, nor in the elder Babylon,
Nor old Persepolis,
From Thalaba arous’d her;
She rais’d her head, and saw
Where high in air a stately palace rose.
Amid a grove embower’d
Stood the prodigious pile;
Trees of such ancient majesty
Tower’d not on Yemen’s happy hills,
Nor crown’d the stately brow of Lebanon.
Fabric so vast, so lavishly enrich’d,
For Idol, or for Tyrant, never yet
Rais’d the slave race of man,
In Rome, nor in the elder Babylon,
Nor old Persepolis,
