His charger's mettle's at the test, For until the setting sun Gilds yonder slope he must not rest; His and his master's will are one. The journey will brook no delay To stop for water on the way, So onward fly at fullest speed The rider and his barb Djerid. Still onward flies the goaded steed; Full half the day is sped and gone. In foam and sweat the bold Djerid Still towards the mountain's base rides on. Now with a crash the mountain's side Is rent in twain. A cavern wide Displays to view a jewelled hall; 'Tis guarded by a Genii tall. Arrived now at the mountain's base, One hour ere the set of sun, The cavern yawns before his face, And soon the charger's course is run. A voice of thunder from the cave, That shakes the mountain, utters, "Slave, Forbear this sacred soil to tread, Thy death be else on thine own head." But Selim draws from out his vest A bough, plucked from some distant shore-- A magic bough, compelling rest On those whom he should wave it o'er. He waves it, and the Genii sleeps; No guardian now the threshold keeps. He enters; views the jewel bright Suspended from the cavern's height, One wrench, 'tis his, that jewel bright; That talisman, that oft of yore Sages have searched for day and night, And burned their midnight oil for. Caressing now his brave Djerid, Still mounted, yet spurs on his steed. Now, as the sun sinks 'neath the main, The cavern closes once again. But now the clouds eclipse the sky, The air grows sultry, and the wind Is lulled, yet on Djerid doth fly; The mountain is left far behind. "Zuleika! Oh, my love, my bride. Who now shall tear thee from my side? If not to-night, to-morrow's morn Shall see this gem thy brow adorn." The lowering sky grew black as night, And vivid flashes rent the air, No human dwelling lay in sight-- For miles and miles the plain seemed bare. An awful stillness reigned around, A horse's hoofs made all the sound, And even Selim 'gan to fear Some unknown danger hovering near. And still more sultry grew the air, And peal on peal of thunder rolled, No wild beast ventured from his lair; Yet onward sped that courser bold-- O'er crags, through marshes, bush or briar, He trampling tore with feet of fire, When sudden, without shriek or yell, The horse was struck, the rider fell. CANTO THE FIFTH. A lightning flash hath cleft a rock, And formed a chasm in the stone. Within the cleft, with mighty shock, Selim from off his steed is thrown. His limbs are jambed between its walls; In vain for aid he loudly calls. No earthly power now can save The victim from his living grave.