V.

The morn to noon is melting On Ghazna's golden domes; From the Divan the suppliant crowd, The poor, the potent, and the proud, Who sought its grace with faces bow'd, Have parted for their homes. Already Sultan Mahmood Has risen from his throne, When at the Hall's far portal Stands a Stranger all alone,-- A man in humble vesture, But with a haughty eye; And he calls aloud, with the steadfast voice Of one prepared to die-- "Sultan! the Wrong'd and Trampled Lacks time to worship thee, Stand forth, and answer to my charge, Son of Sebactagi! Stand forth!"---- The brief amazement Which shook that hall has fled-- Next moment fifty falchions Flash round the madman's head, And fifty slaves are waiting Their sovereign's glance to slay; But dread Mahmood, with hand upraised, Has waved their swords away. Once more stands free the Stranger, Once more resounds his call-- "Ho! forth, Mahmood! and hear me, Then slay me in thy hall. From Oxus to the Ocean Thy standards are unfurl'd Thy treasury-bolts are bursting With the plunder of the world-- The maids of soft Hindostan, The vines by Yemen's Sea, But bloom to nurse the passions Of thy savage soldiery. Yet not for them sufficeth The Captive or the Vine, If in thy peaceful subjects' homes They cannot play the swine. Since on my native Ghazna Thy smile of favour fell, How its blood, and toil, and treasure Have been thine, thou knowest well! Its Fiercest swell thine armies, Its Fairest serve thy throne, But in return hast thou not sworn Our _hearths_ should be our own? That each man's private dwelling, And each man's spouse and child, Should from thy mightiest Satrap Be safe and undefiled? Just Allah!--hear how Mahmood His kingly oath maintains!-- Amid the suburbs far away I deemed secure my dwelling lay, Yet now two nights my lone Serai A villain's step profanes. My bride is cursed with beauty, He comes at midnight hour, A giant form for rapine made, In harness of thy guards array'd, And, with main dint of blow and blade, He drives me from her bow'r, And bars and holds my dwelling Until the dawning gray-- Then, ere the light his face can smite, The felon slinks away. Such is the household safety We owe to thine and thee:-- Thou'st heard me first, do now thy worst, Son of Sebactagi!"